MASARYK UNIVERSITY
FACULTY OF SOCIAL STUDIES
LITERATURE READER
SOC607
Social Inclusion: Perspectives,
Practices and Challenges within the
Visegrad Region
2017
Contents
Foreword 4
1 Theoretical Introduction - What is Social Inclusion? 10
1.1 Core Solidarity, Ethnic Outgroup, and Social Differentiation . . . 11
1.2 The Sociology of Social Inclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
1.3 Three Discourses of Social Exclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
1.4 Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital: Czech Evidence on
Mutual Links . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
2 Social Innovation as a Practical Inclusive Tool 107
2.1 Social innovation, a new path . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
3 Inequalities in Education 165
3.1 On the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students in
Hungary and its potential causes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
3.2 Intricacies of Ethnicity: A Comparative Study of Minority Identity
Formation during Adolescence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
3.3 Inclusive Education for Children of Immigrants: The Turkish
Second Generation in Sweden, the Netherlands and Austria . . 237
4 Inclusive Workplace 255
4.1 Leading at a Higher Level . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
4.2 Takedowns . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
4.3 OMG! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281
5 Tackling Prejudice and De-radicalization 300
5.1 Dynamic of Conflict Development in Transforming Societies . . . 301
5.2 Law of Group Polarization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 314
6 Inclusive Public Space 354
6.1 Homelessness, Citizenship and Social Exclusion . . . . . . . . . 355
6.2 Social Exclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 380
7 Inclusion, Direct Contact, and Social Norms 421
7.1 Norm Perception as a Vehicle for Social Change . . . . . . . . . 422
7.2 Condoning Stereotyping? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 454
8 How to Write a Research Proposal 473
8.1 Strategies for Beinning Research . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
8.2 Designing a Research Proposal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 506
Foreword
“People are cast in the underclass because they are seen as totally useless;
as a nuisance pure and simple, something the rest of us could do nicely
without. In a society of consumers - a world that evaluates anyone and
anything by their commodity value - they are people with no market value;
they are the uncommoditised men and women, and their failure to obtain
the status of proper commodity coincides with (indeed, stems from) their
failure to engage in a fully fledged consumer activity.” (Bauman 2007:
124)
In his book, Zygmunt Bauman (2007: 124, emphasis in original) talks about the “useless”
people, about failed consumers, who are by their more privileged countrymen seen as
dangerous and worth vanishing for the sake of the society. He specifically talks about the
underclass - people occupying the lowest possible place in the social hierarchy. The homeless,
the beggars, the uneducated, or the disabled, people labeled as underclass have historically
faced exclusion in many societies. Yet the processes of exclusion can take also more subtle
forms. In the Visegrad countries, we have been recently hearing a lot about the “deserving”
and “undeserving” people. These categories call for a qualitatively different form of
judgement, one which is less connected to the idea of social classes and more to a moral
assessment of an ability of certain individuals or groups to contribute to the society.
Following this perspective, some people first need to prove they deserve governmental
assistance and the solidarity of their fellow citizens - this entitlement not coming to them
automatically as in case of other citizens whose entitlement has never been questioned. Ethnic
or new minorities, refugees, or also people living in the long term poverty, some of them have
to work to receive the basic benefit in material need, prove they are entitled to get a housing
or a wheelchair, or convince the decision-makers that their lives had been endangered in their
home countries and they deserve a protection. In relation to the core of the society, which is in
Visegrad countries mostly defined in terms of a shared ethnicity of Slovaks, Czechs, Poles,
and Hungarians, they are perceived as out-groups (Alexander 1988). If they are, moreover,
categorized as “useless” or “undeserving”, these people might easily find themselves at the
margins of the society and become excluded from the everyday life.
Social exclusion is usually defined as a deprivation of full participation in activities
such as consumption, saving, production, or political and social activities (Mareš and
Sirovátka 2008). It is a process in which individuals or groups become detached from other
people and social relations - this having a negative impact on their everyday activities, life
opportunities, and physical and mental health. The detachment from the social mainstream
occurs within various interdependent dimensions – economic, social, political and cultural
(Ibid.). The inaccessibility of a paid job leads to unemployment and has negative impacts on
material standards of a household. If unemployment becomes a lasting condition, it not only
leads to poverty, but also to narrowing of social networks. Decline in one’s social status,
stigma, and isolation usually come along. Excluded groups often do not have access to
education, work, power, political participation and thus they are easily deprived of their basic
political and social rights. Furthermore, structural and symbolic aspects of social exclusion
are mutually reinforcing. While poverty and structural inequalities in the society are frequent
triggers of social exclusion, the symbolic facets, such as prejudice or stigma, come hand in
hand and further reinforce the exclusion. This often leads to a vicious circle - people willing
to get out of the trap of social exclusion are further discriminated against based on the
characteristics such as ethnicity, race, nationality, gender, sex, age, physical or mental
dis(ability), but also a locality they live in or their family background.
To recall Bauman once again, “[i]f political rights are necessary to set social rights in
place, social rights are indispensable to make political rights 'real' and keep them in
operation. The two rights need each other for their survival; that survival can only be their
joint achievement” (2011: 14, emphases in original). Unless all people are granted social
rights, political rights become pointless and useless. On the other hand, when there is no
access to political rights, social rights are more likely to be ignored or non-existent. Social
inclusion thus represents a bridge between the exclusion and human rights. Even though the
concept of social inclusion is quite new, flexible and therefore there is no clear definition or
an agreement on its meaning (Levitas 2005), it is important to discuss it. The term social
inclusion has become an integral part of strategic documents, policies, or funding schemes.
Therefore, it is crucial to discuss its meanings, tools, consequences, target groups, and
remedies that might lead to a greater inclusion of marginalized groups. For a start, social
inclusion might represent a multi-layered process based on a mutual acceptance and full-scale
participation of all people. Among others, it entails an active involvement and access of all
people to education, work, health care, social security, but also to information and cultural
activities. A social inclusion thus represents a full access to political, economic and social
rights.
After forty-years-long presence of the Communist regime - one party government,
closed borders, planned economy, and strong nepotism - countries of the Visegrad region face
various challenges in terms of social inclusion. The brisk political and economic
transformation have left enough space for establishment of various forms of inequalities
among people in the Visegrad countries. Different groups live lives of different qualities.
There are various symbolic, but also spatial and legal boundaries dividing different groups of
citizens (Lamont and Fournier 1992). As we have already mentioned, the boundaries between
the excluded and the included easily emerge around the categories such as ethnicity, religion,
age, gender, sex, or a health condition. Whom do we consider to be a part of the society?
Who, on the other hand, remains on its outskirts? Why? What entitles us to draw these
boundaries? Who has the power to do so? Why do we draw them? What does it require? What
are the consequences? And how this could be changed? These are only few of the crucial
questions this reader poses. The goal of this Reader is to make the readers familiar with some
of the important texts dealing with the dynamics of social inclusion and exclusion. It
introduces its important dimensions, the key concepts, and theoretical and practical
approaches that help to alleviate social exclusion and promote more inclusive environments.
Rather than offering definite answers, this Reader aims to stimulate the interest in the issues
of social inclusion and exclusion, trigger a productive discussion, and offer conceptual and
theoretical support to analyze this dynamics in the real life.
The Reader is a compilation of various texts - articles, book chapters, manuals, and
policy papers we find interesting and relevant in order to achieve the above-mentioned aims.
It starts with the theoretical overview of the topics of discrimination, equality, solidarity, and
the role of political discourses. The perspective of the introductory chapter is
multidisciplinary, even though the sociological viewpoint dominates. The readers will find
texts discussing a boundary construction and how and why the formation of in-groups and
out-groups occurs; a paper dealing with the legal aspects of social inclusion; and texts
introducing the key concepts, definitions, and discourses within which exclusive/inclusive
policies are being formulated. As Daniel Béland (2007) reminds us, social exclusion (and
inclusion) represents a specific form of understanding that takes part in the construction of
both - social problems and policy responses to them. How these concepts are comprehended
and defined affects the design of future policies aimed at dealing with social problems.
Framing the exclusion/inclusion within a particular discourse means employing specific tools
in order to justify certain political decisions and thus have a direct impact on the life of people
facing social exclusion.
The following chapters cover key areas in which social inclusion is a relevant and
discussed issue. The texts were chosen together with the lecturers from Slovakia, Czech
Republic, Poland and Hungary, who are experienced professionals in the areas of public
policies, inclusive education, conflict resolution, social innovations, and more. The thematic
section of the Reader consists of chapters tackling Inequalities in education, with texts
discussing vulnerabilities of different groups in the educational process, an impact of unequal
access to education on children and communities, and they document why inclusive education
is an important aim. You can find also literature on Inclusive workplace, focusing on
employment as a crucial element of all dimensions of social inclusion, not only of its
economic aspects. Being deprived of work has far reaching consequences for people’s lives.
Even when working, a workplace is a place where stereotypes and prejudices might appear on
the daily basis. On the other hand, it is also a micro world where these can be addressed and
where an inclusive and supportive environment can be formed. Public spaces are often frontline
areas where we can observe an exclusion of people. Spatial segregation of certain
localities, constructions preventing people to sleep on the benches or in sheltered areas,
missing elevators or barrier-free ramps in the buildings, these are only few examples of how
public spaces are not available to everyone. Therefore, we decided to include to this Reader a
chapter on Dynamics of social inclusion/exclusion in public space as well as a chapter on
Social innovations as a practical inclusive tool, with a text suggesting some ways of
addressing social exclusion from the practical point of view. It introduces social innovations
and gives some ideas on how to work creatively while keeping inclusion at the top of the
interest. Recently, far right wing politicians and groups gain support all over Europe. We find
it important to include into the Reader literature on Social norms, direct contact as well as on
Prejudice and de-radicalisation.
We dedicated the final section of the Reader to research, particularly to guidelines and
hints on preparation of a good research proposal. Numerous people in the Visegrad countries
are affected by the dynamics of social inclusion and exclusion every day and there are several
aspects of these processes that deserve academic attention. Research in this field can help us
to make the complex phenomena more tangible. As academicians and researchers, we can add
a piece to the understanding of reasons and impacts of social exclusion and inclusion in the
society and help the practitioners to address the issues more precisely.
The set of the texts in this Reader offers a complex outlook on the dynamics of social
exclusion and inclusion, however, respective chapters can be also read separately. The Reader
further documents that understanding of this dynamic may require a multidisciplinary
approach which builds on an expertise from different fields. We would thus like to encourage
the students and other readers to open their minds and become creative in thinking about
different ways the inclusive environment can be created not only in the areas depicted by the
Reader, but also in their immediate environment.
Lenka Kissová and Ivana Rapošová
References
Alexander, Jeffrey C. 1988. "Core Solidarity, Ethnic Outgroup and Social Differentiation."
Pp. 78 - 106 in Action and its Environments: Toward a New Synthesis. New York: Columbia
UP.
Bauman, Zygmunt. 2007. Consuming Life. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Bauman, Zygmunt. 2011. Collateral Damage: Social Inequalities in a Global Age.
Cambridge: Polity Press.
Béland, Daniel. 2007. “The social exclusion discourse: ideas and policy change.” Policy &
Politics 35 (1): 123-39.
Lamont, Michèle, and Marcel Fournier. 1992. Cultivating Differences: Symbolic Boundaries
and the Making of Inequality. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Levitas, Ruth. 2005. The Inclusive Society? Social exclusion and New Labour. New York:
Pelgrave Macmillan.
Mareš, Peter and Tomáš Sirovátka. 2008. “Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital:
Czech Evidence on Mutual Links.” Sociologický časopis/ Czech Sociological Review 44 (3):
531–555.
1 Theoretical Introduction - What is Social Inclu-
sion?
Bibliography
Alexander, Jeffrey C. 1988. “Core Solidarity, Ethnic Outgroup and Social Differentiation.”
Pp. 78–106 in Action and Its Environments: Toward a New Synthesis.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Allman, Dan. 2013. “The Sociology of Social Inclusion.” SAGE Open 1: 1–16. DOI:
10.1177/2158244012471957.
Levitas, Ruth. 2005. “Three Discrourses of Social Exclusion.” Pp. 7–28 in The Inclusive
Society? Social Exclusion and New Labour. 2nd ed. Basingstoke: Potential
Macmillan.
Mareš, Petr and Tomáš Sirovátka. 2008. “Social Exclusion and Forms of Social
Capital: Czech Evidence on Mutual Links.” Sociologický ˇcasopis/Czech Sociological
Review 44(3): 531–555.
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1.1 Core Solidarity, Ethnic Outgroup, and Social Differentia-
tion
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1.2 The Sociology of Social Inclusion
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SAGE Open
January-March 2013: 1­–16
© The Author(s) 2012
DOI: 10.1177/2158244012471957
http://sgo.sagepub.com
We live in the state and in society; we belong to a
social circle which jostles against its members and is
jostled by them; we feel the social pressure from all
sides and we react against it with all our might; we
experience a restraint to our free activities and we
struggle to remove it; we require the services of other
[people] which we cannot do without; we pursue our
own interests and struggle for the interests of other
social groups, which are also our interests. In short, we
move in a world which we do not control, but which
controls us, which is not directed toward us and
adapted to us, but toward which we must direct and
adapt ourselves.
Gumplowicz, 1963, p. 6
This article considers the concept of social inclusion from
the perspective of sociology. In doing so, it aims to complement
the work of historians, economists, psychologists, and
natural scientists to better understand the origins of the social
inclusion concept. It argues that action and efforts to include or
exclude individuals and social groups are fundamental to society
as forces that govern through the oppressive or liberating
effects such inclusionary or exclusionary actions promote.
As a discipline from which to consider the social inclusion
and exclusion concepts, sociology offers an excellent
vantage. Sociology is well oriented to consider facets of
social equality and inequality, social integration and stratification,
social mobility as it relates to social inclusion and
exclusion, and the functional contributions of the periphery
relative to the social core. Sociology provides a needed vantage
from which to consider social inclusion as it lends itself
to extension beyond economic or natural fitness.
In the social world, whether one is welcomed, represented,
or provided for by the mainstream, or whether one is
ostracized, ignored, or bemired, the outcome is a collection
of social practices. These social practices result from various
degrees of intimacy and interactions between friends, strangers,
families, colleagues, kinship groups, communities, cultures,
and even whole societies—all of which lend themselves
to sociological study.
This article begins with a consideration of exclusion and
inclusion societies across time and place, including gated communities,
closed institutions, and caste systems. The article
delves into what is described as the natural order of social
inclusion and exclusion. It explores some of the theories and
findings that have come out of such an approach, including the
evolutionary and sociobiological work in the area. To make its
case for a sociology of social inclusion, the article then gazes
back in time to three examples: ostracism in 5th-century
Athens, solidarism in 19th century France, and contemporary
considerations of stigma as influenced by the work of Goffman.
Building on this, the article proposes that societies which
emphasize differences in social integration are structured by
architectures of inclusion that govern and manage how marginal
women and men inhabit social space, while functioning
to maintain many of the attributes of the status quo.
Exclusion Hierarchies
More than 50 years ago, the anthropologist and sociologist
David Pocock (1957) reflected that processes of inclusion
and exclusion were features of all hierarchies. Pocock felt
471957SGOXXX10.1177/21
58244012471957SAGE OpenAllman
2012
1
University of Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Corresponding Author:
Dan Allman, University of Toronto, Dalla Lana School of Public Health, 155
College Street, Room 524,Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M5T 3M7
Email: dan.allman@utoronto.ca
The Sociology of Social Inclusion
Dan Allman1
Abstract
This article looks at social inclusion from a sociological perspective.It argues that sociology complements biological and other
natural order explanations of social stratification.The article interrogates a variety of forms of social integration, including
ostracism within 5th century B.C. Greece, 19th-century solidarism, and Goffman’s mid-20th-century work on stigma. It does
so to demonstrate how in each of these contexts, social inclusion and exclusion can function as apparati that problematize
people on the margins, and by extension, contribute to their governance and control.The article proposes that sociology
provides a valuable orientation from which to consider social inclusion because it illuminates how social integration maintains
and manages the ways in which people move about and through their socially stratified worlds.
Keywords
social inclusion, social exclusion, social integration, social stratification, sociology
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2		 SAGE Open
that in general terms, the discussion of inclusion and exclusion
fed into efforts to define what might be called a social
ontology, or the way that the existence and social positioning
of groups in a hierarchically structured society would be
explained. Such a social ontology has been described by
Sibley (1995) as a landscape of exclusion; a form of social
and philosophical geography that melds ideology with place
in an exercise of social, economic, and political power that
invariably results in forms of oppression, and in many
instances, exploitation (Towers, 2005). Fredericks (2010)
suggested that belongingness as experienced in everyday
relations constructs the kinds of sentiments on which societies
of exclusion (and inclusion) are based. Referencing the
work of De Certeau (1984), Fredericks makes the case for the
importance of the everydayness of belonging and attachment,
and the memory and tradition it reinforces as means of appropriation
and territorialization.
One example of such a landscape of exclusion is a gated
community (Hook & Vrdoljak, 2002). Grant and Rosen
(2009) proposed these communities exist as exclusion societies.
They cite Flusty’s (2004) argument that the community
gates that enclose act to protect those inside from unforeseen
and largely unwanted encounters with otherness. Examples
given range from urban gated communities where exclusion
is legitimized as spatial inequity (Flusty, 2004) to the present
security fences undulating across Israel, or separating the
United States from Mexico (Kabachnik, 2010).
Herbert (2008) reflected on the ways in which urban
spaces in the United States and elsewhere are turned into
exclusion societies through the criminalization of public
spaces outside the rarefied protected enclaves shielded
within gates and walls. Focusing on the disorderly, Herbert
describes this exclusion as a form of modern day prohibition
that cedes out the homeless, the transient; and those who loiter,
panhandle, and display public drunkenness (Douglas,
1966). Herbert found that these practices of creating exclusion
societies are not new; that they have and continue to be
used as justifications for forms of social cleansing (Cresswell,
2006; Dubber, 2005; Duncan, 1978; Spradley, 1970).
Essentially the physical embodiment of territorial actions,
exclusion societies seek to separate and compound the
favored from the disfavored, and the hygienic from the dirty
(Douglas, 1966; Sibley, 1995). To do this, they collectively
create spaces of inclusion and exclusion, even if not all parties
cede to such collectivism.
Disability, like gated communities, is another example of
the ways societies create cultural spaces structured by exclusion.
Kitchin (1998) described the reproductive nature of
disablist practices, as assemblies that seek to ensure disabled
people are kept in certain places from where they come to
understand when they may be out of place. For Kitchin,
social relations between the disabled and the able-bodied
function to keep disabled people in their place and to signal
when they may be stepping beyond this space.
Prisons, like asylums and other places that remove individuals
from broader social life are additional if somewhat
more extreme forms of exclusion societies. These institutions
enclose the daily lives of certain social actors from
broader society, replacing wider interaction with complex
subcultures (Baer, 2005).
An altogether different type of exclusion society is a caste
system, which relies less on geographical separation and
more on social distance. A notable example is the caste system
of India (Nayar, 2007). At the root of India’s exclusion
society are the untouchable castes whose marginal social
position is owed to their relationship to impurities associated
with death and organic pollution (Deliege, 1992).
Berreman (1967, referencing Davis & Moore, 1945;
Lenski, 1966; Mills, 1963; Tumin, 1953), held that caste systems—unlike
gated communities, inner cities, orphanages,
leper colonies, asylums, and prisons—are fundamentally
structures through which power and privilege are allocated via
interdependent social classifications ordered by stratified and
ranked divisions of labor. Mencher (1974) referenced Leach
(1960) in suggesting that India’s caste classifications facilitate
divisions of labor free of the competition and expectations of
mobility inherent in other systems.
As exclusion societies, caste systems perpetuate themselves
and the positions of privilege provided to those
included within them. Yet they are different from other exclusion
societies because across many noncaste landscapes of
exclusion, mobility is conceivable and emulation of status is
possible. However, in caste systems, place within the exclusion
or inclusion hierarchy is ascribed at birth (Berreman,
1967, referencing Bailey, 1957; Sinha, 1959, 1962; Srinivas,
1956, 1966). Such exclusion by ascription has an economic
dimension also through the way in which untouchables are
“denied control of the means of production” (Deliege, 1992,
p. 170, referencing Oommen, 1984). This results in forms of
deprivation and poverty that enforce dependence, deference,
and ultimately acceptance.
Exclusion societies are identifiable at different places
in time, space, and geography. Such societies tend to be
associated with differential access to social and economic
well-being, and differential proximity to illness and disease.
Inclusion societies, however, evolve from within
such contexts. They are characterized by movements
toward greater social justice, equality, and collectivism
in response to the kinds of global oppressions exclusion
societies embody and perpetuate.
A Natural Order
Mechanisms of social inclusion and exclusion and the
effects of these have been thoroughly investigated within
the field of psychology and related disciplines. Work in this
area has sought to better understand possible evolutionary
origins of social inclusion and exclusion, and potential
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sociobiological purposes to these different explanations of
integration (Kurzban & Leary, 2001).
Eisenberger and Lieberman (2005) and MacDonald and
Leary (2005) have approached inclusion and exclusion from
a psychosocial and physiological perspective in which they
consider how the impacts of these social practices share overlapping
characteristics with our physical pain systems.
Eisenberger and Lieberman reflected that our social interconnectivity
is as fundamental as our most basic human needs for
fire, sustenance, and shelter and that the absence of such connectivity
is experienced, literally, as pain. They propose that
the pain of social exclusion, separation, or rejection share
many of the experiential attributes of forms of physical pain.
Referencing Baumeister (2000), Eisenberger and Liberman
described how across many centuries and cultures, various
forms of storytelling and artistic expression reflect how the
interruption, loss, or absence of social bonds can manifest as
intense experiences of human pain and suffering. They point
out that the pain and suffering associated with the loss of
social bonds is recognized by many legal systems also.
To help explain the social, psychological, and physical
pain experienced by exclusion, Eisenberger and Lieberman
(2004) developed pain overlap theory. This theory holds that
different kinds of pain utilize elements of shared processing
systems. As reflected by MacDonald and Leary (2005),
among our less developed ancestors, both physical and social
pain were functional in that they steered kin and other social
groups from environmental and other threats, reorienting
them in the direction of helpful others. As such, the social
pain of exclusion was seen to have evolved as a means of
responding to danger.
In detailing their sociometer theory, Leary, Tambor,
Terdal, and Downs, (1995) explained why inclusionary and
integrational practices are so fundamentally important to
social interactions and how we are designed to detect them.
They note that many writers have suggested that the human
need to seek inclusion and to avoid exclusion is essential,
and furthermore, that as a developmental trait, this orientation
likely can be traced to its survival benefit (Ainsworth,
1989; Barash, 1977; Baumeister & Leary, 1995; Baumeister
& Tice, 1990; Bowlby, 1969; Hogan, 1982; Hogan, Jones, &
Cheek, 1985).
For Leary et al. (1995), an individual’s sociometer is
managed through self-esteem where social inclusion and
exclusion are used as mechanisms to monitor the well-being
of an individual or group’s social relations. These authors
use the sociometer to underscore pain overlap theory by
suggesting that self-esteem is a kind of inclusion detector
that meters changes in the inclusionary or exclusionary
positioning of individuals. From this perspective, it would
be this need for detection that ultimately drives individuals
to maximize their quest for inclusion while minimizing the
possibility of exclusion.
Along with the overlapping pain thesis and the sociometer/self-esteem
thesis, Baumeister and Leary (1995) have
posited a belongingness thesis. This suggests the need to
belong is a fundamental human motivation. Here, along
with base needs like food and shelter (Bernstein, Sacco,
Young, Hugenberg, & Cook, 2010), belongingness is held
to be a foundational human need that results in a general
pattern whereby social inclusion is used to reward, and
social exclusion to punish. The outcome is a gauge that
structures both social values and comportment (Baumeister
& Leary, 1995).
Whereas a sociological perspective might suggest at the
societal level that there exist a series of motivations to design
inclusive frameworks for the betterment of social life, a natural
order perspective would suggest that basic human survival
and reproduction benefit from the evolution of cohesive
group living; that to an extent, inclusion and exclusion as
components of a behavioral repertoire may have helped to
ensure evolutionary and reproductive fitness (Leary et al.,
1995). This thinking suggests that such fitness at the level of
kin networks or community groups may mirror existing physiological
traits for responding to physical pain, to also structure
responses to social pain. From this perspective, the
exclusion/inclusion continuum exists alongside a biologically
driven, psychological reaction that leads to the adoption of a
generalized dislike of social exclusion and a favoring of the
maintenanceofadequateinclusion(Eisenberger&Lieberman,
2005; MacDonald & Leary, 2005).
Such arguments present another perspective as to why different
societies and social groupings across diverse historical
periods and geographical locations develop intense drives to
create and strengthen social institutions around various
aspects of social integration and exclusion. Yet, as the examples
of ostracism, solidarism, and stigmatism will reflect, any
biological push with regards to social stratification is accompanied
by a social world pull. The examples of ostracism,
solidarism, and stigmatism will demonstrate how at different
intervals in history, it is not necessarily biological forces but
instead social architectures that become employed in the creation
and continuance of inclusion societies.
Ostracism
Acts and practices of including or excluding others as aspects
of systems of stratification may be as old as much of humanity
itself. Certainly, most societies display some degree of
taboos and customs concerning forms of both social rejection
and social acceptance (Douglas, 1966, Gruter & Masters,
1986; Lévi-Strauss, 1963; Radcliffe-Brown, 1952).
In institutional terms, a very early form of social
exclusion is evident in the scholarship of the role of ostracism
in Athens, Greece, during the 5th century b.c., when
the provision of an official mechanism to institutionalize
ostracism was enacted.
Although there is some debate within the works of
Aristotle and Androtion as well as subsequent scholars about
whether the law of ostracism originated with Cleisthenes
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4		 SAGE Open
prior to the first official ostracism of Hipparchos, son of
Charmos, in 488 b.c. (Kagan, 1961; Raubitschek, 1951;
Robinson, 1939, 1945, 1946, 1952), there is consensus that
the law appeared sometime in the 20 years surrounding the
battle at Marathon. The law of ostracism was instituted as a
means to protect young democratic institutions from the
resurgence of tyranny (Raubitschek, 1951). It did so
through the enactment of an ostrakophoria (Goligher,
1910, p. 558, referencing Carcopino, 1909; Rehbinder,
1986, p. 323). Thus, ostracism was considered a democratic
process in which those who were qualified to vote would
“scratch onto a clay shard the name of a party leader to be
banned (hence the name ostrakismos = shard judgment)”
(Rehbinder, 1986, p. 323).
As an initial incident in a series of expulsions driven by
the desire for political control (Kagan, 1961), the very first
political ostracism was followed by the successive exclusion
of Magakles in 487-6, Xanthippos in 485-4, andAristeides in
483-2.
As institutionalized more than 25 centuries ago, ostracism
was used almost exclusively as a political weapon against
male generals (Raubitschek, 1951), as a means to mitigate the
influence of political rivals (Kagan, 1961) and to police and
control the well-being of the state. Rehbinder (1986) suggested
the main aim of ostracism was to “exclude the losing
party leader from the state” as “early democracy could not
integrate the continuous action of opposition parties into the
political process” (p. 321). To address this and to solve party
conflicts, a law of ostracism essentially functioned to banish
the leader of the opposition.
Importantly, Athenian ostracism was levied against an
already elite class who for tyrannical activities or suspicions
of tyranny were considered political liabilities or dangers.
These acts did not bring shame on the recipient, but rather
were prestigious, even honorable—a status reflected in the
convention for the ostracized individual to retain his property,
and, after his return, to regain his elite personal and
social status (Rehbinder, 1986).
As Aristotle wrote in Politics:
Democratic states institute the rule of ostracism
[because] such states are held to aim at equality above
anything else; and with that aim in view they used to
pass a sentence of ostracism on those whom they
regarded as having too much influence owing to their
wealth or the number of their connexions or any other
form of political strength. (Barker, 1952, p. 135, referenced
in Masters, 1986, p. 390)
Ostracism as it came to be enacted in Attic democracy
was not an event applied lightly or arbitrarily. It required
careful deliberation, a large quorum, and the immunity of
an ostracized person’s family. In essence, ostracism acted
like a safety valve that ensured a smoother, more peaceful,
and less tumultuous running of the state (Kagan, 1961).
As instituted at the time, the law of ostracism was seen to
be successful. It so weakened the ability of potentially disruptive
subversive groups to wreak havoc on society and its
political systems, that in the more than 90 years between 508
and 417 b.c., no more than 20 official ostracisms took place
(Ostwald, 1955).
Given that modern industrial societies increasingly tend to
frown on the kinds of excluding practices as reflected in the
legal practice of ostracism (Rehbinder, 1986), it can be challenging
to acknowledge that ostracism exists in contemporary
societies also, legally through, for example, formal
punishments such as imprisonment, or racial prejudice,
scapegoating, and xenophobia (Gruter & Masters, 1986). For
Kort (1986), ostracism can be considered as coerced or involuntary
exit of an individual or individuals from the society in
which they live that manifests as a range of exclusions. Thus,
a society demonstrating variation in ostracism practices
reflects a society with solidaristic strategies for the exclusion
of its members from participation and from occupying positions
of respect (Kort, 1986, referencing Masters, 1986).
Solidarism
To turn from the ostracism of 5th-century Athens to the
solidarism of late-19th-century France, allows for the contrast
of an early institutional approach to social exclusion
with an equally enlightening historical era of inclusion.
The concept of solidarism evolved in the late-19th-century
in France during a period of social, epistemological, and
ontological change. It was an age when understandings of
autonomy were being reconsidered by “scientism, political
ideologies (especially Marxism) and the Roman Catholic
Magister,” entities united in their intent to denounce an
increasing vanity-like individualism (Vincent, 2001, p. 414).
Although, within this period, the idea of solidarity was
not an established ethical reference, French Protestants
united around this new form of solidarity known as solidarism.
In doing so, the Protestants defined a path forward in
their transformed identity as a social minority (Vincent,
2001).
For this underclass, being an excluded minority was not
seen as a stance from which to claim social or human rights.
Rather, exclusion was seen as igniting the kind of freedoms
of thought and associations, which lent themselves to the
reconciliation of identity-lending conceptualizations like
justice and liberty (Vincent, 2001).
Although French Protestants were bound by religion,
their move to solidarism is not seen as being directly related
to religious teachings or directives. If anything, French
Protestantism of this period was wary of “religious pietism
and political liberalism and generally suspicious of any institutional
expression of the desire for social justice” (Vincent,
2001, p. 415). As a result, they turned instead to groups not
known as religious in connotation, such as trade associations,
unions, and left-of-centre political parties.
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It has been suggested that the story of solidarism is essentially
the story of France’s move to the welfare state. In
opposing collectivism because it potentially threatened individual
liberty, while promoting the empowerment of the
working class, the new philosophy of solidarism countered
the individualism of laissez-faire liberalism and social
Darwinism. In time, solidarism would come to help to dismantle
existing resistance to social reform and to usher in
this new era of Welfarism (Sheradin, 2000).
Léon Bourgeois’s book Solidarité (1998), which first
appeared in 1896, is held to be a form of manifesto for the solidarism
movement. In the decades prior to the First World War,
the newly empowered French Radical Party were looking for
a philosophy that would help them to maintain central power
against the right-leaning individualists and the left-leaning
collectivists (Hayward, 1961, 1963). In 1895-1896, during the
short-lived Radical government of Bourgeois, he published a
pamphlet titled Solidarité based on a series of his public letters
that had appeared earlier. The main intent of this document
was to advocate for a new approach, between “retreating laissez-faire
liberalism and ascendant socialism.” The aim of the
particular piece of writing was to shine a light on “the duties
that citizens owed to each other” (Koskenniemi, 2009, p. 285).
Bourgeois’s Solidarité is seen as representing what has
been described as a belle époque within the Third Republic
(Hayward, 1963). Solidarism became the main social
philosophy of his new radical party (Koskenniemi, 2009),
orienting it and the nation toward what in time would
become a new more inclusive state. As a new political and
collective philosophy, solidarism was seen as reflective of a
modernization of the revolutionary maxim: liberty, equality,
and fraternity.
Notably, solidarism’s narrative features the influences of
democracy and humanism, through its belief in the development
and contributions of every individual, and through its
assertion of the inherent dignity of all of humanity (Sheradin,
2000).
Solidarism was committed to democracy, to the empowerment
of the working class, and to 19th-century understandings
of human reliance and interdependence (Sheradin, 2000). In
being so committed, one can find a second meaning in this
movement, one interwoven with concern over balancing selfinterest
with the era’s philosophical humanistic ideals.
It is not surprising that among the principles of French
solidarism was the belief that the liberty of human kind was
not freedom absolute, but rather an understanding that free
individuals were also in debt to society, to every other citizen,
and to future generations (Koskenniemi, 2009).
In time, with the passing of World War I, the French
Radical Party fell from favor as many of the working class
shifted their allegiance to the Socialists following the
Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 (Hayward, 1963). Ultimately,
the harshness of World War I ended much of the utopian
inclusivity inherent within the solidarist approach, and by
the 1920s, much of the impact and influence of solidarism
had been depleted (Koskenniemi, 2009).
However, for the generation or two of those in France
moved by the solidarist approach to social integration, one of
the most persuasive elements of the philosophy and one that
lent to its fashionableness was what Hayward (1961)
described as an open sesame inclusive approach to mitigating
the social conflicts of the era. The philosophy was meaningful
to the time also because as an approach, it was not really
radical at all. Rather, it melded elements of community, inclusivity,
and social solidarity—all useful mechanisms to help
the populace attain security against poverty, illness, unemployment,
and war (Hayward, 1961).
The broad solidarism movement was oriented to the reconciliation
of individual and social ethics with the belief that
all citizens had the free will to interact and develop relationships
with others (Vincent, 2001). Solidarism in essence acted
as a shared and uniting philosophy—a precondition of the
era’s new approaches toward social contractuality (Foschi &
Cicciola, 2006)
For Koskenniemi (2009), the influences of these preconditions
would be felt at home and abroad, playing a defining
role in solardistic evolutions throughout the Spanish Civil
War, World War II, the beginning forays across the continent
toward the establishment of the European Union (EU), and
ultimately, as the sociological lens helps reveal, trickling
through Goffman’s 1950s work on stigma and France’s
1970s social inclusion as promoted by René Lenoir.
Stigmatism
Stigma and the act of stigmatizing is a common and recognizable
form of social exclusion, yet, efforts to contend with
some of the prejudices and discriminations recognized as
components of stigmatization reflect forms of social inclu-
sion.
Inherent within Goffman’s (1963) work: Stigma: Notes on
the Management of Spoiled Identity, is a belief in the universality
of stigma and social exclusion. Stigma as a process
leads certain individuals to be “systematically excluded from
particular sorts of social interactions because they possess a
particular characteristic or are a member of a particular
group” (Kurzban & Leary, 2001, p. 187). The concept embodies
the functionality of “outsiderderness”; and the utility of
why humans, as “an inherently social species with a strong
need for social acceptance should be so inclined to reject
members of its own kind” (Kurzban & Leary, 2001, p. 187).
For Goffman and those influenced by him (Crocker, Major, &
Steele, 1998; Elliott, Ziegler, Altman, & Scott, 1982; Jones
et al., 1984; Kleinman et al, 1995; Schneider, 1988), stigmatization
occurs when the evaluation of an individual results in
that person being discredited (Kurzban & Leary, 2001).
As a sociologist, Goffman’s approach was both dramaturgical
and oriented toward a symbolic interactionist
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perspective. His main interest was in the structure of social
interactions and the rules that governed them (Goffman,
1967). For Goffman, social structures provided the context
for interactions, as it was social structure that steadied and
sustained social hierarchies (Scambler, 2009). Yet some have
suggested that Goffman may not have sufficiently attended
to political economy, or to elements considered traditionally
beyond the foci of symbolic interactionists such as class,
power, gender, and ethnicity (Scambler, 2006, 2009).
From a functional perspective, stigma in the natural
world reflects certain biological elements. Kurzban and
Leary (2001) suggested that this world is structured by a
series of interconnected interactions that result in variable
costs and benefits (see Whiten & Byrne, 1988, 1997). As
reflected earlier, there is a universality to stigma in the sense
that it has been observed in most human cultures and even
in the animal kingdom (Behringer, Butler, & Shields, 2006;
Buchman & Reiner, 2009; Dugatkin, FitzGerald, & Lavoie,
1994; Oaten, Stevenson, & Case, 2011). Examples of this
near universality include territoriality in fish, birds, reptiles,
and mammals, and cross-species status hierarchies and
social ostracism.
Some like Kurzban and Leary (2001) sought to frame the
exclusion of stigma from the perspective of biological determinism.
That is, as psychological rather than social systems
structured by natural selection to ease some of the challenges
of sociality. The proposition is that these systems or
exclusionary mechanisms often influence individuals to
subconsciously exclude dangerous others from social structures
and interactions (Archer, 1985). Thus, from this biologically
deterministic perspective, stigma is not so much
owing to the kind of negative evaluation as theorized by
Goffman and colleagues, but rather to a form of protective
disassociation.
Another deterministic approach to stigmatism has considered
the exclusion of stigma from the perspective of disease,
and specifically as a mechanism of disease avoidance. Here,
the basic claim derives from several observations. First, that
we tend to evaluate those who are infectious in the same way
as we would evaluate other kinds of stigmatized individuals
(Snyder, Kleck, Strenta, & Mentzer, 1979). Second, that the
most severely stigmatized groups (i.e., those who are most
avoided) are individuals who are evidently ill or who demonstrate
characteristics of the ill or diseased (Oaten et al., 2011
referencing Bernstein, 1976; Heider, 1958; Kurzban, &
Leary, 2001; Schaller, & Duncan, 2007). Leprosy and smallpox
are but two examples. For these authors, envisioning
stigma as disease-avoidance does not negate other processes
that contribute to discriminatory or exclusionary behavior.
Rather, it suggests that beneath or antecedent to other
processes is an avoidance system that seeks to limit possible
contact with infectiousness and disease (Oaten et al., 2011).
Parker and Aggleton (2003) reflected that often stigma
goes undefined in academic scholarship or reverts to somewhat
of a stereotypical, two-dimensional description of
exclusion. In a series of articles, these authors have argued
for the development of a more nuanced conceptual framework
that would go beyond the works of Goffman and of
biological determinists (Parker, 2012, referencing also
Parker & Aggleton, 2003, and Maluwa, Aggleton, & Parker,
2002), to think beyond evolutionary stigma or differentially
valued stigma and more directly about stigma as a “social
process fundamentally linked to power and domination”
(Parker, 2012, pp. 165-166).
Parker (2012, referencing Stuber, Meyer, & Link, 2008)
reflected that theory and research has tended to operationalize
stigma either as discrimination (as in the work of Goffman,
1963) or as prejudice (as in the work of Allport, 1954).
Subsequently, over the second half of the 20th century, the two
foci evolved along parallel but distinctly separate directions,
with the work on prejudice tending much more to tackle race,
ethnicity, and associated social relations.
Yet as Parker (2012), Parker and Aggleton (2003), Link
and Phelan (2001), and others have argued, discrimination
and prejudice, as components or forms of stigma, share key
relations with the production and reproduction of power
relations.
It is arguably owing to this revisioning beyond dramaturgical
performance and biological determinism that stigma
can be envisioned as a somewhat supplanted component of
the contemporary discourse of social exclusion and
inclusion.
The suggestion that stigma is not (or not only) performed
and not (or not only) determined but rather is culturally produced
as a social, relational, and powerful artifact is a compelling
argument (Buchman & Reiner, 2009). Equally
compelling is Scambler’s (2009) reflection that stigma can
be a very convoluted social process, one for which sociology
is well-oriented to imagine as a combination of experience,
anticipation, and perception, of the harms of blame and
devaluation; the fears and pain of rejection and exclusion;
and the hopes and desires for acceptance and inclusion.
Social Inclusion
How cultures and societies stratify and divide; how they
account for customs around inclusion, exclusion, belonging,
and togetherness; and how the processes that include
and exclude are talked about, described, understood, and
experienced, all provide some clues as to the role of social
integration and stratification within a given society. Indeed,
how stratification is conceived and discussed can obscure
the very nature of the processes by which such divisions
come to be. This is precisely why the discipline of sociology
is so useful. Unlike natural order sciences, it does more
than identify and posit explanations for social divisions.
Sociology, in addition to this, can reflect also on the disciplinary
discourses encircling discussions of these social
partitions. For example, one of the means by which stratification
is conceptualized and discussed could take as a
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reflective example, the pre–World War II writings of
Sorokin (1998), who in considering stratification differentiated
between horizontal and vertical social mobility. Sorokin
suggested that horizontal mobility related to changes in occupational
position or role, but not to changes within a social
hierarchy, whereas vertical mobility did describe changes
within the social hierarchy. Sorokin summarized his theory
by reflecting that within systems of vertical and horizontal
mobility, there could be individual social infiltration as well
as collective social movement. Furthermore, that although it
was possible to identify forms of mobile and immobile societies
within different geographical and historical contexts, it
was rare for a society’s strata to be closed absolutely, and rare
for the vertical mobility of even the most mobile society to
be completely free from obstacles.
As proposed by Sorokin, these types of social movements
could often vary across time and space, yet even across time,
trends—particularly as they might apply to vertical mobility—were
unlikely to be writ in stone. Although autocratic
societies might be less mobile than democratic societies, the
rule was not fixed and could have exceptions (Sorokin,
1998).
While often used to describe low or zero labor market
involvement (Foster, 2000), early definitions of social exclusion
in time broadened to consider barriers to effective or full
participation in society (Du Toit, 2004). These types of barriers
were considered to contribute to progressive processes of
marginalization that could lead to deprivation and disadvantage
(Chakravarty & D’Ambrosio, 2006). As the exclusion
concept took on currency, it began to reflect more than a
simple material nature and to begin to encompass the experience
of individuals or communities who were not benefitting
or were unable to benefit relative to others in society (Davies,
2005; Levitas, 1998). In time, the concept would evolve to
reflect lapses in social integration and social cohesion that
plagued advanced capitalist societies (Chakravarty &
D’Ambrosio, 2006). It would evolve also to refer to processes
that prevent individuals or groups from full or partial participation
in society, as well as the crippling and reifying inability
to meaningful participation in economic, social, political,
and cultural activities and life (de Haan & Maxwell, 1998;
Duffy, 1995, 2001; Horsell, 2006)—a definitional approach
that imbues exclusion in terms of neighborhood, individual,
spatial, and group dimensions (Burchardt, Le Grand, &
Piachaud, 1999, referenced in Percy-Smith, 2000).
March, Oviedo-Joekes, and Romero (2006) suggested that
one of the elements that unify the divergent definitional
approaches to social exclusion and inclusion is that social
exclusion is a process as opposed to a static end state. Further,
that inclusion, in addition to being a context-based social and
historical product reflective of social and national history,
tends to mirror also what Silver (1995) proposed were the
very limits of the borders of belonging.
Despite attempts at globally applicable definitions of
social exclusion and inclusion, it has been suggested that
there will always be patterns of border shaping that are particular
to specific contexts. This is in part because the weight
of inclusion versus exclusion is dependent on the particulars
of any given society (de Haan & Maxwell, 1998; March
et al., 2006; O’Brien, Wilkes, de Haan, & Maxwell, 1997).
Such society-specific particulars might take the form of traditional
and historic patterns of stratification, or be based on
how individual groups and/or characteristics may be valued
over others. Less clear, however, is which, if any, elements of
a given society or social structure may mitigate the kinds of
exclusion/inclusion dynamics that may be held aloft as representative
of normative practice. For example, in some
social contexts, patterns of inclusion and exclusion may
reflect different stages of social and economic development.
Alternately, these patterns may vary by type and/or political
orientation of governments, or by the religious, ethnic, or
cultural makeup of a given society.
Ultimately, however, the use of inclusion and exclusion
concepts has evolved to the point where within a number of
contexts, they are used as a descriptor for those who represent
a particular kind of threat to social harmony (Silver &
Miller, 2003). In sum, the terms social inclusion and social
exclusion have been used throughout the social science and
humanities literature in a number of different ways—to
describe acts of social stratification across human and animal
societies, as a principle to reflect the ordering that occurs
within societies to determine social position, and as a narrative
to explain and at times justify why one or more groups
merit access to the core or the periphery, to the benefit or
expense of others.
Initial discourses of social inclusion are widely attributed
to having first appeared in France in the 1970s when the economically
disadvantaged began to be described as the
excluded (Silver, 1995). The preliminary uses of this new
parlance appeared as a means to refer to a variety of disabled
and destitute groups. The government of France was among
the earliest adapters of exclusion terminology, and it is there
that most often the concept is suggested to have found its
contemporary meaning (Silver & Miller, 2003).
As a fully documented policy response, the concept of
social inclusion to counteract social exclusion emerged
toward the end of the 1980s, when the European Community
(EC) first used the term social exclusion (Wilson, 2006). The
appearance of the term social inclusion in the rhetoric of the
EC was in itself a key point of departure, in that exclusion
was suddenly held to be a reflection that “poverty was no
longer the right word to use to describe the plight of those
marginalized from mainstream society” (Williams & White,
2003, p. 91).
Ascertaining the contemporary use of the terms social
inclusion and social exclusion involves a study of diffusion
of, most importantly, the applications of René Lenoir,
France’s Secretary of State for Social Welfare in the Chirac
government of the 1970s (Davies, 2005, citing Lenoir, 1974;
Pierce, 1999; Silver, 1995).
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L’Inclusion Sociale
In 1965, a French social commentator, Jean Klanfer, published
L’Exclusion sociale: Étude de la marginalité dans les
sociétés occidentales [Social exclusion: The study of marginality
in Western societies] (Béland, 2007). Described as
an anthropology of poverty (Cl, 1968), Klanfer’s work
argued that society rewarded personal responsibility with
inclusion and personal irresponsibility with exclusion. If the
work of Bourgeois was a primary influence on the soldarism
movement almost 100 years earlier, the writings of Klanfer
would fuel the imagination of René Lenoir (1974), most
notably in his book Les exclus.
In his political tome, Lenoir contended social exclusion
was a result of France’s postwar transition from a largely
agricultural society to an urban one (Davies, 2005). While
the belief was that these events could lead to poverty, Lenoir
argued that they could lead to a brand of social polarization
also, which challenged the Liberté, Egalité, and Fraternité
ideals of the French Republican project.
Many have suggested that if there were a birth of the
modern rhetoric of social inclusion, it would be here, in
French thought that sought a means to reintegrate the large
numbers of ex-industrial workers and a growing number of
young people excluded from opportunities to join the labor
force in the new economies of the 1970s and beyond.
According to Silver (1995) and Silver and Miller (2003),
one of the reasons the inclusion and exclusion concepts resonated
so strongly for the French was that in their society, the
Anglo-Saxon idea of poverty was seen to essentially insult
the equality of citizenry contained within the Liberté manifesto—an
equality that, as reflected in France’s late-20thcentury
welfare state, operationalized charity as basic social
assistance in response to poverty, and as essentially a right of
citizenry. Furthermore, what would come to be seen as an
inclusive welfare state was held to be the most effective and
civilized way to eliminate absolute material deprivation and
the risks to well-being such deprivation could cause.
However, as the 1970s progressed, and as unemployment
became endemic, the passage of time brought even greater
numbers of those considered excluded, and with them everincreasing
reiterations of the new exclusion discourse (Silver,
1995). The result in France was a movement to protect les
exclus. The movement was so strong that by 1998, the French
posited legal codification to prevent and combat social exclusions
(note the plural) as a means to foster universal access
to fundamental human rights.
Within French Republican thought in particular, social
exclusion was seen to reflect ruptures in solidarity and the
social bond (lien social), something essentially tantamount
to heresy within the French social contract. Heresy because
the French social contract of the time was seen to hold (and
some may argue continues to hold) reciprocity, both between
the social obligations French citizens have for the French
state and the obligations that society has in return, to provide
reasonable livelihoods for its members. Here, though, the
accepted exceptions, as in many welfare regimes, were
restricted to those who could not work due to older age, disability,
or ill health, and did not extend to those whose deliberate
actions and/or deliberate tendencies toward illicit
pleasure, removed them from broader labor force opportunities
or expectations.
In some respects, the mutuality and reciprocity evident in
elements of French Republican thought reflected a social
contract that favored the already-included in its definition of
society. For the positioning of reciprocity within the social
contract, such a context has implications for the creation of
biases against the failings of the excluded. In particular,
against those who vary from society’s includable norms. In
the place of any such consideration leading to action,
appeared a sort of stoic romanticism. Thus, for the French,
the excluded came to represent a martyred or punished sector
of a society against whom the included had failed to live up
to their side of the social contract.
As the concept of exclusion grew to gain broader credence
beyond France, the EC and the subsequent EU, it increasingly
incorporated target groups who were not simply poor or without
sufficient resources. It incorporated those segregated also
from the social core through attributes such as ethnicity or
race, age, gender, and disability, and whose characteristics
could contribute to justify the need for deliberate social inclusion
programs (Omidvar & Richmond, 2003). That these
attributes tended to be noncriminalized and relatively politically
correct, as opposed to criminalized and/or contested, is
a feature that should not be lost.
Even though the concepts of citizenship and social integration
in the French tradition may present some challenges
for Anglo-Saxon manners of thinking, this did not, according
to Gore, Figueiredo, and Rodgers (1995), prevent the wider
adoption of exclusion frameworks across Western Europe.
These authors suggested that in appropriating the concept as
integral to modern and meaningful social development, the
EC was linking the concept of social exclusion more closely
with evolving thoughts around the implications of unrealized
social rights.
While EC and EU directives sought to carve out greater
social inclusion, other countries, particularly Commonwealth
countries—notably the United Kingdom, Australia, New
Zealand, Canada, and South Africa—were beginning to roll
out their own interpretations of this rhetoric.
In its initial contemporary use, the exclusion terminology
adopted in France and subsequently diffused elsewhere, was
meant to refer to those individuals who were considered to be
on the margins of French society of the 1970s. That is, individuals
considered society’s social problems, who tended to
share a particular social reality, a less than successful material
existence compounded with real barriers in accessing benefits
provided by the French welfare state (Daly, 2006).
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So great were the social problems, that Lenoir, would
suggest that a full 10% of the French population were exclu,
or outcast. According to Davies (2005), “the novel characteristic
of les exclus was not that they were poor (although
most were), but that they were disconnected from mainstream
society in ways that went beyond poverty”
(p. 3). This disconnect, it was argued, was facilitated by
their relative social positioning and by factors related to
poor health and social, economic, and geographical isolation
from active engagement in politics. From this perspective,
to be socially excluded was paramount to being of the
underclass; to be among those people who did not fit into
the norms of industrial societies, who were not protected by
social insurance and who were essentially considered social
misfits. (Silver, 1995; Stegemen & Costongs, 2003). Beliefs
about social conformity aside, Silver’s (1995) near definitive
list of the socially excluded reads in some regards as a
full 50% of the world’s population. In doing, so it lends credence
to Labonte’s (2004) assertion that the socially
excluded are liable to comprise everyone who is not middleaged,
middle class, and male.
It follows that just naming who is at risk of social exclusion,
based on identity, vulnerability, membership, or biology
will not suffice without some reflection as to who is naming
the excluded, where those who label or define the excluded
stand ontologically relative to their own or others’ exclusion,
and what if any the influences of personal, political, stereotypical,
or xenophobic biases may be. It is an element of the
conceptualization of social inclusion and exclusion particularly
well-suited to sociology’s contribution.
A Sociological Lens
In many ways, despite the contribution of the psychological
and life sciences, and even the contributions of social policy,
the concepts of social inclusion and exclusion are profoundingly
sociological. This is because at the very root of both
classic and contemporary sociological thinking are concerns
with social stratification, social inequality, and social class—
key concepts which the social inclusion literature repeatedly
touches upon.
Witcher (2003, referencing Burchardt et al., 1999)
reflected that social inclusion and exclusion were concepts
that were often poorly defined or theorized. Daly (2006) has
suggested that although there is nothing inherent in the inclusion
and exclusion concepts that defy or negate theorization,
in general, sociology’s attempts at their theorization could be
inconsistent or facile.
Horsell (2006) referenced Crowther (2002) in suggesting
that the contemporary interest in social exclusion and inclusion
were reflective of similar attempts to conceptualize the
dual influences of poverty and social deprivation. As such,
these concepts signaled that somehow the cumulative
impacts of poverty and social deprivation (or the cumulative
effects of social exclusion in the absence of social inclusion)
could represent a threat to social order.
Horsell’s (2006) suggestion was that, in purely operational
terms, the exclusion/inclusion paradigm acted to
reinforce neoliberal ideas about social actors and agency
as well as to harness principles of mutual obligation and
active participation; that the discourse, broadly speaking,
had both symbolic and physical dimensions. In its consideration
of the ways in which contemporary social policy
analysis treats social position as stratification, deprivation,
and inequality, attempts to tease out the causes and consequences
of social exclusion relative to inclusion could risk
becoming muddled by mixing together attempts to better
the lives and living conditions of people living below poverty
lines, with the illusion that more were being done than
might be. Horsell’s suggestion of illusion hinged on the
reflection that those who may ultimately benefit from the
application of such inclusion-speak when operationalized
as policy could tend to be those who already enjoyed a
number of inclusion’s benefits.
Levitas (1996, 1998) has reflected that the overall flavor
of the social inclusion rhetoric is strongly Durkheimian.
She has stressed that Durkheim and the exclusion/inclusion
discursive continuum demonstrate a tendency to repress
conflict as well as a tendency toward an approach to inclusion
that subversively critiques capitalism in a way that
would be lacking from a purely Durkheimian analysis.
Owing in part to this, Levitas (1998) labeled the rhetoric
of social inclusion “a new Durkheimian hegemony” (p. 178),
given that most contemporary views of inclusion correspond
to scholarly interpretations of Durkheim’s sociology, including
Durkheim’s emphasis on an alternative attempt to navigate
an understanding of society between unacceptable free
market capitalism and an unacceptable state socialism.
Such hegemony, according to Bowring (2000), leads us to
think of elements of exclusion like deprivation and inequality
as phenomena that occur at the very margins of society,
and by extension, to ignore social structures that influence
the included as well as the excluded. Bowring’s point was
that the exclusion/inclusion rhetoric risks being somewhat of
a red herring, because exclusion at the societal level could be
indicative of systemic deprivation and not just a deprivation
experienced or reported by those defined as socially
excluded.
For Wilson (2006), it was important to recall that social
integration per se was not a focus of Durkheim. For
Durkheim, inequality and social stratification were natural
results of society, components of a solidary system he divided
into mechanical and organic: the former being a fountain of
social cohesion and the latter a well of social inclusion.
Together, they were envisioned as the kinds of dependencies
that social actors within advanced societies share with one
another. Wilson’s point was that although Durkheim associated
increases in solidarity with social progress, he would not
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necessarily associate the same solidarity with social inclusion,
since in theory, advanced societies characterized by
mutual dependence would exhibit the kinds of mutual and
shared bonds that would defy the need for social inclusion in
the first place.
The emphasis of these authors, and arguably of a
Durkheimian perspective as applied to social inclusion also,
is that new or reborn ways are not necessarily different ways.
That despite its focus on the socially disenfranchised and
their position relative to a status quo, there remains a hollow
echo to the rhetoric around social inclusion. A void that is
both redolent of discussion of the hollow state (Barnett, 1999;
Davies, 2000; Della Sala, 1997; Holliday, 2000; London
Edinburgh Weekend Return Group, 1980; Rhodes, 1994;
Roberts & Devine, 2003; Skelcher, 2000), as well as a void
that references one of Levitas’s (2000) and Labonte’s (2004)
salient points: that it is one thing to promote an inclusionary
utopia. However, in the event that such a utopian vision
comes to pass, how likely is it that the result will be the kind
of social world foreseen? In other words, even if a utopian
ideal were within the reach of real-world, applied social policy,
what are the odds, as Kenyon (2003) suggested, that
attaining an inclusive society would result in the banishment
of all inequality.
It was Young’s (1999) argument, and Wilson’s (2006)
reiteration that although much of the West’s social inclusion
rhetoric may address many things, the root cause of social
exclusion is not one of them. In this, the rhetoric fails because
to address these causes would require acknowledgment that
even within real-world inclusion societies, people frequently
continue to experience poverty in a context that envelops
them with messages of the meritocracy that surrounds
them—a meritocracy that suggests that anyone with desire
and ambition can succeed through acceptable behavior and
hard work. For these authors, this represents a relative process
of deprivation—one that includes an encounter with a
form of culture shock where the culture in which the excluded
experience their day-to-day existence actively reinforces the
notion that they are receiving a much lower standard of living
than others.
Here then, one could contend, is reflected the relative
deprivation that leads to social exclusion “through a subjective
experience of inequality and unfairness as materially
deprived people seek to obtain the unobtainable” (Young,
1999, p. 401, cited in Wilson, 2006, p. 342). In a twist on the
variations in social inclusion discourses presented earlier,
this view holds that social exclusion morphs into “a cultural
phenomenon arising from dialectic relationships between
identity and social acceptance and the contradiction of a supposed
meritocracy in which the poor lack the material means
to meet the aspirations they are encouraged to embrace”
(Wilson, 2006, p. 343). In other words, exclusion becomes
social status contested between a hierarchical valuation of
different kinds of social identities (socially hazardous vs.
socially accepted) within a social world attempting to remedy
the inherent challenges embedded in an inequitable division
of resources within an acquisitive, material world.
Residuus Exclusion
In discussing the problematization of exclusion, the sociologist
Nikolas Rose wrote that the mid-19th century wore the
mantle of “a succession of figures that seem to condense in
their person, their name, their image all that is disorder, danger,
threat to civility, the vagrant, the pauper, the degenerate”
(Rose, 1999, p. 254). As the 19th century gave way to the
20th, there appeared efforts to create universally shared forms
of social citizenship. Yet even within this drive toward universality,
there were those who were cast as unincludable, just as
there are today. Within the new liberal thinking, universal
citizenship did not emulate fully the fact that the notion of
universal was still a somewhat relative concept and that a
boundary between the includable and the excludable would
not only continue to exist but would be reinforced also.
From this arose “notions such as ‘the residuum,’ ‘the
unemployable’ and ‘the social problem group’” (Rose, 1999,
p. 254), that is, states of embodied being, through social roles,
social strata, and entire classes that would, in time, become
integral to these new forms of liberal thinking. From such
vantage, the rhetoric of exclusion/inclusion, and the array of
notions and underlying beliefs about the utility of integration,
would become parts of the organizing, and traceable mainstays
of reform. From older, perhaps simpler conceptualizations
of inequality were born new ways of understanding
what Rose, citing Levitas (1996), described as a “two-thirds,
one-third social order” where a seemingly continually widening
gap between the included two thirds and the excluded one
third would continue to unfurl (Rose, 1999, p. 258).
Rose (1999) differentiated the new excluded from previous
form of unequals. Whereas minorities that arose from
the welfare state had claims to unity and solidarity, the new
excluded have few of these, and it is perhaps from this lack
of unification that the new expertise underlying inclusion’s
emphasis is born. Challenged from forging identity and
right of place based on shared exclusion, this new underclass
is “like Marx’s peasants, individualized like potatoes
in a sack, incapable of forming themselves into a single
class on the basis of a consciousness of their shared expropriation”
(Rose, 1999, pp. 254-255).
In moving from a welfare to a postwelfare, advanced liberal
order, social control is reconfigured into control that
moves beyond repressing or containing individual pathology.
It becomes both about knowledge and access to the production
of knowledge. This is because—to paraphrase Marx—
access to the production of knowledge provides for the
definition of what is and is not includable (Rose, 1999, referencing
Ericson & Haggerty, 1997). Thus, the new labor force
of control is no longer one that is either purely reactive or
purely punitive. Rather, it takes on a form of administrative
function whereby it oversees the marginalia comprising the
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bounds (and bonds) of inclusion and exclusion, of risk and
safety and permissibility (Rose, 1999). It was Rose’s vision
that for the excluded underclass “a politics of conduct is today
more salient than a politics of class” (Rose, 2000, p. 335, citing
Mead, 1991, p. 4, and Procacci, 1999, p. 30).
Although Rose’s discourse is compelling, one should
consider also whether all of the excluded are created equal.
Do they all share the same position within the underclass?
For example, across the Western world, special interest
groups have sprung up since the softening of the welfare
state, groups which include not only those that are socially
excluded—drug users, sexual deviants, the poorly socialized—but
also the physically excluded such as those who are
bodily or mentally challenged.
In order for the work of Rose and those who have influenced
his arguments regarding the inclusion/exclusion divide
to be applicable (these influences include the works of
Foucault, 1979a, 1976/1979b, 1985, 1991; Mead, 1991;
O’Malley, 1992, 1999, 2004; Valverde, 1998), the work will
need, in part, to account for diversity and social stratification
within the underclass—that is, to help shed light on how and
why certain social hierarchies of the status quo become replicated
within the margins, leading to some of the marginal
experiencing, in a sense, double marginality. At the same
time, even those who achieve core or nonperipheral social
status risk facing constraining hierarchies and limits to social
mobility that function to either deny or defy full integration.
Extrapolating from the work of Rose, the inclusion society
would not be a utopian dream, but rather a development
that to varying extents would further institutionalize themes
of inclusion, permissible rights, and the breadth of acceptable
conduct.
Conclusion
This article has reflected on social inclusion from the vantage
of sociology. It has reflected on exclusion and inclusion
societies, across time and place and has demonstrated the
importance of considering the physical world’s exclusion
and inclusion societies not only from a natural order perspective
but from a social order perspective also.
Many of the considerations explored here have embodied
measurable, objective approaches to the sociological conception
and consideration of exclusion and inclusion. Du
Toit (2004) has suggested current definitions, and their
applications within individual country contexts allow social
scientists and policy makers to present social exclusion as a
single outcome of potentially multiple determinants of deprivation.
Yet, this article has considered arguments that position
inclusion and exclusion as much more than the fodder of
contemporary policy. Indeed, it has demonstrated how
human integration and expulsion are both highly historical
and deeply sociological; that forms of social deprivation as
well as social entitlement span many hundreds of years, if
not the full course of human history itself.
For all that is known about social stratification, the tendency,
particularly from the perspective of sociology, has
been to consider inclusion and exclusion from an observational
standpoint. This has occurred through policy analysis,
historical analysis, and even consideration of some of the
sociobiological correlates of inclusion and exclusion. What is
less well known and less well developed are approaches for
understanding the subjective experiences of social inclusion
and social exclusion. For example, how exclusion and inclusion
are experienced socially? How experiences of inclusion
and exclusion are produced and reproduced socially? How
different social labels impact the experience of inclusion and
exclusion, and what the role of stigma may be?
For the reader, understanding the journey from social
exclusion to social inclusion sociologically is an undertaking
across potentially difficult terrain. Among other things, it
requires a critical eye capable of accounting for individual
and group participation and lack thereof (Daly, 2006).
And what of poverty? For some writers who have sought to
unpack social inclusion and exclusion, these concepts are but
alternate ways of recasting the notion of poverty. Others suggest
economic poverty need be seen either as only one of an
interrelated group of dimensions which work in tandem
together to contribute to an individual’s inability to successfully
access the overall labor market. Such an approach would
envision poverty as one factor in a multifaceted approach to
understanding the experiences of society’s lower strata
(Sirovátka & Mare, 2006; Woodward & Kohli, 2001).
As prescribed approaches to policy and practice, efforts to
contend with contemporary social exclusion often come to be
framed by a rhetoric of reformation, imbued with different
traditions in terms of how poverty is framed around either
relational or distributional issues (Murie & Musterd, 2004,
referencing van Kempen, 2002). It is a vantage that capitalizes
on Marshall’s (1963) model of postwar social rights,
where, rather than focus on forms of postwar poverty, the
focus on social exclusion is on redistribution, access, and participation
(Murie & Musterd, 2004). Then and now, sociologically
speaking, when poverty rather than social structure
is held up as the cause and consequence of exclusion, such
deprivation is presented as a failure of capabilities as opposed
to a manner of being within a social structure or society.
Chakravarty and D’Ambrosio (2006) suggested that an
emphasis on the shortfalls of economic thresholds as an explanation
for exclusion is not the same as emphasizing structured
inabilities to participate. This is because a focus on structural
inabilities allows for a more complex, multidimensional
understanding of the interplay, overlap, and social distance
between money, work, and belonging. As a reconceptualization
of social disadvantage, such a perspective provides an
important framework for thinking out alternatives to the welfare
state. It links poverty, productivity by means of employment
and social integration that in turn emphasizes integration
and insertion into a labor market, active and personalized participation,
and a multicultural national citizenry (Gore et al.,
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1995). It broadens also the notion of inclusion beyond biological
or economic fitness alone.
In this regard, the suggestion that social inclusion exists not
necessarily as a mechanism of sociobiological well-being only
but more viscerally as a reflection of outcome of economic
empowerment holds much in common with Richard Parker
and PeterAggleton’s post-Goffman work on stigma.Although
good arguments exist—and many have been presented here—
about why integration and ostracism can be interpreted
through both natural order and economic lenses, inclusion and
exclusion do not represent free-floating views. Like stigma,
inclusion and exclusion also exist at “the historically determined
nexus between cultural formulations and systems of
power and domination” (Parker, 2012, p. 166).
As systems of social power, these formations constitute
architectures of inclusion; that is, means and ways that inclusion
and exclusion are both enacted and talked about. Such
architectures exist as literal and figurative coalitions of
action, reaction, governance, control, and power which
together comprise how a policy aim like social inclusion is
wound, entwined, draped, and displayed for public rendering
and consumption.
In what can be described as a political economy of inclusion,
the hierarchies embedded in these architectures of
inclusion not only ascribe value to who is to be considered
includable but also reflect value structures that can lead to
forms of ideologically based interpretations about whether
inclusion is as good or better than exclusion (Rodgers, 1995)
based on variation in social power, the ability to hold rights,
and the representation or embodiment of hazard.
As with more traditional, physical forms of architecture,
inclusion’s architectures function to both limit and facilitate
the movement and interaction of people through hierarchies
of integration. Enclosed within these architectures are worlds
of inclusion and exclusion that push and pull amid new forms
of allowance, constraint, and conflict (Gumplowicz, 1963).
Parallel yet interconnected worlds in which, are reflected,
the socially excluded, reduced, and idealized as somewhat
two-dimensional occupiers of social space (Spina, 2005).
Gillies (2005) reflected that societies have a tendency to
normalize the sins of the included while penalizing the sins
of the excluded. This suggests that even if discourses about
social inclusion are effectively rendered as policy and translated
into practice, the act of revaluating the biases society’s
hold for marginal underclasses of excluded social actors
may well remain. This is to say that were society able to find
room within its social architectures for its marginal women
and men (Park, 1928), the fact of their powerlessness coupled
with their comportment could still relegate them to the
periphery, occupying colonized spaces stratified on one side
by accusations of nonnormative or deviant behavior and on
another by power relations.
For the contemporary open thinker trying to grapple with
social inclusion and exclusion as a set of potentially complex
concepts between those who study and profess a natural, an
economic, or a social order, ideas about power would seem to
be of particular importance—be it the power of the elite or the
empowerment of those with special needs. Power seems to
fuel the wheels of integration. Although power can be shown
to have a decisive role in both the natural and the economic
orders, it is in the arena of the social where it is perhaps best
understood. One only need look at the history of philosophy
and social theory for evidence of how power and proximity to
it can enable or bar integration. Power allows proximity to the
means of inclusion—essentially, to inclusion’s apparati.
Of course, simply thinking openly about social worlds as
variations of inclusionary or exclusionary societies does not
lead to societies that are more inclusive. It does, however,
allow for a more open lens with which to consider the past as
well with which to view the present.
Author’s Note
Portions of this article were written during visits to the University
of Port Harcourt, Nigeria; the University of Pretoria and the
University of the Western Cape, South Africa; and the University
of Namibia.
Acknowledgments
This work acknowledges the important contributions of Professors
Lynn Jamieson, Angus Bancroft, Alex Robertson, Esther
Breitenbach, and Anthony Coxon at the University of Edinburgh;
Professors Ted Myers and Liviana Calzavara at the University of
Toronto; and Professor Avril Taylor at the University of the West of
Scotland. Thanks to Professor Donald Sacco for deftly ushering
this manuscript through the review process at SAGE Open, and to
the anonymous reviewers for their perceptive and very useful
comments.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect
to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for
the research and/or authorship of this article: The author received
financial support from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research
(CIHR) Funding Reference Number 68356.
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Bio
Dan Allman’s work focuses on the social and structural production
of risk and well-being, particularly for those considered marginal,
vulnerable, or peripheral to a society’s core. His interests include
social stratification and equity, the sociology of health and medicine,
and global health.
by guest on September 19, 2016Downloaded from
1.3 Three Discourses of Social Exclusion
58
1 Three Discourses of Social
Exclusion
The term social exclusion is intrinsically problematic. It represents the
primary significant division in society as one between an included
majority and an excluded minority. This has implications for how both
included and excluded groups are understood, and for the implicit
model of society itself. Attention is drawn away from the inequalities
and differences among the included. Notably, the very rich are discursively
absorbed into the included majority, their power and privilege
slipping out of focus if not wholly out of sight. At the same time,
the poverty and disadvantage of the so-called excluded are discursively
placed outside society. What results is an overly homogeneous and
consensual image of society ± a rosy view possible because the implicit
model is one in which inequality and poverty are pathological and
residual, rather than endemic. Exclusion appears as an essentially
peripheral problem, existing at the boundary of society, rather than a
feature of a society which characteristically delivers massive inequalities
across the board and chronic deprivation for a large minority. The
solution implied by a discourse of social exclusion is a minimalist one:
a transition across the boundary to become an insider rather than an
outsider in a society whose structural inequalities remain largely
uninterrogated.
In practice, however, `social exclusion' is embedded in different
discourses which manifest these problems to varying extent. Three
discourses are identified here: a redistributionist discourse (RED)
developed in British critical social policy, whose prime concern is with
poverty; a moral underclass discourse (MUD) which centres on the
moral and behavioural delinquency of the excluded themselves; and a
social integrationist discourse (SID) whose central focus is on paid
work. They differ in how they characterize the boundary, and thus
what defines people as insiders or outsiders, and how inclusion can be
brought about. RED broadens out from its concern with poverty into a
critique of inequality, and contrasts exclusion with a version of citizenship
which calls for substantial redistribution of power and wealth.
MUD is a gendered discourse with many forerunners, whose demons
are criminally-inclined, unemployable young men and sexually and
7
R. Levitas, The Inclusive Society?
© Ruth Levitas 2005
socially irresponsible single mothers, for whom paid work is necessary
as a means of social discipline, but whose (self-) exclusion, and thus
potential inclusion, is moral and cultural. SID focuses more narrowly
on unemployment and economic inactivity, pursuing social integration
or social cohesion primarily through inclusion in paid work. The three
discourses differ quite markedly in how they present the relationship
between inclusion/exclusion and inequality, a theme which is central to
the overall argument of this book.
The following discussion of RED, MUD, and SID also considers
how the valorization of unpaid work plays through the different discourses.
In October 1997 the Office of National Statistics (ONS)
published the first estimates of the extent and value of unpaid work in
the British economy. If a monetary value were put on such work, at
1995 values it would have been at least equivalent to £341 billion, or
more than the whole UK manufacturing sector, and perhaps as much
as £739 billion, 120 per cent of gross domestic product. Among the
reasons for this statistical development was the insensitivity of conventional
national accounts to the movement of activities between
market and non-market sectors.1
Yet despite this official endorsement,
the dominant public and social-scientific understanding of `work'
remains paid work. Since the ONS figures confirmed that women do
much more unpaid work than men, and that although men do more
paid work, they also have more leisure, men's work is more acknowledged,
as well as more highly rewarded, than women's work.2
Following
a well-established theme in feminist arguments, Miriam
Glucksmann argues that work cannot be elided with those forms which
happen to take place in a market setting: work refers to all `activity
necessary for the production and reproduction of economic relations
and structures . . . irrespective of how and where it is carried out'. She
describes the `manner by which all the labour in a particular society is
divided up and allocated to different structures, institutions and
activities' as the total social organization of labour, and goes on to
discuss historical changes in the gendered division of labour within and
between household and market ± shifts which the new satellite
accounts are expressly developed to illuminate.3
Both Glucksmann's
perspective and the new official data raise another question. How is
the recognition of not just the social but the economic value of currently
unpaid work compatible with the distribution of the social
product primarily through rewards for paid work? RED, MUD and
SID have different capabilities for acknowledging, and thus for
potentially addressing, this question.
The Inclusive Society8
RED: SOCIAL EXCLUSION AND CRITICAL SOCIAL POLICY
In 1979 Peter Townsend published a major study of poverty, analysing
survey data from 1968±9. His purpose was to redefine poverty as an
objective condition of relative deprivation. Rather than defining poverty,
as earlier studies and official policy had done, in terms of levels of
income necessary for subsistence, Townsend argued that the crucial
issue was whether people had sufficient resources to participate in the
customary life of society and to fulfil what was expected of them as
members of it:
Individuals, families and groups can be said to be in poverty when
they lack the resources to obtain the types of diet, participate in the
activities and have the living conditions and amenities which are
customary, or at least are widely encouraged and approved, in the
societies to which they belong. Their resources are so seriously
below those commanded by the average individual or family that
they are, in effect, excluded from ordinary living patterns, customs
and activities.4
Expectations across society might differ in many respects, but Townsend
claimed there was neverthless `a loosely defined set of customs,
material goods and social pleasures at any point in a nation's history
which can be said to represent general amenities, or to which all or
most people in that society are agreed to be entitled. Those who have
few of these amenities can be said to be deprived'. Inequality might
affect the style in which people participated in some social practices ±
the lavishness of holidays, or celebrations of birthdays and religious
festivals. Poverty and deprivation went beyond this. There was a level
of resources below which, rather than just a reduction in the scale of
participation, there was a sudden withdrawal from the community's
style of living: people `drop out or are excluded'.5
Townsend was not the first to argue that poverty was a multi-faceted
process rather than simply a matter of low income. But his was a
sustained argument which widened the perspective from income to
resources, and from consumption to participation. The analysis
embraced housing, health and environmental pollution. It revealed
disability as a particular factor in producing exclusion. It addressed
deprivation at work, including hours of work, job security, and the
working environment, and looked at the relationship between work,
welfare and fringe benefits. The solution proposed was explicitly and
broadly redistributive. Townsend recommended a decreased reliance
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 9
on means-tested benefits, which he saw as a mechanism of social
control as well as a rationing device: benefits should be paid as of right.
He acknowledged a conflict between this approach and the principles
and requirements of a capitalist market. Nevertheless, he argued that:
National action to remedy poverty ± through incomes policy, full
employment, less specialization of work roles, higher social security
benefits, new forms of allowances and rate support grants and a
more redistributive tax structure ± is implied.6
Poverty in the United Kingdom also included a chapter on one-parent
families. This was a relatively new category in social thought. Townsend
noted that there was no such term before 1964, when `fatherless
families' were collectively identified, and no national collation of statistics
until 1967; `motherless families' were incorporated later. Consistent
with later trends in social science towards deconstructing rather
than constructing categories, Duncan and Edwards have argued that
lone-parent families should not be treated as a single group.7
But
Townsend was concerned about unmarried and separated mothers
being pressed into employment despite their entitlement to benefit,
and also concerned that lone fathers would continue to be subjected to
improper pressure. Fathers only acquired the right to claim benefits as
lone parents in 1975. This was one of a number of changes ± including
linking pension upratings to the higher of earnings or prices ± brought
in by the Wilson government, with Barbara Castle as Minister for
Health and Social Security. Townsend attributed the poverty of oneparent
families to a number of factors: the low earning-power of
women; the absence of public child care; the practical restrictions that
caring for children places on lone parents; attitudes to unmarried
parents; the social expectation that women should be the primary
carers; and the lack of income rights for women caring for children
within marriage or outside it. The restructuring of the benefit system
should incorporate larger maintenance allowances for children,
allowances for the care of children, and an allowance for the upkeep of
the family home in recognition of the unpaid work involved ± all paid
as of right, rather than means-tested.8
These recommendations went
some way towards recognizing the unpaid work of parenting.
The whole thrust of Townsend's argument was that poverty resulted
in exclusion from social participation, but he did not use the term
`social exclusion'. Reflecting on this in 1997, he said that he had
resisted the term for some time because he saw discrimination and
exclusion as `effects rather than causes', as `by-products of . . . market
The Inclusive Society10
manufactured class'; too much emphasis on social exclusion diverted
attention from deprivation. However, he said `I was wrong. . . . ``social
exclusion'' directs attention to the marginalised and excluded and to
the potential instruments of their exclusion'.9
He argued once again
for a redistributive strategy, not just through the tax and benefit systems
and public services, but through the reduction of earnings differentials,
a minimum wage, a minimum income for those unable to
work, and financial recognition of unpaid work through at least a
conditional participation income, if not an unconditional citizen's
income.
The eighteen years between these statements were also the eighteen
years of Conservative government, marked by dramatic increases in
inequality, in unemployment, and in the numbers living in poverty, as
well as more restrictive conditions for less generous social security
benefits. The Tories had a redistributive strategy ± but it was redistribution
to the rich. Over this period, `social exclusion' gained currency
in critical social policy, especially in the discourse of the research
and campaigning organization, Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG).
CPAG marked the 1997 election with the publication of Britain
Divided: The growth of social exclusion in the 1980s and 1990s.10
Its
three sections were subtitled `creating poverty and social exclusion';
`dimensions of poverty and social exclusion'; and `combating poverty
and social exclusion' ± a formula which leaves open the relationship
between the two terms. Walker, however, defined poverty in similar
terms to Townsend: it is `a lack of the material resources, especially
income, necessary to participate in British society'. Social exclusion
has a broader, more comprehensive, meaning: it `refers to the dynamic
process of being shut out, fully or partially, from any of the social,
economic, political and cultural systems which determine the social
integration of a person in society'.11
Contributors to the book were variously successful in maintaining
this distinction. They emphasized that poverty does not necessarily
lead to exclusion ± a point made by Townsend in 1979, who noted that
although poverty constituted a serious barrier to social participation,
nevertheless stability of personal circumstances, length of residence,
good health and frequent social contacts mitigated the effects of low
material resources. The CPAG volume argued that social exclusion
may be a cause, rather than just a result, of poverty. Homelessness,
health, unemployment, food, utility disconnections were discussed, as
well as (and in relation to) gender, ethnicity, the social security system
and the overall distribution of income and wealth. The agenda was one
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 11
of radical redistribution ± although Townsend was one of a minority,
together with Lisa Harker, who mentioned unpaid work. Harker, both
here and elsewhere, called for universal child benefit, plus a benefit
supporting child rearing.12
This would be payable in addition to social
insurance benefits, and calculated on an individual rather than
household basis ± thus reducing the personal economic dependency of
women on men.
A concept of exclusion which refers to being shut out fully or partially
is thereby extended to incorporate inequality, and its converse
necessarily implies much greater equality. Britain Divided concluded
on a cautiously optimistic note about the prospects for a redistributive
agenda under Labour, citing Gordon Brown's John Smith Memorial
Lecture where he argued that equality must be restored to its proper
place in the trinity of socialist values, alongside liberty and community,
and insisted that Labour would tackle poverty and inequality. Given
Brown's later redefinition of equality as equality of opportunity (see
Chapter 7 below), the caution may have been more appropriate than
the optimism. But in the years of Thatcherite domination, direct
defence of equality was difficult. It was assaulted as an immoral, even
totalitarian, imposition of uniformity, and a brake on economic
growth. Increasingly, the idea of citizenship was deployed in defence
of welfare rights and welfare provision. Thus Walker argued that
`social exclusion may . . . be seen as the denial (or non-realisation) of
the civil, political and social rights of citizenship'.13
Peter Golding
argued that poverty led to a reduction in participation tantamount to
partial citizenship, as low income families were excluded from new
information technologies, entertainment and leisure pursuits, as well
as from financial institutions and from political life.14
Ruth Lister's
The Exclusive Society was subtitled `citizenship and the poor', and
traced the development of the broadening view of social exclusion as
the antithesis of citizenship.15
Citizenship is, of course, another word which can embrace many
meanings, and whose inflection to the individual or the social may vary
considerably. Goodin argues that citizenship is a more egalitarian
concept than inclusion.16
Whereas inclusion focuses on the division
between insiders and outsiders, and does not address the relationship
between boundary and centre, citizenship focuses on the characteristics
which are shared. However, models of citizenship differ in their
scope, and thus in what respect citizens are to be deemed equal. The
version used as an antonym to social exclusion drew heavily on T. H.
Marshall's model, set out in 1950, which incorporated civil, political
The Inclusive Society12
and social rights. Marshall too saw citizenship as implicitly egalitarian
in relation to the rights and duties attaching to any particular definition.
But he also argued that the twentieth century was characterized
by the progressive extension of social rights: `the whole range from the
right to a modicum of economic welfare and security to the right to
share to the full in the social heritage and to live the life of a civilised
being according to the standards prevailing in the society'.17
It was this
emphasis on social citizenship rights, and the right to share to the full
in the social heritage, which made this a useful language for egalitarians
for it implied, as Marshall said, greater economic equality. On the
other hand, he also observed that the move towards greater equality
would be limited by the tension between the principle of social justice
and the operation of the market. Moreover, citizenship could operate
to legitimate inequalities, provided that they did not transgress
equality of opportunity, did not cut too deep, and occurred `within a
population united in a single civilisation'.18
Marshall's framework was not adopted uncritically. He had
addressed inequalities of class, but not those consequent on ethnicity
and gender. Some argued that the concept of citizenship needed
radical overhaul to avoid the problem of assimilating women to an
essentially male model of the citizen.19
Nevertheless, it formed the
basis of an egalitarian, redistributive, broad understanding of social
exclusion, inclusion and citizenship. Although social exclusion was, at
the extreme, the product of poverty, citizenship was fundamentally
affected by inequality. Lister's statement sums up the standpoint:
It is not possible to divorce the rights and responsibilities which are
supposed to unite citizens from the inequalities of power and
resources that divide them. These inequalities ± particularly of class,
race and gender ± run like fault-lines through our society and shape
the contours of citizenship in the civil, political and social spheres.
Poverty spells exclusion from the full rights of citizenship in each of
these spheres and undermines people's ability to fulfil the private
and public obligations of citizenship.20
Between 1979 and 1997, the social-democratic redistributive agenda
was recast in this new language of exclusion and citizenship. Social
exclusion was more clearly understood as a dynamic process, and a
multi-faceted one, than poverty had generally been, and questions of
gender and ethnicity had much higher profile; not only poverty, but
the whole gamut of social inequalities were brought into the frame.
Used in this discourse, RED, social exclusion mobilizes more than the
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 13
concern with outcast poverty from which it started. It addresses the
exclusionary processes in all areas of society which result in inequality
itself. The characteristics of RED can be summarized as follows:
. It emphasizes poverty as a prime cause of social exclusion.
. It implies a reduction of poverty through increases in benefit levels.
. It is potentially able to valorize unpaid work.
. In positing citizenship as the obverse of exclusion, it goes beyond a
minimalist model of inclusion.
. In addressing social, political and cultural, as well as economic,
citizenship, it broadens out into a critique of inequality, which
includes, but is not limited to, material inequality.
. It focuses on the processes which produce that inequality.
. It implies a radical reduction of inequalities, and a redistribution of
resources and of power.
If Labour's understanding of social exclusion were consistent with
RED, it would imply moving towards a more radically redistributive
programme than that set out in the 1997 manifesto. However, other
discourses, with different implications, are available.
MUD: THE UNDERCLASS AND THE CULTURE OF
DEPENDENCY
The evolution of RED took place in a political context where social
citizenship rights were under continued attack from the New Right.
Unemployment and the numbers in poverty soared in the early 1980s
to levels unprecedented in the post-war years, and social security
spending rose with them. The government's response was to tighten
eligibility for benefits and reduce their value, deny the existence of
poverty, suppress and abolish some of the key indicators of its extent,
and blame the poor for their own situation. References to the
`underclass' and to a `culture of dependency' became embedded in a
discourse concerned with social order and moral integration.
The New Right of the 1980s is now widely misunderstood as an
exclusively neo-liberal project, aimed at the deregulation of the market
and the reduction of state intervention. It was, however, made up of
two apparently contradictory, but actually symbiotic, strands of neoliberalism
and neo-conservatism. Neo-liberal economics underpinned
widespread privatization, and justified growing inequalities in the
The Inclusive Society14
name of incentives. But neo-conservatism, which developed alongside
neo-liberalism, was concerned with order rather than freedom, with
family, nation and morality ± and held no brief for a minimal state.
This was not the last gasp of old conservatism struggling to survive.
The `free' economy needed a strong state to impose and uphold the
conditions of its operations, especially in the restrictions on trade
union resistance. The state also had to police the effects ± most
notably in the 1984±5 miners' strike, protests over the poll tax, and
urban unrest, but also on a more routine basis. The strong state in turn
relied on the market ± and especially the ever-present threat of
unemployment ± as a potent source of social discipline.21
This dual character of the New Right is important to understanding
the political realignments of the 1990s. It is also fundamental to
understanding the discourses about poverty which RED was intended
to rebut. Those reliant on benefit were always separated into the
deserving and the undeserving poor ± those who really needed help
and those who were scroungers exploiting an overgenerous and insufficiently-policed
system. At least for the deserving poor, benefits were
generally seen as good for the individual recipients, if expensive for
society as a whole. Echoing arguments from the United States, this
changed. Economic dependence on `welfare' was construed as
`dependency', a pathological moral and psychological condition created
by the benefit system itself ± and fostered by the libertarianism of the
1960s ± in which the state was seen as a universal provider, sapping
personal initiative, independence and self-respect. Benefits were bad
for, rather than good for, their recipients. If this was true of individuals,
it was even more true of the poor collectively: welfare spending gave
rise to a `culture of dependency'. This discourse inexorably took over
the public domain. In a television documentary about poverty and
unemployment, the political commentator John Cole described the
`giro culture' as `an endemic culture of no work and reliance on benefits',
characterized by a `downward spiral of idleness, crime and erosion
of the work ethic'.22
The focus had shifted from the structural basis of
poverty to the moral and cultural character of the poor themselves.
The idea of an `underclass' was central to this shift. Townsend had
himself used the term without any critical connotation to refer to different
groups of the excluded poor: the elderly, disabled, chronically
sick, long-term unemployed and one-parent families.
A large, and proportionately increasing, section of the population
are neither part of the paid workforce nor members of the households
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 15
of that workforce . . . The ways in which they have been denied
access to paid employment, conceded incomes equivalent in value to
bare subsistence, attracted specially defined low status as minority
groups, and accommodated, as a result, within the social structure as
a kind of modern `underclass', need to be traced.23
This was a statement about the place of the poor in ± and notably not
outside ± the overall social structure. It was free from claims about the
lifestyles of the poor, and free from moral condemnation, except for
the social processes which generated poverty.
In 1990, Frank Field's Losing Out: The Emergence of Britain's
Underclass argued that the extension of citizenship rights heralded by
Marshall had been reversed by the effects of Thatcherism, particularly
by exclusion from work and increased reliance on means-tested benefits.
Exclusion from citizenship was the mark of the underclass, which
would not disappear without `the implementation of a series of policies
aimed at re-establishing full citizenship'.24
He was critical of the
growing tendency both to describe and to explain poverty in cultural
terms and thus effectively blame the poor for their circumstances. He
used an article by Ralf Dahrendorf as an example. Dahrendorf, like
Field, had written about the underclass in terms of exclusion from
citizenship: `The existence of an underclass casts doubt on the social
contract itself. It means that citizenship has become an exclusive
rather than an inclusive status. Some are full citizens, some are not'.25
But he also argued that the underclass was characterized by low educational
attainment or functional illiteracy, that incomplete families
were the norm rather than the exception, and that it was culturally
distinct from the rest of society:
It includes a lifestyle of laid-back sloppiness, association in changing
groups and gangs, congregation around discos or the like, hostility
to middle-class society, particular habits of dress, hairstyle, often
drugs or at least alcohol ± a style, in other words which has little in
common with the values of the work society around.26
Field was at pains to emphasize the structural, rather than cultural,
factors leading to the growth of an underclass. Unlike Dahrendorf, he
insisted that the underclass remained committed to work, this being
the `cornerstone value of the whole system'; it was `important not to
lose sight of the fact that the main aim of this . . . group is to win a place
back in society by gaining a job'.27
But he did not deny that they were
The Inclusive Society16
behaviourally distinct and a problem for the majority: `the existence of
an underclass tends to make our society a less civilised one in which to
live', and `it should come as little surprise that some of those who feel
they have no stake in `official' society should react in a way that
demonstrates their exclusion'.28
However, in discussing the characteristics
of a system which tended to trap the poor on benefits, he did
express concern about the moral consequences of benefit dependency
and the erosion of initiative, and referred to the `personal pathologies
of many of the underclass, and the culture induced by poverty'.29
Over
the following years, Field moved to a much clearer view that state
provision created dependency and eroded incentives to work and to
save.30
The characterization of the underclass in cultural terms was consolidated
by the intervention of the American commentator, Charles
Murray. Murray's tract, The Emerging British Underclass was published
both in the Sunday Times, which financed his visit to Britain in 1989,
and by the right-wing think-tank, the Institute of Economic Affairs
(IEA). He argued that an underclass had long existed in the United
States, and was now developing in Britain. He described himself as `a
visitor from a plague area come to see if the disease is spreading'. He
asked `how contagious is the disease?'; `is it going to spread
indefinitely or is it self-containing?'. The `disease' was cultural, spread
by `people . . . whose values are contaminating the life of entire neighbourhoods'
± by rejecting both the work ethic and the family ethic
which are central to the dominant culture.31
Not all the poor were part
of an underclass. Its existence could be diagnosed by three symptoms:
`illegitimacy, crime and drop-out from the labour force': and `if illegitimate
births are the leading indicator of an underclass and violent
crime is a proxy measure of its development, the definitive proof that
an underclass has arrived is that large numbers of young, healthy, lowincome
males choose not to take jobs'.32
These three factors, Murray argued, interact to produce pathological
communities in which the socialization of children ± especially
boys ± is inadequate: `communities need families. Communities need
fathers'.33
Fathers are necessary as role models to civilize the young;
but marriage and family responsibilities are necessary to civilize men,
who are, without these constraints, driven to prove their masculinity in
destructive ways. The benefit system feeds the growth of the underclass,
by making it too easy for lone mothers to rear children, and
removing the pressure on single mothers to marry. In a later account,
Murray's emphasis shifted even further towards demonizing lone
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 17
parenthood, and he proposed decreasing economic support for lone
mothers and their children, while increasing the stigma attaching to
them.34
The policy implications were not the extension of citizenship
rights, but their greater conditionality, reduction or removal.
This is, of course, exactly what happened in the United States. The
Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of
August 1996 abolished Aid to Families with Dependent Children
(AFDC), replacing it with Temporary Assistance to Needy Families
(TANF), in which there was no entitlement to benefits. It devolved
welfare provision to individual states, but within a highly prescriptive
framework underpinned by replacing federal matching funds with
cash-limited block grants. Levels of grant would be cut if states failed
to get people off welfare and into work: 25 per cent of all claimants
should be in work by October 1997, and 50 per cent by 2002; for twoparent
families, the targets were 75 per cent by 1997 and 90 per cent by
1999. For the first time since Roosevelt's New Deal, eligible claimants
could be refused benefits if the cash ran out. A limit of five years was
imposed on the total length of time a family could receive federal
TANF funds. State plans were required to include a provision that if a
family received benefit for more than two years, at least one adult in
the family would have to participate in workfare-type activity. Discretion
to waive this rule was permissible only where there were children
under the age of one. States were required to refuse benefits to those
refusing work or workfare programmes, and were to be penalized for
not meeting target participation rates in work-related activities by
TANF claimants. Teenage mothers would be ineligible for TANF
unless attending school and living with their parents or guardians ±
thus seeking `to discourage single parenthood and illegitimate births
by denying entitlement to huge swathes of the US welfare system'.35
Wisconsin was among the states which had pioneered experiments in
workfare before the 1996 Act, under waiver of the federal rules. Over
the ten years from 1987 to 1997, the number of claimants dropped by
60 per cent. In 1997, the Wisconsin Works or W±2 programme went
state-wide. All claimants were now required to work ± in unsubsidized
or subsidized employment or in `community service' jobs at below the
minimum wage. Lone mothers were required to return to work when
their youngest child was twelve weeks old. The Governor of Wisconsin,
Tommy Thompson, who pioneered the reforms was questioned as to
the morality and Christianity of a policy which separated very young
babies from their mothers and led to an increased reliance on soup
kitchens and emergency shelters. He replied that paying people not to
The Inclusive Society18
work, not to get married and to have more children was unchristian,
and encouraged irresponsible behaviour.36
Murray's description of the underclass cast it in cultural and moral
terms. In the United States, the so-called underclass is largely black,
so the discourse has an additional racial element. This is not so
immediately present in Britain, where commentators are often at pains
to point out that the victim-villains are poorly qualified white working
class young people. But like earlier accounts of dangerous classes
lurking at the margins of society,37
including Marx's lumpenproletariat,
it is a very clearly gendered picture. The delinquency of young men
is directly criminal and anti-social, accompanied by wilful idleness and
drug abuse. Young women's delinquency manifests itself in their sexual
and reproductive behaviour, the imputed irresponsibility of lone
parenthood. The two are connected through the assumption that lone
parenting is inadequate parenting, with both forms of delinquency
attributed to a failure of socialization, especially into the work ethic
and a belief in marriage.
By 1992, when John Westergaard took the underclass as the subject
of his presidential address to the British Sociological Association, it
was clear that there were three different meanings attaching to the
term: outcast poverty; the moral turpitude of the poor; and a less
specific, rhetorical usage which had become common in the media.
Westergaard argued, as Stuart Hall had done five years earlier,38
that
the term underclass implied a dichotomous view of society, and served
to obscure inequalities among the majority:
What the three have in common is, to start with, a postulate of the
recent emergence of a significant minority of the population who
are trapped, outside and below `society at large' either by cultural
depravity or economic deprivation, and an inference, whether
expressed or implied, that the divide between this underclass and
the great majority is increasingly the most salient and challenging
line of division for the future, by contrast with the older divisions of
class now said to be in eclipse.39
Westergaard went on to argue that this was exactly why the concept
had such appeal. It allowed the recognition of the increasingly obvious
persistence of poverty to co-exist with arguments or assumptions about
the attrition of class divisions in society as a whole.
Critical social policy was more concerned to defend structural
interpretations of poverty against cultural accounts which blamed the
poor. The term `underclass' became very unpopular because of its
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 19
association with Murray's rhetoric of moral inferiority and social
contagion. Despite its capacity to capture the ways in which aspects of
poverty compound one another, it was rejected on three grounds: its
imprecision; the lack of empirical evidence supporting its cultural
claims; and its punitive rather than supportive policy implications.40
Its
ambiguity meant that those who used it as a description of the monstrously
divisive consequences for the poor of Thatcherite policies
unwittingly opened the door to a quite different discourse about the
potential consequences of the poor for the comfortable majority,
where redistribution gave way to retribution. The idea of the
dependency culture, for whose existence there was little evidence,41
also facilitated this switch from structural to cultural interpretations.
Its central tenet was that groups of people excluded from society as a
whole, and especially when dependent on benefit, would develop a
distinctive set of morally undesirable attitudes and behaviours, characterized
by various forms of parasitism, crime and immorality. Lister
argued that `those who invoke the development of an `underclass' to
make the case for the restoration of full citizenship rights to the poor
are playing with fire'.42
The contested meaning of the underclass gave
way to a strong preference for talking about social exclusion instead:
thus in RED, social exclusion is used to actively refuse the moral
agenda of the underclass debate.
This has had little impact on the popular usage of the term
`underclass', especially in the media, where it continues to carry both
structural and cultural meanings. Adonis and Pollard defend its use. It
`captures the essence of the class predicament for many at the bottom:
a complete absence of ladders, whether basic skills, role models,
education or a culture of work'.43
It is characterized by `unemployment
and unemployability' as well as single motherhood and educational
failure. The cultural interpretation wins out: `there is no
question that upbringing plays a big and probably growing role in
transferring poverty and social inadequacy from one generation to the
next'.44
But as social exclusion entered public political discourse, it did
so in conjunction with references to the underclass ± with Blair himself
repeatedly referring to an underclass excluded from the mainstream.
Social exclusion is also an ambiguous term, capable of carrying both
structural and cultural meanings. Thus Duffy defines social exclusion
as `a broader concept than poverty, encompassing not only low material
means but the inability to participate effectively in economic,
social, political and cultural life, and in some characterisations,
alienation and distance from the mainstream society'.45
Where it is
The Inclusive Society20
used in conjunction with the underclass, social exclusion is at risk of
co-option into a highly problematic discourse, MUD, whose main
characteristics are these:
. It presents the underclass or socially excluded as culturally distinct
from the `mainstream'.
. It focuses on the behaviour of the poor rather than the structure of
the whole society.
. It implies that benefits are bad, rather than good, for their
recipients, and encourage `dependency'.
. Inequalities among the rest of society are ignored.
. It is a gendered discourse, about idle, criminal young men and
single mothers.
. Unpaid work is not acknowledged.
. Although dependency on the state is regarded as a problem, personal
economic dependency ± especially of women and children on
men ± is not. Indeed, it is seen as a civilizing influence on men.
SID: SOCIAL EXCLUSION, SOCIAL INTEGRATION AND
EUROPE
The increasing public reference in Britain to social exclusion was not
only the result of resistance to the underclass discourse, but the
growing importance of the European Union. The origins of the European-wide
emphasis on social exclusion lay in France, where the
opposite of exclusion was insertion. Silver argues that social exclusion
has a specific meaning in the French republican tradition, within a
paradigm rooted in both Durkheimian sociology and Catholicism, and
concerned with moral integration.46
Exclusion is understood as the
breakdown of the structural, cultural and moral ties which bind the
individual to society, and family instability is a key concern. French
discourses of exclusion, themselves contested, broadened out to a
consideration of groups marginalized economically, socially, culturally
and, in the case of outer suburbs, spatially; and to the fields of education,
employment, housing and health. Although insertion, as the
obverse of exclusion, acquired a similarly wide brief, a key measure
was the introduction in 1988 of a residual benefit, the RMI (Revenu
Minimum d'Insertion), stressing the reciprocal nature of solidarity.
Recipients of RMI were required to sign a `contrat d'insertion' ± in
many cases focused on employment, but in some involving other forms
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 21
of social participation negotiated with social workers, and addressing
aspects of `daily living, behaviour, and family relationships'.47
Silver sees moral integration as the distinctive characteristic of what
she calls the `solidarity' paradigm. Her reading of Durkheim, however,
understates the extent to which he saw social integration as based in
work (see Chapter 9). It also understates how far the moral integration
of `solidarity' is focused on work ± with work itself perceived as having
social as well as moral and economic functions. Conversely, she neglects
the moral element in liberal underclass discourse (her `specialization'),
seeing the main source of integration as based in exchange. Spicker
argues that although the language surrounding the RMI is more
communitarian, the effect is similar to US workfare programmes ± and
similarly individualizes the problem of unemployment.48
As a result of its origins within French social policy, the concept of
social exclusion at European level became, as Room put it, a curious
amalgam of a liberal, Anglo-Saxon concern with poverty and a more
conservative, continental concern with moral integration and social
order.49
But to suggest that there is a single discourse of social exclusion
in Europe would be misleading. The multi-lingual character of the
Union necessarily implies a variety of discourses, which will not map
precisely on to each other, even when translated from the same
documents. However, the differences run deeper than this, leading to
a series of overlapping national discourses of exclusion, rather than a
pan-European consensus.50
Discursive variation is accompanied by
national policy differences, as discourses of exclusion are deployed
within distinct political settings ± although these national policies are
increasingly oriented to and implicated in contested interpretations of
a European framework.
This book is not a comparative study of discourses of exclusion or of
social policy across Europe, but an examination of a single national
case. Its focus is the different discourses around exclusion available to
New Labour, and the uses made of them. However, among those
resources are the concepts of exclusion embedded in the documents
and policy instruments of the European Union itself. The discourse of
key European policy papers ± in their English versions ± reveals a much
narrower understanding of exclusion than that implied by Silver's
`solidarity' model. This can be typified as a social integrationist discourse,
SID, which stresses the integrative function of paid work. SID
had a wider currency in British political discourse, and by using European
documents as illustrative of it, I am not implying that this was the
main source of the discourse, as will be clear from Chapters 3 and 4.
The Inclusive Society22
SID can be illustrated by the two European Commission White
Papers on social and economic policy issued in 1994 ± European Social
Policy and Growth, Competitiveness, Employment 51
± which are widely
supposed to epitomize the social, rather than purely economic, concerns
of the Union. Despite the language of solidarity, these policy
documents emphasize exclusion as exclusion from paid work rather
than a broader view of exclusion from social participation, and prescribe
integration through paid work. The terms cohesion, solidarity,
integration and exclusion recur. The core concerns of both documents
are economic efficiency and social cohesion: `we are faced with the
immense responsibility . . . of finding a new synthesis of the aims pursued
by society (work as a factor of social integration, equality of
opportunity) and the requirements of the economy (competitiveness
and job creation)'.52
The economic discussion is couched in terms of
efficiency, deregulation, and the need for economic growth, while the
`social' discourse counterposes solidarity, integration and cohesion to
unemployment, poverty and social exclusion. Sometimes exclusion is
identified with poverty: `with more than 52 million people in the
Union living below the poverty line, social exclusion is an endemic
phenomenon';53
while the need for economic and social cohesion calls
for `solidarity . . . in the fight against social exclusion', to combat the
`poverty . . . which splits society in two'.54
The processes of exclusion
are described as `dynamic and multi-dimensional', and linked `not only
to unemployment and/or low incomes, but also to housing conditions,
levels of education and opportunities, health, discrimination, citizenship
and integration in the local community'.55
Yet although this list
might appear to echo the factors identified in RED, it is notable that
the terms social exclusion and exclusion from paid work are used virtually
interchangeably, while a similar elision occurs between `people'
and `workers'. A section headed `the free movement of persons' goes
on to discuss only the `free movement of workers'. `Promoting the
Social Integration of Disabled People' discusses only training and
assistance to enter the labour market. On the `key issue of improved
access to means of transport and public buildings', the Commission
will `press for the adoption of the proposed Directive on the travel
conditions of workers with motor disabilities' (emphasis added).56
Since Growth, Competitiveness, Employment starts from a concern
with unemployment, its focus on paid work is unsurprising. Few, in any
case, would dispute that unemployment is a contributory factor to
social exclusion, and work a factor in social integration. This, however,
is not the same as treating them as synonymous ± a slippage which
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 23
makes difficult the exploration of their empirical connection. The
assumption that social integration and participation in paid work are
coterminous is particularly clear in a discussion of education and skills:
`The basic skills which are essential for integration into society and
working life include a mastery of basic knowledge (linguistic, scientific
and other knowledge), and skills of a highly technical and social nature,
that is the ability to develop and act in a complex and highly
technological environment, characterized, in particular, by the
importance of information technologies' (emphasis added).57
The
emphasis on the importance of information technology skills is probably
exaggerated even in terms of the skills needed for employment,
but as a description of the skills needed for integration into society, it
is an odd list. Growth, Competitiveness, Employment treats the absence
of these skills as the cause of social exclusion ± or what European
Social Policy calls exclusion `from the cycle of opportunities': `The
failure of education . . . is an increasingly important and increasingly
widespread factor of marginalisation and economic and social exclusion.
In the Community, 25 to 30% of young people . . . leave the
education system without the preparation they need to become properly
integrated into working life'.58
Working life means paid employment. Unpaid work makes only a
brief appearance in these documents, and then with a view to bringing
it into the market sector to create more jobs. In ruling out ab initio the
possibility of `a generalized reduction in working hours and job sharing'
as economically inefficient, the economic White Paper says we
need to `think up new individual or collective needs which would
provide new job opportunities'.59
It proposes meeting old needs in new
ways. `Women's full integration in the labour market is expected to
create jobs in the provision of services and goods not yet integrated
into the market and currently being provided by either women's
unpaid labour or paid informal women's labour'. Improving existing
career opportunities for women will itself generate additional demand
for child care. Where jobs are not created spontaneously, member
states are exhorted to `encourage growth in the employment intensive
area of the care sector and of the provision of household services', and
thus to `enhance the perceived value, and therefore encourage
increased skills in such sectors'.60
The assumptions about skill and
value embedded here include the view that unpaid work is unskilled.
Greater recognition of unpaid work other than through market
mechanisms is ruled out. The extent of unpaid work, its necessity to
the maintenance of social life and human relationships, and the limits
The Inclusive Society24
to potential marketization are underestimated, and the problems of
low pay and gender segregation in the labour market ignored.61
In these documents, markets are not seen as benign. Markets have
failings, produce unacceptable inequalities and embody short-termism,
and thus require regulation, or at least management: `only a
properly managed interdependence can guarantee a positive outcome
for everybody', and `collective solidarity mechanisms' are essential to
counter adverse effects.62
This could be a prescription for a redistributive
welfare state, which might therefore acknowledge and reward
unpaid work, but it is not. The cost of welfare provision is seen as
excessive: `current levels of public expenditure, particularly in the
social field, have become unsustainable and have used up resources
which could have been channelled into productive investment'.63
`Solidarity' is a device for reducing the costs of social provision, not for
redistribution. The forms of solidarity invoked are manifold: between
those who have jobs and those who do not; between generations;
between regions; between `those who earn their income from work and
those who earn their income from investments'; and between men and
women, `making it easier to reconcile family life and working life'.
Notably, solidarity is not just a policy issue for member states, but a
matter for individuals: it is `the business of each citizen to practice
``neighbourly solidarity'' '.64
Hutton described Growth, Competitiveness,
Employment as the last gasp of social Europe before it was suffocated
by the monetarist criteria agreed as the foundation of
monetary union. But the tension between `monetarist' and `social'
Europe, and the dominance of the former, are already apparent in the
document itself. Further movement in that direction followed, as
austerity measures were brought in by governments across Europe
anxious to qualify for entry into the single currency ± in many states
provoking social unrest in response to cuts in welfare rights.
The emphasis on paid work is endemic in the financial and legal
framework of the Union. As the term social exclusion gained currency
in Europe, currency, in the form of European funding, attached to
projects to combat it. But the rules governing the use of the Community's
Structural Funds reinforce the understanding of social participation
as labour market activity. The Social Fund, the main source of
cash to combat exclusion, may only properly be used to fund measures
directly related to the labour market, either through integration of
marginal groups into it or through the promotion of equal opportunities.
In practice, since funding goes to projects proposed by member
states on the basis of additionality, many projects concerned with the
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 25
welfare of marginal groups which are ostensibly directed to improving
their labour market integration appear to have a wider brief.
The legal definition of citizenship within Europe is also biased
towards paid work. Louise Ackers argues that the general emphasis on
`workers' rather than `people' in European law produces a stratified
system of citizenship in Europe.65
Although the Maastricht Treaty
declares nationals of all member states to be European citizens with the
right to move and reside freely within the Union, this right does not
confer equal access to social rights and benefits in the country of
residence. Whereas paid workers, self-employed people and those
exercizing their right to remain after ending paid employment have full
social rights in their country of residence, members of their families
have only derivative rights. This applies, of course, to women engaged
in unpaid caring ± for children or adults ± who therefore do not have the
same rights as paid workers. If family members and dependants can
acquire social citizenship rights by proxy, non-employed persons not
attached to a worker ± students, disabled adults, retired people, for
example ± do not acquire them at all. Their right to move and reside
freely within the Union is limited by the condition that they do not
become a charge on the public purse of the host country. The essential
point is that the emphasis on paid work as the primary means of social
integration and the privileging of paid work over unpaid work has
significant and gendered repercussions for citizenship status itself.
A discourse about social exclusion which focuses on integration
through paid work tends to reduce the social to the economic, and
simultaneously limits understanding of economic activity to market
activity. If inclusion tends to shift the agenda away from equality, the
focus on inclusion through paid work exacerbates this. SID thus has a
number of features which distinguish it from RED and MUD:
. It narrows the definition of social exclusion/inclusion to participation
in paid work.
. It squeezes out the question of why people who are not employed
are consigned to poverty. Consequently, it does not, like RED,
imply a reduction of poverty by an increase in benefit levels.
. It obscures the inequalities between paid workers.
. Since women are paid significantly less than men, and are far more
likely to be in low-paid jobs, it obscures gender, as well as class,
inequalities in the labour market.
. It erases from view the inequality between those owning the bulk of
productive property and the working population.
The Inclusive Society26
. It is unable to address adequately the question of unpaid work in
society.
. Because it ignores unpaid work and its gendered distribution, it
implies an increase in women's total workload.
. It undermines the legitimacy of non-participation in paid work.
RED, SID and MUD are presented here as distinct discourses. They
are, of course, ideal types. All of them posit paid work as a major
factor in social integration; and all of them have a moral content. But
they differ in what the excluded are seen as lacking. To oversimplify, in
RED they have no money, in SID they have no work, in MUD they
have no morals. In terms of Walker's broad definition of social exclusion
as exclusion from social, economic, political or cultural systems,
the discourses emphasize different elements ± and posit different
causal relationships between them. Thus both SID and MUD are
narrower than RED, with SID reducing the social to the economic and
substantially ignoring the political and cultural. MUD, on the other
hand, emphasizes the cultural, with the economic deriving from this,
while the social and political are sidelined. In reality, although there
are examples which conform very closely to a particular model, much
public discourse slides between them. That, indeed, is one of the
reasons why a concept like social exclusion is so powerful. Not only
does the multiplicity of meanings which attach to it give it wide
acceptance, but it operates as a shifter between the different discourses.
Like the `underclass', `social exclusion' can, almost unnoticed, mobilize
a redistributive argument behind a cultural or integrationist one ± or
represent cultural or integrationist arguments as redistributive.
But there are also major differences between the discourses in their
capacity to recognize, let alone valorize, unpaid work. Part of the point
of Glucksmann's model of the total social organization of labour is
that work, or economic activity, occurs not only within the market in
the conventionally-defined economic sphere, but also outside it. To
understand the shifting forms of work and the relationships within
which they are embedded, the analysis cannot begin from a standpoint
which privileges one particular form or site of work. Many of the
problems with which politicians and policy makers now grapple can be
seen in terms of the breakdown of a historical organization of labour
in which men had primary responsibility for paid work and women
primary responsibility for unpaid domestic work, albeit often combining
this with some paid employment. SID barely acknowledges
non-market work at all, or treats it as a residual form. The unpaid
Three Discourses of Social Exclusion 27
work of child care, for example, is either to be drawn into the market,
or squeezed into the spaces around paid employment. Unpaid work is
addressed solely from the standpoint of the market. This is slightly less
true of MUD, which, while deploying the idea of `dependency' in its
refusal to valorize unpaid work, simultaneously complains of the
consequences of inadequate parenting. Yet this contradiction is itself
masked by the fact that parenting is not understood as work. In general,
the emphasis on paid work as a vehicle of inclusion, and the
construction of exclusion as non-employment, inherently privileges
market activity: it does not address either work, or social integration,
in terms of the total social organization of labour.
In the following chapters, I shall argue that the developing discourse
of New Labour shifted it significantly away from RED towards an
inconsistent combination of SID and MUD. The impossibility of adequately
acknowledging unpaid labour from this standpoint produces
deep contradictions between different elements of policy, most especially
between the rediscovery of community and the attempt to draw
everyone into paid work through the New Deal or welfare to work
programmes. This contradiction can be resolved only by a rightward
shift to a reformulation of the Thatcherite free economy-strong state
dyad in terms of community, or by a leftward shift towards a RED
agenda. A central political question for Labour's first term in office
will be how it negotiates between the different available discourses of
social exclusion, and how, especially through the Social Exclusion
Unit, it translates them into policy. Their performance will be judged
not only on whether they deliver `social inclusion', but what kind of
inclusion they deliver, for whom, and on what terms. The following
chapters outline the emergence of the new political discourse, and
their implications for delivering inclusion.
The Inclusive Society28
1.4 Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital: Czech Evidence
on Mutual Links
81
531
© Sociologický ústav AV ČR, v.v.i., Praha 2008
Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital:
Czech Evidence on Mutual Links*
TOMÁŠ SIROVÁTKA and PETR MAREŠ**
Faculty of Social Studies, Masaryk University, Brno
Abstract: In this article the authors investigate the relevance of social capital to
the economic and social inclusion of economically disadvantaged people. The
analysis is based on data from a survey conducted on a special kind of sample,
which is homogenous in one dimension of economic exclusion (income disadvantage),
enabling a more in-depth study of how strongly this dimension
of exclusion is associated with other dimensions of economic and social exclusion
and how various forms and patterns of social capital influence economic
and social inclusion (in these dimensions). The results of the analysis confirm
that individual forms of social capital often play distinct and mutually independent
roles. The analysis also reaffirmed findings that informal social
capital is more important in the post-communist Czech Republic than formal
capital and that the level of formal social participation and trust is quite
low even in this specific population. All forms of social capital (distinguished
here in terms of Woolcock´s typology) have proven to be substantially associated
with a degree of material deprivation; with informal networks showing
the strongest correlation. Although these networks provide some protection
against social exclusion, they are not a reliable buffer, since people of lower
economic and social status have limited access to ‘quality’ social networks,
and other forms of social capital are often absent.
Keywords: formal and informal social capital, general trust, trust in institutions,
economic exclusion
Sociologický časopis/Czech Sociological Review, 2008, Vol. 44, No. 3: 531–555
Introduction
Social exclusion is usually defined as a disadvantage and as the impossibility
of fully participating in various ways in the life of society: it has an economic, a
social, a political and a cultural dimension. These dimensions are generally assumed
to be interdependent and mutually reinforcing, thus producing a cumula*
This study was written with the support of the Ministry of Education of the Czech Republic
(MSM 0021622408 ‘Social Reproduction and Social Integration’).
** Direct all correspondence to: Tomáš Sirovátka, Faculty of Social Studies, Masaryk University,
Joštova 10, 60200 Brno, Czech Republic, e-mail: sirovatk@fss.muni.cz; and Petr
Mareš, Faculty of Social Studies, Masaryk University, Joštova 10, 60200 Brno, Czech Republic,
e-mail: pmares@fss.muni.cz.
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532
tive disadvantage. What is believed to be the major cause and the beginning of the
chain of social exclusion processes is the inaccessibility of paid employment [cf.
Dahrendorf 1988; Berghman 1997; Bauman 1998; Beck 2000, and others], because
that has a fatal impact on the material standards of the households of the unemployed,
reduces them to poverty and worsens their overall quality of life [Gallie
1999; Gallie and Paugam 2000]. The negative effects of unemployment and poverty
then include the narrowing down of social networks to just the immediate
family and closest friends, the loss of social capital, which could otherwise help
a person to become re-employed [e.g. Granovetter 1973; Fitzpatrick 2001], and
a decline in social status [e.g. Gans 1995; Giddens 1998; Bauman 1998]. A social
stigma is frequently attached to long-term unemployment and lasting poverty,
and these situations often lead to social isolation. However, some research has
shown that the unemployed are no less sociable, in the sense of informal social
contacts, than employed people; quite the contrary [Gallie, Paugam and Jacobs
2003]. Nevertheless, this stream of research has also shown that, although the
frequency of informal contacts sometimes increases with unemployment, these
networks provide less support than do the networks of the employed. This finding
applies to both the UK and post-communist countries, including the Czech
Republic [Gallie, Kostova and Kuchař 2001].
The question then arises as to what extent the unemployed and the economically
deprived participate in other forms of social relations, such as voluntary
organisations and civic sector initiatives or political institutions. Especially
important is the question of what kind of attitude and approach they generally
adopt towards the institutions of society at large, particularly those designed to
safeguard civil rights and life chances. Another important question is to what extent
these various forms of social participation or the related social capital (along
with other forms of assistance) help unemployed and income-deprived people
overcome the consequences of the economic dimension of social exclusion and
help them maintain a certain standard or quality of life in mainstream society.
This article explores the link between the economic dimension of social exclusion
(specifically, income disadvantage, material deprivation and unemployment)
and the role of various forms of social capital at the individual level. The
analysis draws on data from a survey conducted among a sample of people identified
as income-disadvantaged on the basis of objective and subjective indicators
(see below). Such a sample provides an opportunity to study in detail how
strongly this dimension of economic exclusion is associated with other dimensions
of economic and social exclusion and how strongly the various forms and
patterns of social capital, understood here in terms of Woolcock’s typology, influence
various dimensions of economic and social exclusion.
We will first specify the relationship between social exclusion and various
forms of social capital, and then we will describe the data sample and the methodology
applied. The empirical findings are presented in two paragraphs: the
first one focuses on the examination of different dimensions of economic exclusoccas2008-3.indb
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
533
sion and the second one on the role of different forms of social capital for social
inclusion in the economic dimension. The article concludes with a discussion of
the main findings.
Social capital and social exclusion/inclusion
Social exclusion is a process (and its outcome), whereby individuals or groups
become detached from group or broader social relations. In other words, it is as
a rupture of the relationship between the individual and the society at different
levels.1
It involves not only low income/poverty, polarisation, differentiation, and
inequality on a vertical social axis, but also the state of being in or out of a circle
[Burchardt, Le Grand and Piachaud 1999: 228], as a consequence of ‘mechanisms
that act to detach groups of people from the social mainstream’ [Giddens 1998:
104]. ‘An individual is socially excluded if (a) he or she is geographically resident
in a society and (b) he or she does not participate in the normal activities
of citizens in that society’, where ‘normal activities’ may refer to the following:
consumption activity, savings activity, production activity, political activity, and
social activity [ibid: 230–231]. As such, social exclusion is simultaneously regarded
as both a property of societies (largely process-oriented) and an attribute of
groups and individuals or communities (largely outcome-oriented) [compare
Berghman 1995, 1998; Berger-Schmitt 2000; Phillips 2006].
It can be claimed that social inclusion and social participation are usually
grounded in some form of social capital. It is also for this reason that definitions
of social capital accentuate its function in social participation, social inclusion
and social cohesion. Social capital is construed as a quality, as a social resource
or a social glue that is the property of a group, a community or a society, and as
such it is available to its members. Bourdieu [1986: 249], for instance, defines it as
‘the aggregate of the actual or potential resources which are linked to possession
of a durable network of more or less institutionalised relationships of a mutual
acquaintance and recognition – or in other words, to membership of a group
– which provides each of its members with the backing of the collectively-owned
capital’. Similarly, Coleman [1988] understands social capital, defined by its function,
as a resource for action that is available to actors and takes three forms: obligations
and expectations, information channels, and social norms.
Woolcock [1998] then distinguishes among bonding social capital (established
ties among members of a relatively homogeneous group such as the family
or close friends), bridging social capital (ties among more distant friends, colleagues,
and people different to oneself) and linking social capital (relationships
among members of different social classes).
1
Social exclusion may be defined as a result of the failure of institutions to integrate individuals;
for example, democratic and legal systems, the labour market, the welfare state,
the family and community [Berghman 1998: 258–259].
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534
To sum up, social capital in its totality affects social inclusion, an individual’s
quality of life and personal development, but also economic growth, democratic
governance and social cohesion at the macro level [cf. Putnam 1993; Knack
and Keefer 1997; World Bank 1998; Fukuyama 1999; Phillips 2006]. All this takes
place at multiple levels of social relations and owing to various forms of social
capital. These are usually believed to include: a) shared informal social values
and norms that enable co-operation [Fukuyama 1999: 16], of which the most important
is trust, as ‘the expectation that rises within a community of regular, honest
and cooperative behaviour, based on commonly shared norms’ [Fukuyama
1995: 25], b) horizontal, associational networks [Woolcock 1998; Putnam 1993],
together with the mutual trust that they produce [Putnam 2000] and possibly also
vertical social networks [Woolcock 1998], and c) civic and other social institutions
[World Bank 1998; Woolcock 1998; Lockwood 1999; Rothstein 2001].
Knack and Keefer [1997] discuss the mutual links between various forms of
social capital and explain that some forms of social capital, like interpersonal trust
and civic norms, are positively associated with economic growth and incomes,
since higher-trust societies spend less to protect themselves against exploitation
during economic transactions and have higher incentives to innovate. This is not
the case with the other form of social capital – associations within groups – owing
to the contradictory effects of the conflicting interests between groups [Olson
1982], which offset the positive effects of solidarity and cooperative action
emphasised by Putnam [2000]. Therefore, high social polarisation (ethnic, political,
religious or income differences) increases individual and group rent-seeking
activities (either legal or illegal) that undermine trust. Recently, Putnam [2007]
argued that social diversity produces distrust, social isolation and anomie rather
than conflict (the constrict hypothesis): in the short run, diversity strengthens
bonding social capital, while precluding the creation of bridging social capital.
On the other hand, wisely designed policies can alter this link if they enable the
social deconstruction of the lines of social divide (the US Army being a nice ex-
ample).
The notions of social inclusion and social capital are tightly intertwined
and can even be seen to overlap, and they are difficult individually isolate. It is
possible to regard social capital as a certain type of ‘capability’ that preconditions
the process of social inclusion (in the sense of ‘functioning’ in the existing social
structure). In many respects, the process of social inclusion also reinforces the
social capital of society. Nevertheless, it is not always possible to clearly differentiate
between the initial preconditions and the outcomes of the process of social
inclusion, because such outcomes then become the preconditions for further dynamics.
Aside from social capital, social inclusion is also naturally determined by
other factors and occurs along other dimensions (the importance of the economic
dimension has already been mentioned). However, these other dimensions are to
some extent also influenced by social capital (see Figure 1).
Neither the individual dimensions of social exclusion nor the individual
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
535
dimensions/forms of social capital need necessarily be inter-correlated – as a
number of analyses have shown [Knack and Keefer 1997; Woolcock 1998; van
Oorschot and Arts 2004; Wallace and Pichler 2007, and others] – and therefore,
they need to be strictly distinguished from one another, both at the general and
the operational, empirical level. As regards social capital, Woolcock [1998] states
that particularly two of its dimensions must be distinguished, namely, intra-community
ties (integration, bonding) and extra-community ties (linkage, bridging).
These can then combine to produce four possible scenarios, including low integration
and low linkage (amoral individualism), low integration and high linkage
(anomie), high integration and low linkage (sink communities) and high integration
and high linkage (social opportunity). These scenarios can be perceived
as forms (or degrees) of social inclusion.
The existing research on social capital in post-communist countries has
drawn attention to the different patterns and configurations of forms of social capital
and the significant effects these differences have on democracy and economic
growth. Informal networks (bonding social capital) are recognised as a crucial
Figure 1. Dimensions of social capital and social exclusion/inclusion
Social capital Social inclusion (participation)
Economic:
– labour market – unemployment /employment
– consumption (material deprivation)
Support from informal networks
(family, neighbours, friends)
Support from formal networks
(associations, civic sector)
Support from institutions
(welfare state, etc.)
Inclusive effect of shared norms
and a climate of trust
Social:
– (non)participation in informal networks
– (non)participation in civic society
(formal voluntary networks)
– (non)access to institutions
– (dis)respecting norms, moral
(generally acceptable) behaviour
Political/civic:
– (non)involvement in the political process
(elections and other activities)
– (non)membership of political groups (parties)
and their activities
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536
form of social capital in post-communist countries2
but with little bridging capital
between the higher and the lower social strata. At the same time lower level of
trust in institutions and general trust was evidenced there [see Rose, Mishler and
Haerpfner 1998; Rose 2001]3
. Raiser et al. [2002] maintain that in contrast to developed
democracies, the strong reliance on friends (informal social capital) does not
lead to higher civic participation (formal social capital) in post-communist societies,
which means that the pattern of social capital formation is different. Wallace
and Pichler [2007] recently distinguished four ‘social capital regimes’: one of these
patterns is the East-Central/Baltic/Balkan pattern, where informal social capital
clearly substitutes formal social capital. This contrasts with the other regimes (for
example, in the Nordic regime the relationship is complementary, while no very
strong link was found in Western Europe or the Southern regime).
The way in which different patterns of social capital are formed is believed
to be embedded in the cultural context and influenced by path dependency.
Howard [2002], for example, explains the weak civil society in post-communist
societies by three main factors: the history of mistrust of communist organisations,
the continued existence of friendship networks and close circles of trusted
friends and family that were developed under communist times and even during
the transition period, and a certain post-communist disappointment arising from
the citizens’ sense of having been let down or cheated by the new system.4
The economic dimension of social exclusion and social capital
We assume that there is a tight bond among all the three considered dimensions/
concepts: the economic dimension of social exclusion, its social dimension and
social capital (though we cannot determine the direction of causal influence); see
Figure 2.
Nevertheless, the individual constituent parts and forms of these concepts/
dimensions need to be distinguished, as some are more closely related to each
other than others. For instance, both constituent parts of the economic dimension
of social exclusion (labour market marginalisation and material deprivation)
are probably very closely related. Conversely, various forms of social capital (informal,
formal, institutional, and normative) are not necessarily tightly interdependent
and mutually reinforcing, they can substitute or even counteract/offset
one another. This can then have implications for the process of social inclusion
2
For example, in Russia the climate of distrust of institutions and fear of being oppressed
by institutions, along with the lacking insfrastructure, play a role in the reliance on close
networks [Rose 1995].
3
Based on data from the New Europe Barometer Survey.
4
Matějů and Vitásková [2006] discuss the negative consequences of the missing social
capital in the form of generalised or institutional trust accompanied by a prevalence of
informal networks for the process of market transformation and growth.
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
537
and its outcomes. How do the specific forms of social capital and their configurations
and combinations relate to social inclusion of economically (and socially)
excluded people?
It can be assumed that the social inclusion of people facing the economic
dimension of social exclusion, that is, material deprivation and/or exclusion from
the labour market, will require far more than just the integration with the help
of the bonding social capital represented by informal networks. This is because
people prefer to rely on informal social networks, but the function of these networks
as a resource is weaker in the case of unemployed, low-skilled, low-status
people. In this case, the linkage dimension will also be especially important, as it
involves integration into society at large, including access to the institutions that
determine life chances and the exercise of civil, political and social rights.
Many factors can come into play in this respect. Access to the institutions of
the welfare state (for example, in the form of universal entitlements granted by the
welfare state) can be of key importance for creating trust in institutions and general
social trust, as argued for instance by Rothstein [2001]. However, contrary to
this assumption, people facing the economic dimension of exclusion must largely
rely on schemes of social assistance based on means-testing or are even subjected
to various practices of workfare. Such arrangements of the welfare state are generally
considered stigmatising and seen to undermine social solidarity [Baldwin
1990] or generate socially antagonistic interests [Esping-Andersen 1990]. They
also in large measure lead to the non-take-up of social rights [van Oorschot 1994].
All this destroys social capital at the level of access to and trust in institutions, and
eventually also at the level of general trust in fellow citizens. Van Oorschot and
Arts [2004] provide evidence (at the country level) that welfare state expenditure
is positively correlated with overall social capital, but there is no correlation with
informal solidarity, and therefore, they reject the ‘substitution’ (‘crowding out’)
hypothesis.5
By contrast, Vanhuysse [2006] has reconfirmed that the welfare state
5
The substitution hypothesis suggests that the solidarity organised (and enforced) by the
welfare state is crowding out informal solidarity.
Figure 2. Relations among economic exclusion/inclusion, social capital
and social exclusion/inclusion
Economic exclusion/inclusion
Social exclusion/inclusionSocial capital
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538
destroys social capital: in spite of the increase in poverty, unemployment and social
inequalities, the transition from communism to market democracy proceeded
peacefully in Central Europe, including the Czech Republic, thanks to the deliberate
use the political elites made of social policies designed to prevent massive
job losses and/or to isolate highly aggrieved groups of workers in precarious jobs
by breaking their social networks and undermining their potential for collective
action in the form of strikes (particularly by using early retirement and disability
schemes or by tolerating the grey economy). We would argue that it was not the
general influence of the welfare state at work but rather a specific model of targeted
income- and means-tested or group-specific policies.
Data and methodology
In order to explore in greater depth the question of whether social participation
and the various forms of social capital are associated with the various forms of
economic exclusion, this analysis draws on data from the survey ‘Social Exclusion
and Social Policy’, conducted at the end of 2004 and the start of 2005. The sampling
unit was an individual showing signs of income disadvantage (though the
survey also included questions about selected characteristics of the respondent’s
household). This was a special kind of sample, in that it was homogenous along
one dimension of economic exclusion (income disadvantage), allowing us to explore
more in depth how strongly this dimension of economic exclusion is associated
with other dimensions of economic and social exclusion and how strongly
the various forms of social capital influence these dimensions.
The sample contained 2225 individuals of working age (students and pensioners
excluded) who either i) stated that they had received social assistance
benefits in the course of 2004 owing to insufficient earnings, or ii) stated that they
had considered claiming benefits at some point during 2004, since they had subjectively
perceived their income situation as comparable (that is as equally difficult)
to that of benefits recipients. This latter category of respondents accounted
for about one-third of the survey sample.6
6
The reason for covering the sub-group of respondents who do not exhibit ‘objective’
evidence of income disadvantage (do not receive repeated social assistance benefits) but
rather ‘subjective’ evidence of it (they perceive their situation to be similar to that of benefits
recipients) was to avoid the Type I selection error noted by Halleröd [1995], that is, the
error of relying purely on the ‘objective’ criterion of poverty. There exists circumstantial
evidence in the Czech Republic suggesting the non-take-up of benefits to which potential
recipients are legitimately entitled (occurring alongside benefits over-use), and the
extent of such non-take-up is not negligible [Mareš 2001]. Therefore, it would be a weighty
omission if we limited ourselves merely to benefits recipients. This presumption about the
existence of the category of poor people, who, despite being entitled to social benefits, do
not receive them, was verified in the course of the research. All other factors aside, it is
evidenced by the fact that average income per head (calculated on the basis of the so-called
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
539
The sample can thus be described as a purposive quota type sample constructed
so as to sufficiently represent the main types of respondents according
to sex, age and the type of household they live in, in order to enable comparisons,
and therefore, it does not correspond to the structure of the overall population of
the income disadvantaged. At the time of research around 5–6% of the economically
active population was identified as social assistance benefits claimants, 60%
of which were unemployed.7
The quotas for this sample were defined from an
analysis of the structure of recipients of social assistance benefits [Sirovátka et
al. 2005] in order to capture the main ‘types’ of income disadvantaged people as
identified in this analysis: about 30% are people under the age of 25, about 50%
are people aged 25–45, and about 20% are people over the age of 45; equal shares
of men and women (50% each), and roughly equal shares of respondents living in
households with no children, two-parent households with a child/children, and
single-parent households with a child/children (about one-third each).8
The economic dimension of social exclusion is measured in this study in
terms of marginalisation in the labour market, income disadvantage, and material
deprivation. To identify marginalisation in the labour market we used repeated
and long-term unemployment (for more than twelve months). The analysis of
material deprivation builds on the neutral term ‘income disadvantage’, which (as
has already been mentioned) encompasses both an objective and subjective indication.
Income was analysed on the basis of the declared incomes in the respondents’
households and calculated per capital household income using the Eurostat
[2000] equivalence scale: the respondent’s weight 1.0, the weight of other adults
in the household 0.5, and the weight of children 0.3. Then material deprivation
was analysed as a multidimensional phenomenon and studied its individual constituent
parts: income deprivation, the deprivation of basic needs (food, clothing,
and vacations), deprivation related to household utilities, and housing conditions.
These indicators are rather well-established and broadly used to measure
the scope and structure of poverty, the nature of material deprivation and social
exclusion, and have been assessed by experts as relevant for international comparison
[Eurostat 2000]. In addition to these primary indicators of deprivation
standardly used by Eurostat to monitor poverty and social exclusion, we recorded
other indicators of deprivation that we regard as ‘supplementary’ in the sense
equivalence scale) in the category of benefits recipients was in fact comparable to that in
the category denoted as merely ‘subjective’ income-disadvantaged people (Czk 4700 and
4830, respectively).
7
The authors’ analysis based on statistics provided by the Ministry of Labour and Social
Affairs.
8
The set quotas roughly respect the age structure of income-disadvantaged people in
the entire population, but – for the sake of meeting the numbers of respondents in the
analysed type groups – they over-represent respondents in two-parent households with
children (the share of which among income-deprived people is in reality no more than
20%), and, conversely, under-represent individuals (who account for over one-half of benefits
recipients in reality).
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540
that they extend beyond basic life necessities and material deprivation. They are
nonetheless important, as they indicate access to life chances, capabilities [Sen
1992], and thus the possibilities of functioning in a certain social structure. The
specific concern in this case is the possibility people have to shape the conditions
of their own lives and exercise control over their own personal development, future,
and the future of their children. It is these circumstances that correspond
with the established definition of social exclusion, such as deprivation in terms
of access to the institutions that determine life chances, the possibility to live up
to the mainstream standard of life, and the opportunity to participate in various
areas of social life [Room 1995; Atkinson 1998; Atkinson et al. 2002]. To be even
more specific, it is about the ability to get a mortgage and to have health, accident,
or supplementary pension insurance, and about being able to send one’s children
to college or to pursue one’s own cultural interests, and so on.
The overall degree of material deprivation and social exclusion was measured
through the use of aggregated indicators: we used a cumulative index
constructed from a set of twelve selected items that had the best result in the
reliability test out of all possibilities that we tested. While the index included
items based on ‘supplementary’ but, from the perspective of the social exclusion
concept, significant indicators, it also retained those items relating to material
deprivation that have traditionally been considered of key relevance. The value of
the cumulative indexes indicates the percentage of items where the respondent is
significantly (heavily) deprived out of the total number of items in the index (the
values thus range from 0 to 100).
In conformity with Figure 1 the following items are used to measure social
capital and social participation:
– the frequency of interpersonal contact with friends, in order to identify the
importance of informal social networks;
– a cumulative index of membership of voluntary associations in the non-governmental
sector, in order to identify the importance of formal social networks
(five items – membership of organisations such as interest or sports groups,
or public benefit organisations, or mutual benefit associations and civic initiatives,
or parental associations and youth clubs, and membership in unions);9
– in order to indicate social capital at the institutional level, trust in institutions is
monitored (indicated by dis/agreement with the statement: ‘There’s no point
in turning to institutions, because they are not much interested in the problems
of the ordinary person’);
– the item used to indicate social participation at the level of access to institutions
was: ‘The likelihood that our social assistance claims will be rejected is high’;10
9
These indications can be interpreted both as proxies for social capital and social participation
(inclusion).
10
Materially deprived persons find this aspect of access to institutions as possibly being
of the greatest significance.
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
541
– the time used to indicate the level of general social trust and respect for norms
as a form of social capital was: ‘Nowadays a person cannot tell on whom to
rely.’
While the operationalisation of these items may be open to discussion, we
set out from the view that the items need to be understood more as proxies. Given
the scope of the questionnaire, we could not, for example, analyse in more detail
social capital and social participation at the level of various types of formal and
informal networks. However, this is not a fundamental problem in light of the
above-mentioned overlap between both concepts.
The findings on economic exclusion and social capital in the Czech Republic
The economic dimension of social exclusion
The economic dimension of social exclusion evidently deserves attention in the
Czech Republic. The percentage of socially excluded people and households
seems relatively low in the Czech Republic [Večerník 2004; Mareš 2006; Sirovátka
and Mareš 2006] and the other ‘primary indicators’ of social exclusion adopted
by the EU are also mostly rather low [European Commission 2007], but the unemployment
rate of young people is above average, and the proportion of longterm
unemployed is high. However, if the at-risk-of-poverty rate measured by
Eurostat standards was 10% in 2005, this had a disproportionate effect on specific
groups, like the unemployed, single-parent families with children, families with
three or more children, and children in general: their at-risk-of-poverty rate was
51%, 41%, 24% and 18%, respectively [ČSÚ 2007].
Generally speaking, a relatively decent degree of consistency can be observed
between the two key dimensions of economic exclusion: marginalisation
in the labour market and indicators of income disadvantage and material deprivation.
A cardinal characteristic of income-disadvantaged people (which applies
to practically all the respondents in the sample) is usually some form of marginalisation
in the labour market resulting from:
a) the type of current or previous employment: if employed at all, then in
just 56% of cases people were employed on the basis of indefinite employment
contracts, and in 7% of cases they worked on a self-employed basis, while the
remainder had fixed-term employment or occasional work without an employment
contract;
b) repeated bouts of unemployment: not only were over one-third of the
people/sample unemployed, but most of the unemployed were unemployed in
the long term or repeatedly.
c) hidden unemployment: about 11% of the unemployed in the sample were
not registered as unemployed; it was possible to identify another 12% of the unemployed
who could be referred to as ‘discouraged’ (they would accept a job but
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542
do not actively search for one), most typically owing to a lack of belief in the idea
that they might find one.
d) in households of income-disadvantaged people unemployment tends to
accumulate: one-quarter of those living in two-person households had current or
previous experience of parallel unemployment.
The differences in income by position in the labour market observed in the
sample were rather modest, since income, in the case of unemployed people, is
supplemented with social benefits to the level of the subsistence minimum. Nevertheless,
we found that (even short-term) employment does alleviate benefits
dependency among income-disadvantaged people: 69% (60%) of those with a
permanent (temporary) job were not dependent on welfare, while among the unemployed
the figure was only about one-fourth (Eta = 0.395, sign.= .000). Moreover,
employees with a permanent job less often than unemployed or inactive
persons faced subjective income deprivation (13% compared to one-third)11
or
overall material deprivation (31% compared to 46%). Conversely, the situation of
temporary workers was only a little better than the situation of the unemployed
(42% were deprived).12
It is precisely the above areas that indicate the possibility of being able to
live up to the ‘majority life style’ and to some extent also the possibility to deter-
11
Eta = 0.290, sign.= .000
12
Eta = 0.228, sign.= .000
Table 1. Supplementary indicators of material deprivation - by position
of the respondent’s family members in the labour market (in%)
Respondent (or one of the
respondent’s family members):
Total
Hous.
of fully
empl.
Hous. of
partially
empl.
Hous. of
unempl.
CC
(sign. .000)
Has a mortgage 25.6 32.6 31.5 14.5 .194
Has supplementary pension
insurance
17.5 24.6 17.4 9.8 .174
Has health/accident insurance 37.9 47.3 45.0 23.0 .229
Has the choice of sending
children to college (provided
they have children)
52.5 61.3 61.0 33.7 .249
Has the choice of going out to see
a concert, a theatre performance,
etc., at least once a month
40.1 48.3 40.0 31.0 .154
Note: The questions were: ‘Do you or anyone in the family have…?’
‘Partially employed’ households – one of the partners is working.
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
543
mine one’s own destiny or the destiny of one’s children, where material deprivation
faced by income-disadvantaged people is relatively strong and at the same
time differentiated according to their position in the labour market – more so
than in the case of some other indicators of material deprivation (see Table 1).
The situation of respondents living in unemployed households, in comparison
with those who live in fully or partially employed households (with the latter
two types not being significantly different from each other in this regard), is
clearly marked by limited possibilities to pursue cultural interests or send children
to college (only about one-third of these households declared having such
possibilities). Similarly poor is their participation in supplementary pension insurance
and the use of mortgage schemes (10% to 15%). In view of this, it is obvious
that employment and related income provides the households with some
security and disposable income, which they can use with greater confidence at
their own discretion and do some financial planning. This can then in fact be
considered a part of sharing the mainstream life style. We could therefore regard
participation in the labour market as a certain kind of both economic and social
capital, because it both guarantees a clear social status and facilitates the ability
of people to influence their own destiny and the destiny of their family and to
participate in the mainstream life style.
The economic dimension of social exclusion – and social capital
When we review the relationship of various dimensions of social exclusion and
social capital to the position of income-disadvantaged people in the labour market
and their subjective income and material deprivation, we find that while the
sociability of income-disadvantaged people in informal or voluntary formal networks
is not, generally speaking, too low, the subjective indicators point in most
cases to poorer access to social entitlements, in two-thirds of cases to distrust of
institutions, in three-quarters of cases to general distrust, and (in 28% of cases) to
a decreased interest in going to the polls; see Table 2.
Using Woolcock’s typology we would arrive at only 9.2% of respondents
who are not integrated in social networks (they are in contact with friends less
frequently than once a month and are not members of any voluntary organisation,
and are without a more general social linkage, indicated by a lack of trust in
either institutions or more generally in other people), and at 5.2% of respondents
who are not integrated in social networks but have some general social linkage
(i.e. trust). Finally, we find that half of the respondents (48.9%) are integrated in
social networks but lack a more general social linkage (trust), and 36.9% are integrated
in social networks and have some social linkage. This finding is of crucial
importance in that it confirms the high proportion of the excluded in the economic
dimension who have tight relationships with their close circles of friends and
family, yet are at the same time exposed to social isolation in the wider society
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544
and face a lack of trust from people and institutions. Second, what is surprising
is that about one-third of economically deprived people posess both dimensions
of social capital.
This pattern does not significantly vary in the case of the position in the
labour market or the level of income or material deprivation, characteristics such
as a worsened position in the labour market and a greater degree of income and
material deprivation are associated with only a mild worsening of indications of
social capital, and that particularly in terms of the frequency of informal contacts,
partially also in terms of involvement in voluntary formal networks and participation
in elections; on the other hand, indicators of trust in and access to institutions
(social entitlements) and general trust remain constantly low, or possibly
worsen only slightly in dependence on the worsening of objective indications.
This finding for this specific population is consistent in general terms with the
finding by Matějů and Vitásková [2006] for a representative sample of the populaTable
2. The social capital linked to a person’s position in the labour market and
material deprivation (ETA coef. and contingency coefficient, significance)
Frequency
in%
Position in the
labour market
(Eta)
Does not have
great difficulties
making ends
meet (CC)
Index of material
deprivation
below median
value (CC)
Frequency of contact with
friends (on almost a daily
basis, more than once
a month, less than once
a month)
19.5
62.9
17.6
.127
(.000)
.137
(.000)
.146
(.000)
Membership in voluntary
organisations (yes, no)
24.1
75.9
.154
(.000)
.116
(.000)
.092
(.000)
Probability of social
assistance claims being
rejected (is not high, is high)
55.0
45.0
n.sign. .070
(.003)
.093
(.000)
Distrust of institutions
(no, yes)
33.4
66.6
.064
(.000)
.086
(.000)
.093
(.000)
Distrust of people
in general (no, yes)
76.6
23.4
n.sign. .072
(.001)
.074
(.000)
Interest in going to the polls
(yes, don’t know-no)
28.2
81.8
.097
(.000)
.075
(.000)
.120
(.000)
Chances of poor people to
escape poverty (yes-at least
a small chance, no chance)
69.1
30.9
.106
(.000)
.265
(.000)
.191
(.000)
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
545
tion. The results in fact confirm the already discussed trade-off between informal
and formal social capital is strong in the Czech Republic, even in the case of the
specific sub-sample of the economically deprived population who are rather rich
in informal capital in terms of frequency of social contacts but show relatively
higher levels of distrust and low participation in formal civic organisations.
If we examine the correlations of aggregate social capital, as measured by
the variable constructed on the basis of Woolcock’s classification, it is possible
to identify a weak correlation with subjective income deprivation (ETA = .149,
sign. = .000) and material deprivation (ETA = .148, sign. = .000), whilst correlation
with the position in the labour market is insignificant. The analysis also included
one supplementary item that expresses a subjective reflection of the overall degree
of inclusiveness of society, or more specifically, a subjective assessment of
the chances of poor people to escape poverty. This can be considered the most
general (aggregate) characteristic of the importance of social capital in relation
to the life chances of the income-disadvantaged. As can be seen, this aggregate
characteristic correlates only mildly with the respondents’ position in the labour
market, but moderately strongly with their overall material deprivation, and it
correlates strongly with their subjective assessment of their income situation.
The dimensions of social capital and their significance for economic inclusion
The association between the three aforementioned forms of social capital at the
individual level is relatively weak. Only with respect to the dimension of trust
was a moderately strong association found between trust in institutions and general
trust in other people (ETA= .333, sign. .000). Similarly, trust in institutions is
moderately strongly associated with the subjective perception of access to institutions
that guarantee social entitlements (operationalised as the probability of
benefits claims being rejected) (ETA= .227, sign. .000). The hypothesis about the
mutual independence of various forms of social capital is thus confirmed.
The perception of the overall inclusiveness of society, as measured by the
assessment of poor people’s chances to escape poverty, shows between a weak or
moderately strong association with all the three dimensions of social capital and
with the institutional dimension of social exclusion (access to social entitlements),
the strongest being the association with trust in and access to institutions, but at
the same time also the frequency of informal contacts (ETA= .153, sign. .000). All
the three forms of social capital considered clearly have some relevance for assessing
the life chances of income disadvantaged people to escape their income disadvantage.
This is also apparent from the association of this variable with the overall
proxy of social capital constructed according to Woolcock’s typology, which is
greater than the association with its individual forms (ETA= .224, sign. = .000).
Therefore, we next examine the importance of individual forms of social
capital – in comparison with individual characteristics of income-disadvantaged
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546
Table 3. Logistic regression – the ratio of probability that the respondent:
a) is employed
b) is facing above-average material deprivation (index value is above median value)
c) sees certain chances of the poor to escape poverty
Is employed
Is materially
deprived
The poor have
chances to escape
poverty
Exp (B) sign. Exp (B) sign. Exp (B) sign.
Contact with friends:
Almost on a daily basis ,671 ,004 ,336 ,000 1,773 ,000
More often than once a
month
1,032 ,773 ,557 ,000 2,583 ,001
Less often than once
a month
Ref. Ref. Ref.
Member of a voluntary
organisation
1,972 ,000 X 1,627 ,000
Not a member of a voluntary
organisation
Ref. X Ref.
Probability of social
benefits claims being
rejected is seen as high
x 1,574 ,000 ,634 ,000
Is not seen as high x Ref. Ref.
Distrusts institutions 1,311 ,003 X ,566 ,000
Does not distrust
institutions
Ref. X Ref.
Distrusts people
in general
x 1,522 ,001 x
Does not distrust people
in general
X Ref. x
Elementary education ,364 ,000 8,866 ,000 1,029 ,875
Lower secondary educ. 1,045 ,703 3,711 ,000 2,010 ,000
Complete second. educ. 1,064 ,642 2,346 ,000 2,720 ,000
University education Ref. Ref. Ref.
Has health problems x 1,462 ,003 x
Does not have health
problems
x Ref. x
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people, particularly their human capital – both for economic exclusion/inclusion
(i.e. position in the labour market, and material deprivation), and for subjective
chances of social inclusion in general.
Social and human capital variables best explain the differences in the degree
of overall material deprivation, and to some extent also the respondents’
assessment of poor people’s chances to escape poverty (inclusiveness of society),
although the actual financial situation can in fact be very similar (see Table 3).
However, they are less relevant for explaining employment chances (see the
Nagelkerke R Square figures in the models above).
Access to employment for income-disadvantaged people is significantly
lower in the case of people with elementary education (as opposed to people
with a university degree), though differences in relation to other educational
categories are insignificant. The effect of both human capital and social capital
on the employment of income-disadvantaged people is equally ambiguous. Employment
is, indeed, markedly higher (with chances being twice as high) in connection
with membership in voluntary organisations. However, it is interesting
to see that employment chances are lower in the case of people with nearly daily
contact with friends (as opposed to those who are in touch with friends less often
than once a month)13
, and, conversely, higher in the case of people who distrust
institutions. We could infer from this that weak ties can actually play a greater
role when it comes to finding employment than intensive friendship ties narrowed
down to just the community of close friends. Distrust of institutions can
then act as an incentive to rely more on one’s own assets and make a greater effort
to find gainful employment.
Unlike employment status, material deprivation is strongly inversely associated
with human capital and with informal social ties, general trust in people
and access to institutions, that is, with all forms of social capital. What appears to
have the most pronounced is completed education, and the respondent’s overall
health status also plays a role. The leverage of informal social networks in terms
13
For a similar conclusion on the unemployed, see Gallie, Kostova and Kuchař [2001]. The
authors show that in spite of more frequent informal social contacts, support from these
networks is less helpful than in the case of employed people.
Model summary Model summary Model summary
Chi square 173.028 (7)
sig. .000
767.483 (8)
Sig. .000
381.665 (8)
sig. .000
-2 Log likelihood 2861.570 1776.368 1958.400
Nagelkerke R Square .101 .456 .270
Note: x = was not included in the model (not significant).
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548
of support in the situation of deprivation is considerable (up to threefold differences
in the likelihood of material deprivation), and access to institutions and
general trust play an undeniable role, too. Although a variety of models were
tested, the relevance of membership in formal organisations to the degree of a
respondent’s material deprivation was not clearly proven in an analysis of social
and human capital variables, nor was that of a person’s position in the labour
market, health status or family type.
The assessment of chances of escaping poverty (an assessment of the inclusiveness
of society) is, again, greatly influenced by all three forms of social
capital: the chances of escaping poverty are seen to be as much as twice as high in
the case of people with more frequent contacts with friends (as opposed to those
who have contact with friends less often than once a month), and also in the case
of those who have a better outlook on their possibility to exercise their social entitlements
in relation to the authorities and those who express trust in institutions.
Finally, chances are seen to be almost twice as high in the case of those who are
members of voluntary organisations. The impact of education is somewhat surprising:
people with secondary education (either complete or incomplete) assess
the chances of escaping poverty as being realistic twice as often as people with
a university degree. This contradicts the sharper material deprivation among
people with lower education and the better employment chances of people with
a university degree.14
In sum, in an analysis of the effects of social capital it is proven to have an
important role on material deprivation in particular and also on people’s perceptions
of their overall chances of escaping poverty.15
On the whole, the importance
of social capital is comparable to that of human capital (particularly education,
the effects of which – unlike those of social capital – are in some respects far from
unequivocal).
If all the individual dimensions of social capital are merged into one proxy
for social capital, using a combination of variables relating to integrative formal
or informal networks (ties of friendship and membership in voluntary organisations),
together with variables concerning trust in institutions and general trust
in other people (a more general linkage with society at large), the outcomes of the
analysis are quite similar (see Table 4). The ambiguous effects of social capital (and
to some extent also of human capital) on current employment are reconfirmed.
Conversely, the impact of social capital, as well as human capital, on the level of
material deprivation is strong; what is decisive here are integrative networks and
14
People with a university degree may associate the idea of escaping poverty with higher
aspirations and other visions more than others do. The homogeneity of the sample may
also play a role, given the possible intervention of hidden variable(s). Finally, human capital
in transformation countries is in many cases indicated by outdated and obsolete skills
recognised as formal education, which makes this measure less relevant.
15
In conformity with Gallie, Kostova and Kuchař [2001], Raiser et al. [2002], Wallace and
Pichler [2007], Matějů and Vitásková [2006].
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
549
Table 4. Logistic regression – the ratio of probability that the respondent:
a) is employed
b) is facing above-average material deprivation (index value is above median value)
c) sees certain chances of the poor to escape poverty
by an aggregate indicator of social capital
Is employed Is materially
deprived
The poor have
a chance of
escaping poverty
Exp (B) sign. Exp(B) sign. Exp(B) sign.
Social capital
(aggregately-Woolcock)
Has neither networks,
nor trust
1,312 ,094 4,248 ,000 ,337 ,000
Does not have networks,
but has trust
1,279 ,241 1,842 ,054 ,661 ,099
Has networks, does not
have trust
1,144 ,148 1,168 ,206 ,677 ,001
Has both networks and
trust
Ref. Ref. Ref.
Probability of social
benefits claims being
rejected is seen as high
x x 1,503 ,001 ,700
,001
Is not seen as high x x Ref. Ref.
Elementary education ,380 ,000 5,063 ,000 1,799 ,000
Lower secondary educ. 1,214 ,018 2,335 ,000 3,898 ,000
Complete second. educ. 1,392 ,001 1,565 ,001 5,565 ,000
University education Ref. Ref. Ref.
Has health problems x 1,463 ,003 X
Does not have health
problems
x Ref. X
Model summary Model summary Model summary
Chi square 113,070 (6) 759,044 (8) 324,066 (7)
-2 Log likelihood 2914,597 1768,171 2011,840
Nagelkerke R Square .067 .454 .233
.000 .000 .000
Note: x = was not included in the model (not significant).
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550
to some extent also access to institutions. Similarly significant are the variations
connected with education levels and to some extent also health status. The chances
of escaping poverty decrease with decreasing social capital, while integrative
networks and a more general linkage with society at large are of roughly equal
importance. And again, a role is also played by access to institutions that provide
social assistance to people in poverty. The effects of human capital are obviously
not as strong and unequivocal: people with lower education have less of a chance
of escaping poverty than people with secondary education. However, again, it
is people with a university degree that declare the lowest chances (in contrast to
their lower material deprivation).
Conclusion
Here we have examined the significance of various forms of social capital for
a category of people homogenous in terms of income disadvantage. They differed,
however, in terms of their capacity to participate in mainstream life and in
the corresponding degree of material deprivation. We analysed the relationship
between the economic dimension of social exclusion and individual forms of social
capital and confirmed the assumption that the association among various
forms/dimensions of social capital is not very strong, which means that individual
forms of social capital often play distinct and mutually independent roles.
It was found that employment enables participation in the mainstream lifestyle
and lessens material deprivation, though it had little effect on the level of income
in the sample, which was homogenous in this respect.
A number of analyses have already shown that in post-communist countries
(including the Czech Republic) there is generally a poorer level of trust in institutions
and in other people, along with other, essentially negligible differences in
the individual dimensions of social capital. They have also revealed a lower level
of civic involvement [Raiser et al. 2002; van Oorschot and Arts 2004; Halvorsen
2005; Wallace and Pichler 2007]. Our analysis reaffirmed the findings that informal
social capital is more important in the post-communist Czech Republic
than formal capital, and that the level of formal social participation and trust is
generally low. This was revealed, in an extreme form, in the above analysis of
income-disadvantaged people; in the case of a great many of them, poor access
to institutions is associated with low trust in institutions and in fellow citizens.
This deficiency in some forms of social capital can to some extent be compensated
for by relatively strong networks of friends or, possibly, by involvement in formal
organisations in the civic sector, but, as the data also clearly show, this still leaves
considerable limitations with respect to the advancement of the capabilities necessary
for inclusion in the labour market and related areas.
The role of informal and formal social participation has been proven to be
substantially associated with the degree of material deprivation; with informal
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Tomáš Sirovátka and Petr Mareš: Social Exclusion and Forms of Social Capital
551
networks showing the strongest correlation – more frequent informal contacts
correspond with a lower degree of deprivation. Social capital (as an aggregate of
its individual dimensions) has also a moderately strong effect on the perception
of the chances of overcoming material deprivation, with all of its forms having
some influence (informal networks, involvement in formal organisations, and
trust in institutions and other people). Social capital even seems to have a more
significant and consistent effect than human capital (which may seem somewhat
surprising).
While nearly one-third of income-disadvantaged people are ‘rich’ in both
the formal and informal dimension of social capital, with positive consequences
in terms of alleviation of their material deprivation and increased subjective
chances to escape poverty, about one-half of them are socially isolated in terms of
the dimensions of formal social capital, with inverse negative consequences for
their material deprivation and subjective chances to escape poverty. The effects
of social capital on material deprivation and the subjective chances of escaping
poverty are particularly strong when combined with the effects of human capital.
Informal social networks can at times provide some protection against social
exclusion, when other forms of social capital are lacking. However, they are not a
reliable buffer, since the availability of ‘quality’ social networks is too often limited
in the case of people of lower social status. In the case of the Czech Republic
it is mostly the deficiency of general and institutional trust that prevents effective
social inclusion. A crucial issue appears to be the trustworthiness of public institutions
and the administrative system that delivers befefits to the income disadvantaged
and the other institutions closest to them.
TOMÁŠ SIROVÁTKA is a professor of social policy and social work at the Faculty of Social
Studies, Masaryk University. PETR MAREŠ is a professor of sociology and director of
the Research Institute for Social Reproduction and Integration at the same faculty. They
have both worked on numerous research projects (national and internation) – often in
close cooperation – in the field of unemployment, social exclusion, and social and labour
market policy. They have published on these topics (either independently or together)
many articles, mainly in Sociologický časopis/Czech Sociological Review or in the
other Czech and international journals, and several monographs. Selected recent articles
include: ‘Poverty, Social Exclusion and Social Policy in the Czech Republic, Social
Policy and Administration’, ‘Poverty, Material Deprivation and Social Exclusion: The
Unemployed and Working Poor (in Czech), and ‘Social Exclusion and Social Inclusion
– Concepts, Discourse, Agenda’ (in Czech).
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Appendix:
A list of items indicating material deprivation
Index (12 selected items)
alpha = .7423
F =505,8052
(prob. 0000)
Financial deprivation
– makes ends meet with great difficulties
– finds it difficult to pay rent, bills
Deprivation of basic needs
– does not eat meat, chicken, fish every other day
– cannot buy new clothes
– cannot afford a week on vacation away from home
– cannot afford sufficient heating at home
– cannot afford to send children to college
– cannot afford to go to a concert or the theatre or eat out once a week
Housing deprivation
– insufficient space
– damp housing
Deprivation related to the possession of durable consumables
– does not have a telephone
– does not have a car
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2 Social Innovation as a Practical Inclusive Tool
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2.1 Social innovation, a new path
108
Social Innovation
A Decade of Changes
A BEPA report
August 2014
Acknowledgements
This report owes much to the personal commitment, knowledge and thoughts of Agnès
Hubert, Maria da Graça Carvalho and Pierre Goudin of the Bureau of European Policy
Advisers, with the support and input of Baudouin Regout, under the supervision of JeanClaude
Thébault and Maria Angeles Benitez Salas.
A number of European Commission officials from various policy departments also contributed
to this report, in particular all the members of the interservice group on social
innovation.
BEPA would like to thank all the participating services for their very useful work and
comments, especially reflected in part II of the report, namely DG AGRI, COMM, CONNECT,
EAC, ECHO, EMPL, ENER, ENTR, HR, MARKT, MOVE, REGIO, RTD, SANCO and TAXUD.
Extracts from reports produced or commissioned by the European Commission have
also been used in various chapters or sections of the report and are typically acknowledged
in footnotes mentioning the relevant references and internet links.
BEPA would also like to thank Sid-Ahmed Talbi and Carmen Tresguerres for their help.
Finally, we are very grateful to Aurélie Therace for her graphical and publishing support
in producing the report.
Disclaimer
The analysis contained in this report does not necessarily reflect the views of the European
Commission.
Table of contents
Acknowledgements...........................................................................................................................2
Introduction...........................................................................................................................................8
PART I
Social innovation, a new path..................................................................................................11
1. Social innovation as a driver for change..........................................................13
1.1. An evolving context.......................................................................................................14
1.2. The social market economy concept .................................................................17
1.2.1. The origins of the concept........................................................................................17
1.2.2. The social market economy in the European arena...................................18
1.2.3. A new strategy for the Single Market ...............................................................18
1.3. Ecosystems for social innovation..........................................................................20
1.3.1. An approach to the concept of ecosystem......................................................20
1.3.2. Main components of an ecosystem for social innovation......................21
1.3.3. Examples of ecosystems for social innovation.............................................22
1.4. Measurement of social impact...............................................................................23
1.4.1. Evidence-based policies.............................................................................................25
1.4.2. Funding/financing social innovation....................................................................26
1.4.3. Indicators for a socially innovative society.....................................................28
2. Leading by example: how public sector innovation supports
social innovation............................................................................................................31
2.1. The Commission’s commitment to supporting public
sector innovation............................................................................................................31
2.2. Powering European public sector innovation: towards a new
architecture.......................................................................................................................32
3. Achievements and lessons learned.....................................................................35
3.1. Deepening our understanding and knowledge of social
innovation .........................................................................................................................36
3.1.1. The Mapping study........................................................................................................36
3.1.2. Social innovation research in the European Union.....................................37
3.2. Instruments to improve the ecosystem............................................................37
3.2.1. The social economy......................................................................................................37
3.2.2. Microfinance......................................................................................................................39
3.2.3. Incubation..........................................................................................................................41
4 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.2.4. Workplace innovation..................................................................................................41
3.2.5. Changes in governance..............................................................................................42
3.3. Specific examples of actions from the field...................................................42
3.3.1. Social inclusion................................................................................................................43
3.3.2. Migration............................................................................................................................43
3.3.3. Urban regeneration.......................................................................................................44
3.3.4. Health and ageing.........................................................................................................45
3.3.5. Social innovation and the environment.............................................................46
3.3.6. Regional strategies.......................................................................................................47
3.3.7. Lessons learned from social innovation achievements...........................48
3.4. Social entrepreneurship to revive the social economy.............................49
4. Conclusion: scanning the future to shape the future................................51
Europe’s Societal Challenges...................................................................................52
So what future for Europe and which solutions? .........................................53
What will social enterprise look like in Europe by 2020?.........................54
The way forward.............................................................................................................55
Improve governance in relation to social innovation..................................55
Focus on knowledge.....................................................................................................56
Support, encourage and improve the business environment.................56
PART II
Main developments in EU policies.........................................................................................57
Executive summary.......................................................................................................................58
1. The Dominant Policy Framework 2010-20: smart, sustainable
and inclusive Growth...................................................................................................59
1.1. Europe 2020 flagship initiatives............................................................................60
1.1.1. A resource-efficient Europe......................................................................................61
1.1.2. An industrial policy for the globalisation era.................................................61
1.1.3. Digital Agenda for Europe .......................................................................................62
1.1.4. Innovation Union............................................................................................................63
1.1.5. Youth on the Move........................................................................................................64
1.1.6. The agenda for new skills and jobs.....................................................................65
1.1.7. The European Platform against Poverty and Social Exclusion.............66
1.2. Consolidating the Single Market: Single Market Acts
and the Social Business Initiative .......................................................................67
5T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S
1.3. The environment and resource efficiency.........................................................69
a. Making energy an integral part of governance
and management...................................................................................................69
b. Empowering the consumer................................................................................70
c. The emergence of the energy-literate prosumer..................................71
d. Social lessons from Energy technology demonstration....................71
1.4. A new approach to social policy: the Social Investment
Package (SIP)....................................................................................................................71
2. Main programmes, action plans and supporting schemes.....................75
2.1. European Structural and Investment Funds (ESIF).....................................76
2.1.1. European Social Fund..................................................................................................77
2.1.2. European Regional Development Fund (ERDF).............................................78
2.1.3. The European Agricultural Fund for Rural Development (EAFRD)......79
2.2. Horizon 2020: coupling research to innovation............................................81
2.3. The Programme for Employment and Social Innovation EaSI
(2014-20) to follow the PROGRESS programme.........................................82
a. Social innovation and social policy experimentation
supported through the PROGRESS programme.....................................82
b. Targeted support to social policy innovation projects through
direct funding through the EaSI programme...........................................83
c. The Programme for Employment and Social
Innovation (EaSI)......................................................................................................84
2.4. Other programmes and action plans ................................................................85
2.4.1 The COSME programme: the competitiveness of SMEs............................85
2.4.2. Erasmus for Young Entrepreneurs programme ...........................................85
2.4.3. The Erasmus+ programme for education,
training, youth and sport (2014-20)..................................................................86
2.4.4. The new Creative Europe Programme (2014-20) .....................................87
2.4.5. Innovation for a Sustainable Future – The Eco-innovation
Action Plan (EcoAP)......................................................................................................87
3. Initiatives and instruments.......................................................................................89
3.1. Governance and coordination.................................................................................89
3.1.1. Social innovation debate with policymakers..................................................90
3.1.2. Powering public sector innovation........................................................................92
3.1.3. Policy guidance on social innovation..................................................................93
3.1.4. New practices for making policy...........................................................................94
3.1.4.1. Expert groups and networks....................................................................................95
6 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.1.4.2. European Innovation Partnerships.......................................................................96
a. The European Innovation Partnership on Active and Healthy
Ageing (EIP-AHA).....................................................................................................96
b. The European Innovation Partnership on Agricultural
Productivity and Sustainability (EIP-AGRI)................................................97
c. The European Innovation Partnership on Water.....................................97
d. The European Innovation Partnership on Raw Materials .................98
e. The European Innovation Partnership on Smart Cities.......................98
3.1.4.3. The Open Innovation Strategy and Policy Group.........................................98
3.1.4.4. Living Labs........................................................................................................................99
3.1.4.5. Futurium.............................................................................................................................99
3.1.4.6. Participatory leadership in the European Commission ........................100
3.1.5. Create an optimised regulatory environment.............................................100
3.1.5.1. Simplification of the European Cooperative Regulation.......................100
3.1.5.2. Proposal for a European Foundation...............................................................101
3.1.5.3. Study on the situation of Mutual Societies and their
cross-border activities.............................................................................................102
3.1.5.4. European Statute for other forms of social enterprises
such as non-profit enterprises............................................................................102
3.1.5.5. Reform of public procurement: enhancement of quality in
the award process......................................................................................................103
3.1.5.6. Increasing and including new aid categories in the revision
of the General Block Exemption Regulation for state aid....................104
3.1.5.7. Employee financial participation........................................................................104
3.2. Financing capacities and facilities.....................................................................105
3.2.1. The EaSI programme for social innovation..................................................105
3.2.2. Access to venture capital – The European Venture
Capital Funds............................................................................................................... 105
3.2.3. The European regulatory framework for social investment funds:
the European Union Social Entrepreneurship Funds (EuSEF)............ 105
3.2.4. The development of microcredit/microfinance...........................................106
a. European Progress Microfinance Facility.................................................106
b. European Code of Good Conduct for Microcredit Provision...........107
3.2.5. Crowdfunding for social entrepreneurs..........................................................108
3.2.6. The EIF impact investing scheme .....................................................................109
3.2.7. Dormant funds.............................................................................................................109
3.2.8. Best practice sharing between Member States regarding
the use of capital accumulated in social enterprises
and in particular asset locks................................................................................ 109
7T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S
3.3. Capacity building and recognition.....................................................................110
3.3.1. Recognising social innovators..............................................................................110
3.3.1.1. Mapping of the social enterprises sector, business models,
economic weight, tax regimes, identification of best practices........110
3.3.1.2. Database of labels and certifications of social enterprises...............110
3.3.1.3. Social innovation prizes..........................................................................................111
3.3.2. Networks..........................................................................................................................113
3.3.2.1. Networks of Incubators for Social Innovation............................................113
3.3.2.2. Social Innovation Europe (SIE)............................................................................113
3.3.2.3. The Collective Awareness Platforms initiative (CAPS)...........................115
3.3.2.4. Digital Social Platforms..........................................................................................117
3.3.2.5. Workplace Innovation Network...........................................................................118
3.3.2.6. Multi-stakeholder platform for corporate social responsibility........118
3.3.2.7. Policy innovation design.........................................................................................119
3.3.3. Empowering people...................................................................................................119
3.3.3.1. Skills, training and education...............................................................................120
3.3.3.2. Europe for Citizens Programme.........................................................................122
3.3.3.3. Network of twinned towns ...................................................................................123
3.3.3.4. Contribute to change - Young Women in Political Careers.................123
3.3.3.5. Citizens’ dialogues.....................................................................................................124
3.3.3.6 Other activities..............................................................................................................125
3.4. Research..........................................................................................................................125
3.4.1. ‘Social Sciences and Humanities’ and ‘Science with
and for Society’........................................................................................................... 126
3.4.2. Social innovation in other thematic areas of research ........................128
3.4.3. Digital social innovation..........................................................................................128
3.4.4. Pilot projects in the areas of e-Inclusion, e-Health,
e-Government, e-Learning and mobility....................................................... 129
3.4.5. Research on behaviour ...........................................................................................131
ANNEX I
Examples of participatory projects convened
by the European Commission�����������������������������������������������������������������������������135
ANNEX II
A ‘checklist’ for citizens’ deliberations�����������������������������������������������������������139
8 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
Introduction
In recent years, many initiatives and events have been carried out to develop
pragmatic and participatory solutions to social and environmental
problems that have been made more pressing by the crisis and have been
addressed inadequately or not at all by either the market or the state.
Converging analyses indicate that we are (or should be) on course for economic renewal
and institutional change. A response based on another way to produce value, with less
focus on financial profit and more on real demands or needs is indeed an attractive
premise for reconsidering production and redistribution systems.
In this context, social innovations, which are emerging all over the world, are still small
in scale, but they are being echoed by changes in thinking and are delivering more and
more effective and relevant solutions. The notion has gained ground that social innovation
is not only about responding to pressing social needs and addressing the societal
challenges of climate change, ageing or poverty, but is also a mechanism for achieving
systemic change. It is seen as a way of tackling the underlying causes of social problems
rather than just alleviating the symptoms.
Some recent international reports have analysed and explained the emerging role of
social innovation vis-à-vis economic and societal challenges from different angles:
yy two successive OECD reports1
have largely linked its emergence to rising inequalities.
Furthermore, they argue that the crisis has revealed the weakness of the current
economic system of redistribution;
yy the 2013 International Labour Organisation report2
notes that, in advanced economies,
the challenge is to stimulate job creation while addressing macroeconomic
imbalances; and
yy taking a longer term perspective, the Oxford Martin Commission for Future Generations
has published a report3
on successes and failures in addressing global challenges
over recent decades. The report calls for a radical shake-up in politics and
business to embed long-term thinking and provides practical recommendations for
action in order to create a more resilient, inclusive and sustainable future.
The European Union itself has reacted promptly to this evolution. A number of policy
measures, such as pilot programmes funded by the Structural Funds, have been initiated
to empower various actors to address collaboratively the needs of their community.4
1	Growing unequal?, 2008;
http://www.oecd.org/social/soc/growingunequalincomedistributionandpovertyinoecdcountries.htm
and Divided we stand, 2011; http://www.oecd.org/els/soc/dividedwestandwhyinequalitykeepsrising.htm.
2	Repairing the economic and social fabric (ILO, World of work report 2013).
3	Now for the Long Term, 2013;
http://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/downloads/commission/Oxford_Martin_Now_for_the_Long_Term.pdf.
4	Local Employment Initiatives, EQUAL, LEADER, URBAN, …; see in this respect the 25 year anniversary of AIEDL;
http://www.aeidl.eu/en.html.
9P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
In 2009, the Bureau of European Policy Advisers (BEPA) organised a workshop5
with
experts, civil society organisations, policymakers and social innovators. Following this
workshop, President Barroso asked BEPA to investigate the definition and raison d’être
of social innovation, document the Commission’s involvement in this field, identify the
barriers to its development and suggest avenues for improvement. At that time, research
on this topic had been mainly empirical and the first BEPA report, published
in 2010, leveraged examples from the field in order to illustrate the emergence of
the social innovation movement and contribute a light conceptual framework with a
broad definition of social innovations, which underlined its collaborative process and
outcome-oriented nature.6
Within a few years, policy support for social innovation has moved towards the centre of
the political agenda. Inside the European Commission, the number of services involved
has grown and a ‘social innovation’ culture has spread in support of the Europe 2020
Strategy and its implementation.
Some of these services have developed strong legal and institutional mechanisms aimed
primarily at supporting social innovation. This is the case for the internal market services,
where the Social Business Initiative (SBI) is supported by a permanent stakeholders
group (GECES) and a list of 11 actions to be followed up. This initiative has given birth to
many projects and achievements, among which the ‘Strasbourg event’ of January 2014
(cf. Part I, § 3.4) was a hallmark.
In other policy areas, some services upgraded the policy relevance of social innovation:
yy Transport and mobility are now viewed as areas of potential for innovation with a
strong social impact. Indeed, these areas use new working methods (such as public
taxis for people with disabilities, driven by pensioners) combined with technology
(safety sensors in cars and smartphone-based urban transport planners) and social
innovation to support the uptake of new services (shared electric vehicle fleets and
development of new logistics services);
yy At present, innovation in the humanitarian aid sector is almost exclusively focused
on technological innovations. However, when looking at long-term risk and the development
of prevention and risk reduction, the human factor in social innovation
could be a strong lever. The European Commission’s contribution to the World Humanitarian
Summit in 2016 will concentrate more on social innovation; and
yy The improvement of knowledge on social innovation through research, platforms,
hubs and networks of researchers and transformative tools to open policy perspectives
is increasingly supported in various policy areas such as education and culture,
health and consumption, communication or technology.
The services that have been most involved in this matter from the beginning (Employment
and Social Affairs, Enterprise, Regional Policy, Agriculture, and Research and Innovation)
have substantially increased their contributions.
Finally, even internally, the European Commission increasingly uses participatory training
courses and events for human resources in a more socially innovative way.
5	http://ec.europa.eu/dgs/policy_advisers/activities/conferences_workshops/socinnov_jan-2009_en.htm.
6	http://ec.europa.eu/bepa/pdf/publications_pdf/social_innovation.pdf.
10 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
All these developments – changes in the economic and social context, policy developments,
particularly in the EU, in the social field, the development of new analytical
frameworks – have led BEPA to update the initial report it produced in 2010 with the
active participation of all Commission services, reflecting their increasing involvement in
supporting social innovation.
The first part of the report discusses the general context in which these policies and
programmes have emerged and the developments which they relied upon to grow. It
focuses on relevant changes that have occurred – and are still ongoing – since the publication
of the first BEPA report. The first part starts by presenting social innovation as
a driver for change, before listing some main achievements and lessons learned from a
variety of examples from the field. Finally, it suggests some recommendations for future
policymakers.
The second part of the report presents factually, and as comprehensively as possible,
the leading 2010-20 policy framework, the main programmes and supporting schemes
and the initiatives and instruments established by the Commission to support social
innovation, based on the contributions of participating services.
PART I
Social innovation,
a new path
12 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
In 2009, when for the first time the European Commission organised a
workshop on social innovation, it was an attempt to capture a subject that
was becoming increasingly topical.
Since then, although most of the contextual elements contained in the
first BEPA report have been retained and even expanded, some elements
of the landscape have changed significantly. This part of the report intends
to point out these changes. It first presents social innovation as a
driver for change before focusing on the growing role of the public sector
in overcoming the barriers to social innovation, developing some of the
achievements made and lessons learned in recent years and concluding
with some recommendations to pave the way forward.
1. Social innovation as
a driver for change
The recent dynamic combination of interests, institutions and ideas for
the promotion of social innovation has been embedded in wider political,
technological and economic changes which have affected and will continue
to affect the development of social innovation in the current decade.
A significant change in the policy background has been the closer political attention
paid to redefining the relationship between the social and the economic spheres.7
The
economic concepts of capital and investment have become social policy instruments
and corporate social responsibility is shifting from being a matter of charity to one of
inclusion. This change has been conceptually supported in particular by the revival at EU
level of the concept of the social market economy, which has shaped the recent exercise
to deepen the Single Market and, in so doing, has secured a place for social innovation
at the core of EU policies.
The second change that we have identified as significant for the future is linked to the
production of social innovations. Mobilising people and resources around a novel idea
has never been easy (cf. Henri Dunant creating the Red Cross). This is only the first
step of many.8
Each step entails a process of co-creation which initiates the next one.
Together with the search for a favourable economic, legal, social ‘milieu’ to generate
co-creation, the concept of ecosystems has been borrowed from biology through management
science to describe the environments where social innovations emerge, grow
and thrive. We will explore how this concept can help to defragment mental ‘silos’, work
across boundaries and facilitate the sharing of information and knowledge, and identify
the role and interest of public authorities in enabling social innovation ecosystems.
The third change is related to measurement issues, which have become increasingly
important as social innovation initiatives have mushroomed. Measuring social innovation
should indeed help to achieve some crucial objectives, such as proving that it is an
effective and sustainable way to respond to societal needs or showing that social and
environmental value creation is central to the human and ecological sustainability of
societies.
7	Social innovations, Institutional Change and Economic Performance, edited by T. J. Hamalainen and R.
Heiskala, © Sitra, 2007.
8	See the six different stages for the production of social innovation identified in the first BEPA report, p. 54, or
Ten Practical Steps to Implement Social Innovation in the Guide to Social Innovation.
14 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
1.1. An evolving context
‘We are at the dawn of something new’ – emphatic rhetoric or a description of what
was filling the room? This remark from the podium during the ‘Social entrepreneurs
have your say’ event in January 2014 in Strasbourg illustrates the state of mind of the
hundreds of ‘core actors’ from all over Europe who attended the meeting. They were
not only describing their perceptions but expressing a wish to be part of this ‘something
new’.
From the stakeholders’ workshop held in 2009 with the President of the Commission,
developments in policymaking circles – inside and outside the European Commission –
are palpable. As already explained in the first BEPA social innovation report, the growing
interest in social innovation has come from the continuous and increased need of public
authorities, civil society organisations, private corporations and individuals to respond
to the new social risks with new and more effective approaches and shrinking budgets.
The crisis has enhanced that process. The new participation and sharing ethos of the
social networks generation, as well as the renewed necessity for Europe to develop its
innovation capabilities and the mounting interest in quality of life, are boosting factors.
Since the beginning of the decade, three major developments have emerged.
yy the players have evolved: social players have overcome their first negative reaction
of seeing social innovation only as a partial privatisation of welfare, which is the
state’s responsibility. They have now become active participants in the development
of social innovations at local, national and European levels.9
In all Member States,
representatives of the national and local authorities, social entrepreneurs and social
economy organisations, the banking and finance sector and the academic and university
sector play an active part in the consultative multi-stakeholders group set
up by the Commission in 201210
and large groups of citizens all over the world are
joining what has been called ‘a social innovation movement’.11
Traditional economic
players have also radically changed their vision as the idea that social innovation is
about bringing solutions to some of the complex problems of today is seen as nec-
essary.12
The financial world at large is also taking a strong interest in the sector by
developing ethical investment products, including ‘social and environmental impact
financing’;
yy the institutions are also changing: public authorities, in particular in the social, health
and education fields, are committed both to being innovative inside and promoting
new forms of financing, partnerships and alliances outside in order to improve their
services to users and involve stakeholders; and
yy last but not least, ideas, the third corner of the action triangle, have also developed
and spread. The amount of research, projects, experiments, debates, documents,
books, events produced on social innovation since the beginning of the decade is impressive.
A body of literature now exists to frame the various terminology sets in the
social innovation galaxy, and new research continues to explore definitions but also
9	See social platform position paper on social innovation http://www.socialplatform.org/wp-content/
uploads/2014/02/20131203_SocialPlatform_PositionPaper_social_innovation.pdf.
10	GECES http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/social_business/expert-group/index_en.htm.
11	Unger Mangabeiro, Harvard Law School; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9c3PppXk1w.
12	The Solution Revolution: How business, government and social enterprises are teaming up to solve society’s
toughest problems, William D. Eggers and Paul Macmillan (Harvard Business review press, 2013).
15P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
investment models, development and evaluation methodologies from an empirical
as well as a conceptual perspective and the underpinnings of social innovation.
EU funded research has played a crucial role in this field by funding comparative
research on a large scale, encouraging both academic excellence and the practical
application of results.
We undoubtedly know more now about this ‘volatile’ or ‘quasi’ concept13
of social innovation,
the governance structures and the role of public authorities, the capacity building,
the financing capacities needed to allow social innovations to emerge, grow, scale
up and spread. We know more about how social innovations are useful to local welfare
systems and services and how they contribute to poverty reduction, combating inequalities
and changing lifestyles. We also know more about their conditions for sustainability
and the views of stakeholders. Empirical research has helped to identify where change
is happening and needs to be encouraged. Conceptual research has achieved milestones
in defining and framing what is really at stake. As argued by Geoff Mulgan,14
‘[s]ocial
innovation is an asset to discover the future through action rather than believing it can
be discovered solely through analysis’.
Furthermore, the picture would not be complete if at this point we did not address the
emergence of a phenomenon that significantly affects social innovation: the rise of a
hyperconnected society.
The rise of the collaborative economy – from AirBnB (the social networking service for
bed and breakfast) to car sharing or ‘Code4share’ to ‘Wikipedia’ – is indeed a characteristic
of the recent period which goes beyond just inventing new business models.
Digital social innovation is a new kind of innovation enabled by the network effect of the
internet, which is leading to new models of collaborative production and content sharing
which radically change the competition and supply and demand equations of traditional
business models. On this issue, a study conducted by a consortium of partners15
is currently
building a map of digital social innovation actors and networks.
In this context, there are some challenges for the EU.
yy First, in the reconfiguration of the economy which is currently taking place under
the influence of network giants, how is Europe to take advantage of open and collaborative
possibilities to tackle societal challenges? How is it to leverage the power
of the large number of social networks of active citizens and communities who often
operate under the radar?16
The potential of using digital technologies to enable
better and more social innovation to engage stakeholders, citizens, geeks and civil
society communities in the innovation process cannot be neglected. Considering the
distributed nature of digital social innovation and its openness to new players, research
based on a bottom-up approach reveals new forms of social innovation and
13	This term was coined by Jane Jenson in Social innovation. Gadget, Concept or Mobilising Idea?; www.cccg.
umontreal.ca. It is defined as ‘a hybrid, making use of empirical analysis and thereby deploying scientific
methods, but simultaneously having an indeterminate quality, making it adaptable to a variety of situations
and flexible enough to follow the twists and turns of policy’. ‘It is more than a buzzword, it has a reputable
intellectual basis but may be vulnerable to criticism on theoretical, analytical and empirical grounds’.
14	Quoted in The world in 2025, contributions of an expert group, January 2009, p.69.
15	Study on innovation in the Digital Agenda conducted by Nesta, Waag Society, ESADE, IRI and Future
Everything; http://digitalsocial.eu.
16	See study by IPTS; http://ipts.jrc.ec.europa.eu/publications/pub.cfm?id=4339.
16 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
new organisational forms that can be encouraged, scaled up and incorporated into
institutional frameworks; and
yy secondly, how to set up the best institutional framework for harnessing the networked
collective intelligence of people to tackle major social issues and produce recognised
value for Europe in terms of community wellbeing, ecological footprint, and democratic
legitimacy?17
17	For examples of the impact on democracy, see the 2013 World Forum Rewiring democracy – connecting
institutions and citizens in the digital age. Further information is available at: http://www.epsiplatform.eu/
content/world-forum-democracy#sthash.iqvUpOPH.dpuf.
A public private partnership on decentralised, open, privacy-aware architectures for
the social good (including open data and public federated identity management)
The internet ecosystem currently faces two major and urgent problems:
In 2011 the Commission launched an initiative to pool a range of European funds to promote
evidence-based social innovation, initially concentrating on social assistance schemes. the Commission’s
initiative includes:
•	 a handful of non-European companies continue to consolidate their leading positions in data aggregation and
capture collective intelligence via lock-ins, monopolistic behaviour and aggressive IP litigation. Most users have
accepted their exploitative business models in exchange for free services. This deal not only undermines privacy
and weakens data protection, but also commodifies knowledge, identity, and personal data. Unfortunately, most
European ICT research is developed to fit into this centralised model, which only aggravates the situation; and
•	 the European Commission has been funding excellent basic research on the Internet of Things (IoT) and the
Future Internet area. However, there is no strategic vision guiding EU research. Projects do not give rise to an
alternative playing field since they promote the kind of short-term incremental developments that only reinforce
the dominant positions mentioned above. While Europe has an unrivalled density of infrastructure and research
potential, the lack of overall coherence in its vision contributes to the consolidation of non-European companies.
An alternative framework is needed to provide an open architecture for the integrated management of online identity,
security, data, and collective governance, based on democratic and participatory processes. The only practical
response is the development of distributed and decentralised solutions for future critical infrastructures in the three
main areas set out below:
1.	 Distributed architectures: this includes the need for open data distributed repositories, distributed cloud, distributed
search and distributed social networking. It can also include the development of new mobile platforms able to
ensure some basic services at European level, on top of which a whole new open ecosystem of services and applications
could flourish in a participatory innovation model based on open source and open hardware development;
2.	 Public federated identity management for the entire EU: weave identity management into the EU Digital Infrastructure
by applying a federated model to the entire Union. The agency that public or private providers
have controls which platforms it talks to and the platform determines which services, products or spin-offs are
supported. The aim should be to turn the current passport into an open source mesh-networked device; and
3.	 New governance modalities for big data (main question around collective ownership of data, data portability
and data as knowledge commons): the question is how to ensure user control over personal information in
an ocean of commercially valuable big data. Citizens should be aware that technical solutions do not work by
themselves, therefore legal and commercial solutions have to be based on technology and integrated with the
appropriate policy framework. Defining sensible governance modalities for big data will require substantial
collaboration between the public and private sectors, based on a multi-stakeholder model, in order to define
the minimum level of sensible regulation allowing fair competition in the emerging areas of big data.
17P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
To stimulate thought on this issue, Francesca Bria18
has described how the EU could
take advantage of the shift from closed innovation to collaborative, open innovation. Her
contribution is summarised below.
1.2. The social market economy
concept
1.2.1. The origins of the concept
The term ‘social market economy’ emerged in the post-World War II period, when Germany
was looking for a new economic, political and social start. It is strongly associated
with what has been coined the post-war ‘German economic miracle’. At the time, the
idea was to find a renewed impetus for a laissez-faire market-based economy, rejecting
the centrally planned and state-directed system of the previous period while ensuring a
social and political consensus.
Men like Ludwig Erhard, Alfred Müller-Armack and some of their collaborators coined
the term ‘social market economy’ as a new and comprehensive understanding of a free
market and socially-orientated economic order. It became the hallmark of their political
and social aspirations. It entailed two ideas: first, that a market economy was a better
way to improve living standards; secondly, that the market order can serve the aims of
social security and protection, as long as it is flanked by the right economic and social
policies. In other words, market economics and social security do not exclude each other,
but which comes first? Two different schools of thought gave a different meaning to this
concept. On the one hand, the Ordoliberalism of Eucken, Rüstow and Böhm (also known
as the Freiburg School, to which Hayek could be added) acknowledged that protection
against poverty, unemployment, illness and old age are important as long as they ‘are
not pursued in conflict with the rules of the market’. On the other hand, Müller-Armack
(later secretary-of-state to Ludwig Erhard) and Wilhelm Röpke had stronger views on
the primacy of social aims since they rooted this concept in Christian Democratic ethics.
For historic reasons, most people in Germany strongly supported the concept (and its
somewhat contradictory interpretations) provided it was efficient. The social market
economy was the conceptual framework for the ‘German economic miracle’ and deemed
critical for ensuring economic ‘prosperity for all’ and social justice. As a result of growing
inequalities and the perceived unfairness of the social protection system, however, some
people started to question the efficiency of the iconic model. In 2008, for example, only
31 % of all Germans said they had a ‘good opinion’ of the social market economy, a
figure that had risen to 38 % by the beginning of 2010. While it remains a rallying political
concept, the social market economy and the best ways to balance in the future the
ideals of freedom, social justice and economic growth are now being revisited.19
This short history of the term gives some idea of its heuristic but ambiguous meanings
from its origins to the present. Today the term which ‘blended market capitalism,
strong labour protection and union influence, and a generous welfare state’ does not
18	Senior Project Lead, Innovation Lab, EU Project Coordinator D-CENT - DSI.
19	cf. for instance: http://www.bertelsmann-stiftung.de/cps/rde/xchg/bst_engl/hs.xsl/269.htm.
18 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
fit the current reforms of the welfare state but, as pointed out by The Economist,20
the
‘social market economy’ broadly refers to the study of the different social institutions
underpinning every market economy and it has been used to describe attempts to make
capitalism more caring and to the use of market mechanisms to increase the efficiency
of the social functions of the state.
1.2.2. The social market economy in the European arena
The four freedoms (free circulation of goods, services, capital and people) at the heart of
the EU’s Single Market are commonly seen as economic instruments to favour increased
competition, specialisation and economies of scale, improve the efficiency of the allocation
of resources and drive economic integration within the EU. The question is: should
this driver be geared solely to economic growth or should it serve the goals of social
as well as economic cohesion? On this issue, the debates of the European Convention
for the Future of Europe (2003-05) were heated. The idea of a powerful Single Market
underpinning international competitiveness and the creation of growth and jobs as the
ultimate end of the European Union was rather dominant. After the crisis, the European
social model and its aim of producing wellbeing for all is more often seen as an important
goal of European integration. In contrast with the distinction which appears more
obvious today, the term ‘social market economy’ in the text of the Constitution suited
everyone and was embedded in the Treaty21
as it seemed to opportunely reflect the
views of liberals, Christian Democrats and Social Democrats.22
1.2.3. A new strategy for the Single Market
‘The crisis has induced some critical reconsideration of the functioning of markets. It
has also enhanced concerns about the social dimension. The Treaty of Lisbon, soon to
enter into force, makes it explicit for the first time …that ‘the Union [...] shall work [...] for
a highly competitive social market economy. All this calls for a fresh look at how the
market and the social dimensions of an integrated European economy can be mutually
strengthened.’
This excerpt from the mission letter from the President of the European Commission,
José Manuel Barroso, inviting former Competition Commissioner, Mario Monti, to prepare
a report setting out recommendations for an initiative to relaunch the Single Market
clearly sets the new tone. The existing tensions between market integration and social
objectives are more vividly exposed now that the Lisbon Treaty has formally introduced
the objective of achieving a ‘highly competitive social market economy’. ‘If the market
and the social components do not find an appropriate reconciliation, something has to
give in. Following the crisis, with the declining appetite for the market and the increasing
concern about inequalities, it is by no means clear that it would be the market, i.e. the
20	http://www.economist.com/economics-a-to-z/s#node-21529660.
21	Article 3 of the Treaty on European Union states: ‘The Union shall establish an internal market. It shall work
for the sustainable development of Europe based on balanced economic growth and price stability, a highly
competitive social market economy, aiming at full employment and social progress, and a high level of
protection and improvement of the quality of the environment’.
22	At the time, it was interpreted as a symbolic ideological gain for the European socialists (The European
Convention: bargaining in the Shadow of Rhetoric, Paul Magnette and Kalypso Nicolaidis – published in: West
European Politics, April 2004).
19P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
Single Market, to prevail.’ In his report,23
Professor Monti clearly identified public services
(or services of general economic interest) as being at the centre of social concerns.
This was a window of opportunity to enable bottom-up creativity, particularly in the way
services are delivered and matching the needs of users.
The Monti Report raised the need to reinforce the Single Market through a series of
concrete measures. This was done in a two-stage approach in April 2011 and October
2012.24
It is interesting to note that, whereas the initial impulse to reinforce the social
content of the Single Market had come from a top-down initiative, the idea of developing
‘new emerging business models in which social, ethical or environmental objectives
are pursued alongside financial profit’, submitted for consultation as part of a list of
12 possible initiatives to strengthen neglected aspects of the Single Market, was strongly
supported by the public in the answers to this consultation.
This unanimity should not hide underlying ambiguities in overcoming corporatist approaches
and acquired interests in the sphere of the social economy, and different understandings
in Europe of what constitutes a social enterprise or business. As acknowledged
in an OECD report on social entrepreneurship25
‘[e]ven if social entrepreneurship
as an activity is developing quickly around the world and social innovations are appearing
everywhere, these are both relatively recent fields of research and practice and the
notions are still ill-defined. A term like social entrepreneurship tends to overlap with
terms such as social economy, third sector, non-profit sector, social enterprise and social
entrepreneur, some of which are also ill‑defined and overlapping. Moreover, definitions
are context‑sensitive, in the sense that the geographical and cultural contexts matter’.
For instance, traditions within Europe vary: the German approach differs from the Italian
or British early development of cooperatives or from the successful concept in France of
économie sociale et solidaire, to name just a few of the contexts where social entrepreneurship
linked to social innovations is developing.
Conceptual clarity is needed but cannot be imposed in a top-down approach. It has to be
worked out progressively by actors, who are now speaking to each other, taking the best
from each tradition, while adapting to a new common post-crisis reality.
Following long discussions on definitions during the preparation of the text of the Social
Business Initiative, it was finally agreed that rather than reduce a still‑developing idea
to an overly narrow definition, social entrepreneurship should be defined on the basis of
three main characteristics:
yy the social objective was the reason for developing innovative activities;
yy profits were mainly invested in achieving this social objective; and
yy the organisation and ownership used participatory principles aiming at social justice.
The actual development and content of the SBI are described in detail in the second part
of this document. What must be stressed at this stage is that:
yy social entrepreneurship should be placed in the main ‘engine room’ of European
integration: the Single Market raised social innovation to a new level of recognition,
23	http://ec.europa.eu/bepa/pdf/monti_report_final_10_05_2010_en.pdf.
24	http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/smact/index_en.htm.
25	SMEs, Entrepreneurship and Innovation, contribution of Antonella Noya (OECD, 2010).
20 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
allowing major instruments such as public procurement directives or competition
policy to engage with the development of this ‘emerging’ sector; and
yy the way it has been developed has been participatory26
and all‑encompassing,27
i.e. through a systemic change in approach rather than through incremental changes
in the institutional infrastructure of the business world.
1.3. Ecosystems for social innovation
1.3.1. An approach to the concept of ecosystem
For some time now, management scholars have recognised the parallels between biological
and economic systems. The concept of an ecosystem – which in biology refers to
an environment where different, sometimes competing, species can complement each
other – has been used in particular by Michael Porter,28
who underlined that the traditional
framework of industries made up of competitors, suppliers and customers does
not pay enough attention to the many other actors and environments in an industry: the
organisations making complementary products, the infrastructure on which the organisation
depends, and the various institutions, people, and interest groups that affect the
entire industry, including the end users or consumers.
An ecosystem’s framework, in contrast, incorporates the broader environment within
which organisations operate. It captures the elements of Porter’s economic analysis,
adds other potentially important actors, and incorporates the non-market forces.
This framework is particularly appropriate for the production of social innovation, as
their promoters (social entrepreneurs, intrapreneurs, etc.) must leverage complex systems
of interacting players in rapidly evolving political, economic, physical and cultural
environments. Moreover, the more innovative the initiative, the more likely it is to come
up against the aversion to change of those who have stakes in the system as it is.
Today, ecosystems for social innovation are seen as the way to create an innovation-friendly
environment where social innovations can grow and to address not only
the apparent cause but also the underlying problems. The shift from social innovation as
a charitable solution to a problem that has an immediate but unsustainable impact (e.g.
give food to the hungry) to the transformative ambition to create long-lasting changes
to solve societal problems (e.g. homelessness, food disorders) that are engrained in
behaviours and institutional and cultural context (laws, policies, social norms) has also
been a reason to look for a ‘friendly milieu’ to organise interactions and respond to the
needs of social innovations at every stage of their development. Thus, the term ‘ecosystem’
has spread within the social innovation community as a response to the different
26	It started with a wide consultation and was shaped by three European Commissioners, i.e. the Commissioners
responsible for the Single Market (M. Barnier), Employment and Social Affairs (L. Andor) and Enterprise (A.
Tajani).
27	The Social Business Initiative was launched with a Communication on corporate social responsibility and a
revision of the Transparency Directive as a package to increase trust: ‘Social business is a good example of
an approach to business that is both responsible and contributes to growth and jobs. But we need to ensure
all companies, not just social businesses, take their impact on wider society seriously: that's why I also want
big multinationals [….] to be more open about what they are paying to governments across the world’ (Michel
Barnier).
28	The Competitive Advantage of Nations, 1990.
21P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
needs to structure, experiment, nurture, network, support, scale up and transfer social
innovations at the different stages of their development.
1.3.2. Main components of an ecosystem for social innovation
Supportive policies, adequate governance, innovative finance, a variety of capacity
building and recognition tools such as incubators, hubs, forums, prizes and research
in methodologies, benchmarking and impact measurement are the main components
which, together, create the ‘natural environment’ for social innovation to flourish. While
the movement and creative energy in the ecosystem comes from the actors and their
connections, the administrative, economic and legal environment has to be enabling.
Where the priority objective is to solve a problem of a social or societal nature, people
(in whatever capacity they act) have to pool their resources and work together. Often,
a dominant administrative culture or conflicting objectives prevent this. The key to supportive
governance is to identify those obstacles and create spaces for cooperation and
for thinking outside the box. Promoting a culture of trust and learning from failures is
also part of supportive governance. Governments have to set up enabling processes and
institutions to encourage the creation of ecosystems which mobilise collective energy
and initiative to develop, mostly small-scale but effective solutions to improve quality
of life. Social entrepreneurship (or intrapreneurship), the main vector to channel action
in this field is often small, can also be larger29
and usually has a transformative agenda.
The use of digital tools to reach their goals is already quite widespread amongst
social innovators (e.g. Websourd30
uses a call centre to translate job interviews, etc.).
Increasingly, however, digital tools are also used as a core element to mobilise collective
intelligence for the co-creation of public goods (e.g. Code for America,31
Nudge,32
etc.).
This gives a radically new dimension to social innovations and the ecosystems which
can allow them to grow. Communication technologies create very large and open spaces
for the self-organisation and mobilisation of society which enlarge the scope of civil
society mobilisation and generate new issues of control and trust (see the Digital Social
Innovation project33
and the Onlife Initiative for rethinking public spaces in the digital
transition34
).
Access to resources and/or funding is another crucial component, which has to be available
in different forms at the right time. From access to public procurement or small
experimental grants to investments in large projects likely to bring substantial social
benefits in the medium to long term (e.g. investment in the social integration of prisoners
to eventually reduce crime). As illustrated in the Malmö example mentioned below,
this can even include regrouping investments to achieve the same social objective and
involving stakeholders and end users can often double or treble the impact of budgets
and or investments.
29	cf. for example SOS (http://www.groupe-sos.org).
30	http://www.websourd.org/; http://www.websourd-entreprise.fr/.
31	http://codeforamerica.org/.
32	R. Thaler & C. Sunstein, Yale University Press, 2009.
33	https://webgate.ec.europa.eu/socialinnovationeurope/directory/switzerland/event/digital-social-innovation-
workshop.
34	http://ec.europa.eu/digital-agenda/en/onlife-initiative.
22 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
Any collective endeavour where the mobilisation of energies is the main resource needs
catalysing places and instruments where collective work is valued and recognised (or
at least not penalised). Incubators to generate the birth and growth as well as tools to
exchange, compare and value are other essential components of the social innovation
ecosystem.
The fourth ingredient to create a fertile environment for initiating innovative practices
of a disruptive nature is to develop evidence of a different nature that is likely to work
and yield measurable results, but also to develop methodologies from empirical and
theoretical observations to develop or scale up successful experiments. Thus, research
is an essential component of the ecosystem.
A striking example of the development above is the study entitled A map of social enterprises
and their ecosystems in Europe.35
The European Commission called for this study
in April 2013 to establish for the first time an overview of national policies, schemes
and actions aimed at promoting social enterprises and supporting the development of a
conducive ecosystem where it exists as well as the current state and dynamics of social
investments markets. This was only done for 11 Member States.36
It studies the following issues for these countries: the political and legal recognition of
the concept of social enterprise; public support schemes; whether marks and labelling
schemes are in use, the social investment markets. Finally, it assesses the opportunities
and barriers for each country. This first exercise shows wide differences amongst Member
States regarding the degree of maturity of the ecosystem. In countries with a long tradition
of social economy like Italy and France, a variety of well-established tools have been
developed while in newcomers like Latvia or Romania, the recognition and the private and
public support systems for social business is still in its infancy but in great demand.
In itself, this study is a resource for policymakers, social entrepreneurs and stakeholders
in social business in general as it provides timely information on when, where and how
social entrepreneurs can find an understanding and friendly environment to initiate, develop
and scale up social enterprises.
1.3.3. Examples of ecosystems for social innovation
As mentioned above, the growing importance of social enterprises in the EU social innovation
policy framework emphasises the importance of developing an enabling environment
made of specific instruments, a more understanding environment and to develop
innovative tools (e.g. European Partnerships) to stimulate interaction between actors in
fertile ground. A large number of public or private actors at national and local level can
take advantage of this new policy focus.
Two very different case studies can be mentioned to illustrate these issues:
yy firstly, Oksigen37
is a dynamic Belgian consortium established on the private initiative
of likeminded individuals. It covers every stage of a social innovation’s develop-
35	http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/social_business/docs/expert-group/20131128-sbi-sector-mapping-study_
en.pdf.
36	Denmark, Finland, France, Hungary, Romania, Latvia, Poland, Italy, Spain, Ireland and Belgium.
37	For more information, please refer to: http://www.oksigen.eu/ and http://www.i-propeller.com/.
23P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
ment, including tutoring and mentoring, the search for diverse sources of financing,
upscaling and transfer and integrates applied research. It offers a springboard for
leveraging the effects of public and private programmes and funds aimed at developing
effective solutions to new or unaddressed social or societal needs;
yy secondly, a multicultural city like Malmö,38
which is strategically putting in place
an ambitious plan of ‘ecosystems’, is a good example of what can be done in this
area. Local authorities together with welfare services and local economic actors
have a vested interest in identifying more efficient solutions to address concrete
social problems and improve the quality of life in their community. The idea is to
fundamentally reassess all the direct and indirect social ‘costs’ and reallocate them
in a dynamic and interactive process to benefit people in the community with a longterm
impact. This cannot be done unless you create an ecosystem where administrations
working in silos, economic actors willing to serve their community as well
as their business interest and those citizens most concerned, are given a common
framework where they can interact, design and implement.
1.4. Measurement of social impact
There are at least four reasons for tackling the challenge of measuring social innovation.
First, there is a need to prove that social innovation is an effective and sustainable way
to respond to societal needs (from this perspective, the belief that after the crisis, social
innovation can play a pivotal role in serving as a competitive future advantage for European
economies and societies has been underlined in many EU documents.39
The Guide to
Social Innovation, published in 2013, states in particular ‘Europe is ideally placed to take
a lead and capture first-mover benefits when it comes to implementing social innovations
by proactively and effectively trying to fully (and fairly) realise both economic and societal
benefits’). Second, justifying the allocation of public money as well as attracting other
sources of public and private financing requires a shared understanding of what the ‘positive
and measurable social effects’40
of social innovations are. Third, evidence-based policies
require ex ante evidence of the expected impact of the actions involved. Finally, social
innovations (seen as drivers in the current transition41
) could open the way to developing
a new competitive advantage for European economies, showing that social and environmental
value creation is central to the human and ecological sustainability of societies.
The reasons why social innovations are difficult to measure are of course proportional to
their scope (i.e. the smaller the objective, the easier the measurement). This difficulty is
also explained by the fact that their success relies on factors which, by their nature, are
difficult to quantify, at least in the short to medium term. Indeed, their success relies on
how they have been able to act as drivers of social change,42
to break with established
38	www.malmo.se/kommission.
39	The Innovation Union flagship initiative introduced social innovation as a driver of a European innovation
strategy and this idea has since guided developments in research and innovation policy, enterprise and
industry in particular.
40	This is the terminology used by EU institutions (Commission, Parliament, Economic and Social Committee) to
frame the notion of social impact in the EuSEF (European Social Entrepreneurship Funds) and EaSI (European
Programme for Employment and Social Innovation).
41	See The EU's Fifth Project - Transitional Governance in the Service of Sustainable Societies
http://www.uclouvain.be/461789.html.
42	Social innovations as drivers of social change, J. Howaldt, R. Kopp & M. Schwarz, 2013.
24 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
approaches43
and to engage a process of changing behaviours, ‘basic routines, resource
and authority flows, or beliefs of the social system’ in which they occur.44
The benefits of overcoming the challenge of measuring social innovation will allow further
developments in different aspects of social innovation at a crucial moment for the
post-crisis economy.
Both micro-level measurement (how successfully a social enterprise is contributing to
this goal) and macro-level measurement (social enterprises grow in an ecosystem composed
of a favourable governance framework, capacity-building tools and learning processes)
have become necessary.
Measures of the success/impact of social innovation is the increasingly shared idea
that ‘economic outcomes have for a long time been the main indicator to measure the
development of organisations and countries, but a more holistic perspective considering
social, environmental and economic consequences must come to the fore to build a sustainable
world’.45
Awareness of this has increased in recent years since climate change
and inequalities are on the rise. Even before widespread political attention was drawn
to this agenda by the Report on the Measurement of Economic and Social Progress46
(known as the Stiglitz-Sen-Fitoussi report), the Commission had already held a large
forum on Beyond GDP47
in 2007. This was followed by a Communication on GDP and
Beyond – Measuring progress in a changing world,48
highlighting the need for new instruments
to monitor and measure environmental and social development and establishing
a roadmap. A review of progress on GDP and beyond actions was published in 2013.49
In
addition, other actors have also taken steps to introduce new instruments, e.g. the OECD
with its Better Life Index.50
Many analysts around the world believe that it is necessary
to measure wellbeing or quality of life in order to better respond to the needs of this
century. As far as social innovation is concerned, this is likely to kick-start the systemic
change mentioned inter alia in the first BEPA report, by bringing to the fore the value of
non-tradeable goods and services that contribute to wellbeing.
Against this background, we examine below the need for social impact measurement
and guidance on how it should be carried out in the specific context of:
yy evidence-based policies; and
yy funding/financing social innovation; and to
yy follow progress so far in the area of indicators and social impact measurement.
43	Social Innovation: Blurring Boundaries to Reconfigure Markets, A. Nicholls & A. Murdock; Palgrave Macmillan,
2011.
44	Making a Difference - Strategies for Scaling Social Innovation for Greater Impact, Frances Westley and Nino
Antadze (presented at the Social Frontiers social innovation research conference, November 2013).
45	EESC report on social impact measurement.
46	http://www.stiglitz-sen-fitoussi.fr/documents/rapport_anglais.pdf.
47	http://ec.europa.eu/environment/beyond_gdp/index_en.html.
48	COM(2009) 433 final.
49	http://ec.europa.eu/environment/enveco/pdf/SWD_2013_303.pdf.
50	www.betterlifeindex.org. .
25P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
1.4.1. Evidence-based policies
Public policy development increasingly requires accountability as well as efficiency to
ensure the best use of resources. While coarse assessments can in some cases be the
way to approximate a cost benefit analysis due to urgent circumstances, scientifically
based methods are increasingly used to compare (ex ante) the benefits that a community
would derive from a specific measure or scheme to a comparable community which
did not have this measure or scheme. The principle of social experimentation to test a
policy intervention on a small population so as to evaluate its efficacy before deciding
whether it should be scaled up is on the agenda of many policymakers wishing to design
a potentially policy-relevant intervention as well as measure its actual efficacy.
Existing methods for assessing a project’s chances of success and their different costs
are detailed in a methodological guide for policymakers,51
published by the Commission
in September 2011 in order to assist policymakers in designing socially innovative projects.
This guide sets out basic principles to follow in order to design a potentially policy-relevant
intervention. It describes six commonly used methods of evaluation, which
are compared from the point of view of the reliability of the results they deliver; and
considers the costs associated with each method, and the complexity of implementing
them in practice.
The ‘gold standard’ for these methods goes to randomised experiments. They draw
from the principle of randomised controlled trial used in scientific experiment, and in
particular clinical trials to test the efficacy or effectiveness of various types of medical
interventions in a patient population. The use of randomised trials to test solutions
was pioneered by Esther Duflo, professor at MIT and Director of the Abdul Latif Jameel
Poverty Action Lab,52
which has now grown into a global network of professors who use
randomised evaluations to answer critical policy questions in the fight against poverty.
This network has conducted over 500 randomised evaluations in 57 countries. Some
of the policy lessons have led to the scaling up of programmes which have improved
the lives of millions of individuals. These include school-based deworming programmes
as one of the most effective methods for improving school participation in developing
countries or providing free access to chlorine dispensers at water sources to reduce the
death of children under five.53
Nevertheless, randomised evaluations of social programmes take time and can be complex
to implement.
Many authors in the open literature have discussed the benefits and limitations of randomised
social experimentation as a tool for evaluating social programmes.54
Other
techniques also commonly used are referred to as non-experimental or quasi-experimental
methods. They are usually less complex to implement than randomised evaluations,
but the results they deliver are also less reliable. It appears that random assignment
to the treatment and comparison groups is the best way to ensure that the
comparison group is similar in every respect to the treatment group. Non-experimental
51	Written by J-Pal Europe at the request of
the European Commission's Directorate-General for Employment,
Social Affairs and Inclusion.
52	http://www.povertyactionlab.org/.
53	http://www.povertyactionlab.org/scale-ups/chlorine-dispensers-safe-water.
54	See for example Randomization and Social Policy Evaluation, James Heckman, NBER Technical Working Paper
No 107, July 1991.
26 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
methods must rely on an assumption to justify the claim that the comparison group
they use is similar to the treatment group.
In order to test measures aimed at the development of new social practices and/or
the reorganisation of existing ones in EU Member States, the PROGRESS programme
(2008-12) allocated EUR 10 million to developing social policy experiments. Thirty-six
projects focusing on the social and professional inclusion of vulnerable groups were
financed. Hope in stations: HOmeless PEople in train stations was one of these projects.
In the new programme for employment and social innovation, technical assistance for
conducting randomised evaluations is made available to administrations undertaking
social policy reforms.
Thus, the rapid development of this subject has proven its intrinsic interest. It is to be
expected that the wide range of research projects and scientific publications on this
topic will lead to enhanced cooperation on the quantification and measurement of social
impact and on designing and assessing social policies.
1.4.2. Funding/financing social innovation
A sound technique for measuring the impact of the social innovation is a prerequisite
for funding/financing social innovation. The recent period has been characterised by the
emergence of a wider diversity of funding sources for innovative ventures with a social
objective from the public and private sectors. This proliferation of funding/financing
mechanisms has led to the urgent need to further develop methods for measuring the
social and economic benefits. Public bodies at every level have worked to increase the
offer, from dedicated microfinance funds to public procurement,55
but the financial and
banking sector are taking a growing interest in ‘impact finance’ and the public at large
responds, where legislation permits, to calls to ‘crowdfund’ social ventures. This is good
news as one of the major barriers to the development of social innovation identified in
the first BEPA report was access to finance, but also overdependence on grants from
charities, foundations and public support, in particular when growth capital is needed to
engage in long-term ventures.
This aspect has raised considerable attention, in particular at EU level, since the launch
of the Social Business Initiative. The Commission’s Communication on the Single Market
Act II56
highlighted the need to develop methods for measuring the social and economic
benefits generated by social enterprises in the implementation of the EuSEF57
and the
programme for Employment and Social Innovation (EaSI).58
In response, a subgroup
of the Commission’s consultative multi-stakeholder group on social enterprise (GECES)
55	As illustrated in part 2 of this document.
56	http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/smact/docs/single-market-act2_en.pdf.
57	The Regulation on European social entrepreneurship funds (EuSEFs) was published in the Official Journal on
25 April 2013. Together with the Regulation on European venture capital funds (EuVECA) and the Alternative
Investment Fund Managers Directive (AIFMD), this Regulation aims to make it easier for AIFMD-exempt
venture capitalists and social entrepreneurs to raise funds across Europe without the requirement to comply
with the full AIFMD regime.  The key elements of the Regulation provide for an EU brand for EuSEFs and the
introduction of a European marketing passport.  The range of eligible financing tools/investments under the
EuSEF Regulation is wider than those available for venture capital funds under the EVCF Regulation.
58	The third axis of this programme focuses on microfinance and social entrepreneurship with a fund of EUR
86 million over seven years to provide grants, investments and guarantees to social enterprises which can
demonstrate that they have a ‘measurable social impact’.
27P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
was tasked with providing the Commission with guidelines on how social enterprise can
measure their social impact on the community.
The report adopted by the GECES in June 2014 makes a set of recommendations and
defines areas where follow-up is required. It underlines the benefit that a standard for
social impact measurement, ideally agreed worldwide, would have. However, it recognises
that no single set of indicators can be devised in a ‘top-down fashion’ to measure
social impact in all cases.
In order to meet the needs of social enterprises, funders and policymakers to achieve
comparability in reporting and monitoring, to limit the costs of the assessment to the
size and scope of the venture and to allow an approach that respects the diversity of
social enterprises as well as the need to cope with change and improvement, the GECES
advocates a process for social impact measurement.
This process involves five stages: 1) identify objectives; 2) identify stakeholders; 3) set
relevant measurement; 4) measure, validate and value; 5) report, learn and improve.
All stages should involve active stakeholder engagement. In particular, the number and
range of indicators should be agreed between the social enterprise, beneficiaries or
service users as well as investors, allowing for lighter and cheaper processes for small
ventures. The dynamics of involving all stakeholders (from investors to service users)
is designed to maintain the balance between the overriding need to deliver measurable
social impact and the need for a profitable operation that can meet investor expecta-
tions.
The report also includes guidance on reporting standards for social impact measurement
and indicators, and examples of case studies illustrating how measurement techniques
are used. It represents a very rigorous, participatory and useful exercise to respond to
the European Commission’s request. Its conclusions stress the need for further action,
in particular in raising awareness and facilitating stakeholder engagement. This idea is
reinforced by the opinion on social impact measurement of the European Economic and
Social Committee (EESC).59
According to the GECES subgroup, the areas where follow-up is required are:
yy guidance to assist social enterprises, funders, fund managers and investors in all EU
Member States in complying with the standards proposed;
yy the establishment of a knowledge centre on social impact measurement for guidance,
exchange of practice and monitoring;
yy the development and consolidation of measurement frameworks with stakeholder
participation;
yy the development of reporting formats; and
yy the development of a network or group of experts to act as a reference point for
dissemination and development with respect to social impact measurement, integrating
EuSEF and EaSI experience.
59	http://www.eesc.europa.eu/?i=portal.en.int-opinions.29291.
28 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
1.4.3. Indicators for a socially innovative society
In the wake of demands from stakeholders, the issue of social innovation and its economic,
social (and environmental) impact and measurement have become significant priorities
on the EU agenda. In EU policymaking, this has recently become apparent in initiatives like
the Communication on the social dimension of the EMU,60
which proposes social indicators
and actions to complement economic reporting. This line of reasoning now appears
in many EU documents where the measurement and monitoring of social added value,
change and impact is a prerequisite for the implementation of directives and programmes.
In line with the idea that we are still in a learning process, analysis and research is being
conducted on the measurement of societal (social and environmental) value creation and
the development of indicators.61
On the latter issue, the 2013 report on Employment and
Social Development in Europe highlights the need to adapt the way we measure economic
and social progress in order to take proper account of inequalities.
In this context, the issue of measurement and financing has made tremendous advances
in recent years. New tools are being tested, new sources of finance are appearing (EU
funding possibilities, crowdfunding, more access to public procurement, etc.) and the question
of social value creation is being widely discussed. However, it is still a work in progress
which will continue to require considerable attention in the coming years.
This said, while there are currently no agreed macro or micro level measurement approaches
that specifically focus on social innovation, the field of research is fed by indicators
to measure innovation in public and private sector organisations (e.g. innovation
union scoreboard, public sector innovation index, etc.) and indicators that focus on social
normative or environmental dimensions which capture the social and wellbeing aspects
(e.g. the European Statistical System (ESS) Sponsorship Group, the European System of
Social Indicators, ESS/GESIS/Eurostat sustainable societies or the OECD Better Life Index).
In practice, there are some new and encouraging elements in recent developments.
yy First, while the assessment exercises are still straitjacketed in ‘one-size-fits-all’ public
spending control standards, social and environmental policies in particular are
increasingly adopting scientifically based methods such as social experimentation
to test (and prove) the effectiveness of innovations in their sector before they can
be scaled up and replicated;
yy Secondly, ‘social impact measurement’ is an issue, which has stirred up a lively debate
in many circles and at many levels. At micro level, impact investing has been
on the agenda of large private firms (JP Morgan and the GIIN62
) for a few years
now. The press has echoed more than usual to the financing of the social economy
in general but also to associated financial innovations such as social impact bonds
or crowdfunding. As explained in sub-section 1.4.2, several activities have been developed
at European level. For example, the Social Business Initiative has launched
60	http://ec.europa.eu/commission_2010-2014/president/news/archives/2013/10/pdf/20131002_1-emu_en.pdf.
61	EU research projects like e-Frame and BRAINPOoL are particularly relevant in this respect. The link with the
role of social innovation in this agenda is made in TEPSIE and SIMPACT.
62	In November 2010, JP Morgan collaborated with the Global Impact Investing Network (GIIN) and the
Rockefeller Foundation on one of the first significant (despite the small sample) pieces of research on
investments intended to create a positive impact beyond financial returns. The study noted that the rigour of
systems to track and manage social performance was the best guarantee against the risks to see exploitation
of poor people for the sake of profit and system drifts.
29P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
the debate amongst national and local experts, civil society organisations63
and the
European institutions. Lately, the Group of European Experts (GECES) has contributed
to the discussion about the different approaches to social impact measurement,
which is an important step towards the establishment of shared standards; and
yy Lastly, the European Commission has launched Horizon 2020, the largest research and
innovation programme in the world, with a budget of EUR 80 billion. The programme
will run from 2014 to 2020 and has an important social innovation component. It is to
be expected that progress will be achieved in the different areas of social innovation,
including the development of indicators for social innovation and techniques for social
impact measurement.
63	3M Jonathan Bland, Confrontations Europe.
2. Leading by example:
how public sector
innovation supports
social innovation
Social innovation is a bottom-up process with little theoretical conceptualisation
and support from methodological developments for the
measurement of social impacts. The public sector plays a pivotal role in
promoting and facilitating social innovation by providing a common conceptual
framework for social innovation activities. Nevertheless the public
sector needs to innovate itself in order to meet the increase in public demand
and to promote and facilitate social innovation.
There is an urgent need to power innovation within the public sector itself in order to unlock
radical productivity improvements and efficiency gains, foster the creation of more
public value and a better response to societal challenges. Public authorities need to
promote effective instruments (legislation, removal of barriers, and public procurement)
linked to social innovation.
This can only happen through a pervasive change of mind-set, with more experimentation,
controlled risk taking, and an agile and personalised response to new constituent
challenges. This will help unleash the potential of an innovative public sector that can
enable social innovation to make the transition from a random, bottom-up approach to
a systemic phenomenon.
2.1. The Commission’s commitment to
supporting public sector innovation
The European Commission has, for a long time, tried to develop new thinking to modernise
European economies and their social model to meet societal expectations. Public
sector innovation as a positive way to respond to budget constraints has indeed, for
many years, been considered a policy lever to improve the quality and efficiency of pub-
32 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
lic services. For instance, the impact of new technologies researched and tested through
large-scale pilot schemes on e-Government, e-Health, e-Inclusion, e-Participation and
social experimentation schemes to improve social inclusion have been on the agenda for
more than ten years. The same goes for social innovation schemes to empower people
to improve the provision and delivery of services.
In 2012, the Group of Innovation Commissioners spurred renewed interest in this area,
following the Innovation Union flagship initiative. It translated into concrete actions, including
in particular the ones set out below.
yy The inventory of the Commission’s initiatives in public sector innovation is a first
attempt to map the efforts made under different EU policy headings to support
innovation in the public sector. It has so far resulted in a document focusing on processes
and organisational changes in public sector organisations that contribute to
increasing public welfare and quality of life (cf. 2.2 below).
yy The Commission launched a pilot European Public Sector Innovation Scoreboard (EPSIS)
with a view to improving its ability to benchmark the innovation performance
of the public sector in Europe. The ultimate ambition was to capture and present
public sector innovation in a similar way to the innovation performance rating of
countries in the Innovation Union Scoreboard (IUS)64
and thereby encourage and
facilitate innovation activity across the public sector. The 2013 pilot EPSIS65
was the
first EU-wide attempt to better understand and to analyse innovation in the public
sector. It was developed based on the experience of earlier national and regional
projects, tested widely and discussed with a number of key experts in relevant areas.
The EPSIS shows that all EU Member States consider public sector innovation to be
a national requirement and a means by which to drive continuous improvement in
public service design and delivery. The Scoreboard also shows that Member States
may be grouped into two categories: a small number of ‘innovation leaders’ and a
larger number that may be designated as ‘innovation followers’. ‘Innovation leaders’
are more concerned with finding radical new approaches to deliver public services
whereas ‘innovation followers’ are still concerned with making fundamental reforms
to public institutions.
2.2. Powering European public sector
innovation: towards a new
architecture
Under the responsibility of the Commissioner for Research and Innovation, a group of
twelve experts was asked to analyse the role of the public sector, barriers to innovation
and the current gaps in policies focused on innovation in the public sector. Their report
Powering European Public Sector Innovation: Towards a New Architecture66
suggests that
public sector innovation today mostly happens through uncoordinated initiatives rather
than as a result of deliberate, strategic efforts. The quest for more and better public sector
innovation is hindered by several barriers, which fall into four major categories: weak
64	http://ec.europa.eu/enterprise/policies/innovation/policy/innovation-scoreboard/index_en.htm.
65	http://ec.europa.eu/enterprise/policies/innovation/files/epsis-2013_en.pdf.
66	http://ec.europa.eu/research/innovation-union/pdf/psi_eg.pdf.
33P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
enabling factors or unfavourable framework conditions; lack of innovation leadership at
all levels; limited knowledge and application of innovation processes and methods; and
insufficiently precise and systematic use of measurement and data.
There are efforts underway to address these barriers, both in the European Union (e.g.
Joinup,67
the common portal for e-Government solutions) and globally (e.g. the OECD’s
Observatory of Public Sector Innovation68
), and the expert group has reviewed an extensive
amount of scientific literature and best practices. However, a paradigm shift is
needed in order to embed and encourage an innovation culture within the public sector,
which will also improve its absorptive capacity.
A new innovation paradigm and design principles
In its search for developing concrete recommendations to overcome the barriers to innovation,
the expert group has recognised the following four design principles that should
be at the heart of the public sector. These principles must be mainstreamed throughout
the entire ecosystem of public sector actors for the greatest gains in quality, efficiency,
fairness, transparency and accountability.
yy Co-design and co-creation of innovative solutions (with other Member States, other
parts of government, businesses, the third sector and citizens);
yy Adopting new and collaborative service delivery models (across public, private and
non-governmental actors, both within and across national borders);
yy Embracing creative disruption from technology (the pervasive use of social media,
mobility, big data, cloud computing packaged in new digital government offerings);
yy Adopting an attitude of experimentation and entrepreneurship (government itself
needs to become bolder and more entrepreneurial).
Recommendations for new public sector innovation architecture in Europe
The report identifies several actions that should be taken rapidly (either at EU level or in
the Member States, depending on political and financial considerations). The recommendations
may be divided into three groups.
yy Leading Innovation: to establish a programme to empower and network innovative
public leaders and to establish an EU Innovation Lab inside the European Commission
to support and facilitate innovation in the work of the Commission Services.
yy Enabling Innovation: to establish a network of Innovation Single Contact Points in all
Member States; to establish an Accelerator for Digital Innovation and a Public Sector
Angel Fund.
yy Informing Innovation: to establish a Dynamic Innovation Toolbox targeted at public
managers and to establish a European Citizens’ Scoreboard for public services.
67	https://joinup.ec.europa.eu/.
68	http://www.oecd.org/gov/public-innovation/observatory-public-sector-innovation.htm.
34 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
BEPA held a high-level meeting on public sector innovation in July 2013.69
The objective
of this meeting was to discuss public sector innovation and the need for a more systemic
approach in order to create a dynamic and open public sector. The major outcomes of
the meeting may be grouped in the following areas:
Evidence-based methodologies for efficient policymaking
yy The need to test new policies and programmes: Innovative public programmes addressing
important policy issues, which have a potential to be scaled up, should be
‘tested’ before they are implemented on a large scale. One should learn from the
experiments, via rigorous evaluation.
yy The need to use scientific methodologies to measure and quantify the social impact
of policies and programmes: Learning about the impact of a policy is not straightforward.
J-Pal,70
the poverty action Lab created by Esther Duflo, has developed a
scientific methodology based on a randomised control trials approach, which allows
meaningful comparisons.
Innovation strategies in the public sector
yy The need to highlight innovation pockets at different levels of public administration:
copying successful innovations is often the most effective way to innovate and the
best ideas are not necessarily the newest. The European Public Sector Innovation
Scoreboard can help to understand who is doing better and how we can improve.
yy The need for the public sector to invest in innovation: based on collaborative approaches
to driving change and to governance.
yy The need to foster innovation led by example: the European Commission can provide
support by promoting systematic collaboration and rigorous evaluation of the policies
adopted, applying the scientific method to the public sector and using sophisticated
tools to analyse complex interacting systems.
69	http://ec.europa.eu/bepa/expertise/seminars/index_en.htm; http://ec.europa.eu/bepa/pdf/conferences/note-psi-
reportweb.pdf.
70	http://www.povertyactionlab.org/about-j-pal.
3. Achievements and
lessons learned
Providing an overall evaluation of social innovations in Europe – including
EU policies and their impact on societal challenges – is almost impossible
considering the large amount of new and interactive initiatives, but
also the broad goals of EU programmes that integrate social innovation.
However, while the overall picture is sometimes difficult to capture at a
glance, the drive behind social innovation has become firmer and instruments
are better defined. This is no mean feat and the attention and
budget allocated to promoting social innovation are higher than ever. The
backdrop to this firmer drive is the need to improve knowledge of how
and where social innovations emerge, scale up and duplicate, and how
effective they are in addressing current societal challenges not only for,
but also with citizens.
A set of specific examples are taken from the Guide to Social Innovation, published by
DG Regional and Urban Policy and DG Employment, Social Affairs in February 2013.71
Some of them show how support under the Structural Funds will increasingly be sought
for the development of instruments to encourage a participatory approach to the resolution
of social problems. Others develop thematic issues to deal with the major challenges
that migration and ageing; environmental trends; IT solutions to inclusion; urban
regeneration and housing; health and wellbeing; and the development of ethical goods
and services pose at local level and which many cities or local communities need to
address.
While a number of the issues mentioned here would have found their place in other
parts of this document, examples of practical developments mainly supported by the EU
Structural Funds are meant to emulate new ideas and entrepreneurship.
71	http://ec.europa.eu/regional_policy/sources/docgener/presenta/social_innovation/social_innovation_2013.pdf.
36 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.1. Deepening our understanding and
knowledge of social innovation
The two major sources of new knowledge developed during the last period are, on the
one hand, a factual Europe-wide study on A Map of Social Enterprises and their Eco-systems
in Europe, which was launched by the European Commission’s Directorate-General
for Employment, Social Affairs and Inclusion in April 201372
and, on the other hand, the
large body of research funded by the FP5, FP6 and FP7 Socio-economic Sciences and
Humanities Programme on issues related to social innovation, including in the areas
of theory building and conceptualisation, local welfare systems and services, poverty
reduction, combating inequalities, and changing lifestyles.
3.1.1. The Mapping study
It is composed of five main tasks which are briefly described as follows:
Task 1: Identification of social enterprises – to develop an operational definition that
can be used to identify, measure and map social enterprise across Europe and thus provide
the basis for carrying out the remaining research tasks;
Task 2: Measurement, characterisation and mapping of social enterprise – to collect
(through primary and secondary research) and analyse data on the scale, characteristics
and patterns of development of social enterprise in each country studied;
Task 3: Legal and standards mapping – to map (a) legal ‘labels’ and frameworks designed
exclusively for social enterprises where these exist; (b) corporate law aspects of
the three legal forms most commonly used by social enterprises in each country studied;
(c) legal and regulatory barriers to creation and growth of social enterprise; and (d)
marks, labels and certification systems designed for social enterprises;
Task 4: Mapping of public policies and social investment markets – to provide an
overview of national policies, schemes and actions aimed at promoting social entrepreneurs
and social enterprises and supporting the development of a conducive ecosystem
(where these exist); and, the current state and dynamics of social investment markets
in Europe; and
Task 5: Developing recommendations for EU action – to develop recommendations for
future research and policy action to support the growth of social enterprise in Europe.
This is the very first time that researchers have carried out such a systematic and broad
overview of existing traditions and legal, public policy and investment conditions for the
development of social enterprises.
72	http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/social_business/docs/expert-group/20131128-sbi-sector-mapping-study_
en.pdf.
37P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
3.1.2. Social innovation research in the European Union
The EU Socio-economic Sciences and Humanities Programme is the second main source
of new knowledge from the last period. However, in view of increasing demand from
policymakers and practitioners alike for social innovations and the emerging possibilities
for new research avenues on social innovation, including in Horizon 2020, a policy
review commissioned by the European Commission’s DG Research and Innovation from
experts in the field73
has produced a systematic overview of research findings from 17
European projects in the area of social innovation. The review74
focuses on how these
projects address social innovation in terms of theory, methodology, policy areas, actors,
and level of analysis in order to bring the results to the attention of policymakers, wider
groups of stakeholders and the broader public in a comprehensive way.
The point that comes to the fore is that this report is a stocktaking exercise, undertaken
with a view to fostering the engagement of the European research community in a continuous
exchange of ideas and best practices for analysing social innovation and in the
promotion of networking among researchers.
The report ends by identifying five research fields that did not draw much attention in
the projects reviewed and that are areas for further development (social innovation to
overcome the inequalities of health and re-pattern the social determinants of health;
social innovation in rural areas and societies; social innovation in the financial sector;
social innovation and the private sector; and social innovation for managing diversity).
3.2. Instruments to improve the
ecosystem
As well established by now, research in social innovation is – by nature – mainly empirical
and its primary field of development is the local level, where stakeholders can more
easily be mobilised on concrete issues. In order to scan the scope of empirical developments
and draw lessons on how social innovations contribute to reform local welfare
systems, this part of the report addresses some patterns of innovatory social projects
and networks to fight social inequalities and stimulate social cohesion at local level.
3.2.1. The social economy
According to the EU Social Business Initiative, the social economy employs over 11 million
people in the EU, accounting for 6 % of total employment. It covers bodies with a
specific legal status (cooperatives, foundations, associations, mutual societies).
The social economy can clearly play a role in regional development. For instance, the
Emilia Romagna region has published a study on the importance of the social economy
73	Jane Jenson and Dennis Harrisson in Social innovation research in the European Union – Approaches, findings
and future directions - Policy Review http://ec.europa.eu/research/social-sciences/pdf/social_innovation.pdf.
74	Its first results were presented and discussed at the conference Approaches to Research on Social Innovation:
Learning from One Another for the Future, which was organised by the FP7 project WILCO jointly with the
European Commission’s DG Research and Innovation on February 2013.
38 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
for territorial and social cohesion. Its main conclusions are that public policies are the
fruit of the combined contribution of public authorities and social economy organisations
in the provision of public utility services, in which the joint participation of both
players is an essential requirement to ensure quality; and that public-private partnership
is a tool to deliver more effective and efficient primary social services, which have so far
been historically provided by the welfare state. At the same time, it helps identify and
deliver services in new and additional fields. In so doing, new forms of cooperation are
established with civil society and stakeholders.
The European Regional Development Fund (ERDF) supports the development of social
enterprises as it does for other types of businesses. Financial support can be delivered
directly to individual companies, through social enterprise intermediaries, such as social
enterprise or cooperative development agencies, and through financial institutions.
There are increasing numbers of financial institutions that specialise in investing in social
enterprises and many of the new ethical banks specialise in this type of investment.
The European Social Fund (ESF) also supports social enterprises. Firstly, it can strengthen
administrative capacities and support structures which promote social enterprises. This
can be carried out in particular through education and training, for example, through
the integration of social entrepreneurship in the curricula of specific vocations, or the
provision of training improving the business skills of social entrepreneurs. Networking
and the development of partnerships, as well as the setting up of business development
services for social enterprises can be supported too. Secondly, the ESF can mobilise extra
funds targeted at the development of the social economy and the promotion of social
entrepreneurship and easily accessible for social enterprises.
The social economy has different traditions in different parts and Member States of
Europe. Some countries, like France, have a strong tradition of ‘économie sociale et solidaire’.
They are gearing up with social innovation in its ‘newer’ meaning and initiatives
are sprouting, often linked with the Structural Funds. For example, Avise75
has launched
a call for proposals with the aim to accelerate social innovation in the social economy,
and thus help to find new answers to unmet needs in fields like employment, housing,
ageing, childcare, etc.
Market access for social enterprises is still restricted (even if the provisions of the new
directives on public procurement76
adopted by the European Parliament and the Council
in early 2014 will noticeably improve the context). Sometimes they are unable to
compete for public tenders against other small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs)
because of interpretations of national rules. Member States and Managing Authorities
and other public contracting bodies can use the purchasing power of large and small
ERDF projects to stimulate social innovation in employment and inclusion of marginalised
groups. The example below from the City of Nantes illustrates how a procurement
framework has opened a space for social enterprises to work directly with the private
sector in helping disadvantaged people into employment. Similar examples exist in other
parts of the EU.
75	http://www.avise.org/.
76	http://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/?uri=CELEX:32014L0024; http://eur-lex.europa.eu/
legal-content/EN/TXT/HTML/?uri=CELEX:32014L0025; http://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/
HTML/?uri=CELEX:32014L0023.
39P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
The Nantes example illustrates how public works contracts can deliver a double benefit: the work that
needs to be done, such as a road, as well as jobs for excluded people.
3.2.2. Microfinance
Whereas microcredit refers specifically to one type of microfinance – the act of providing
loans for business start-up and growth – microfinance is a broader concept in which
a range of products are developed to increase financial inclusion. These products may
include savings, financial education and literacy, personal loans and insurance.
Microfinance was slow to take off in Europe. ADIE77
in France was one of the first to
start up in the late 80s (it is now one of largest with around 20 000 borrowers in 2010).
There are now over 100 microfinance institutions of which around 80 are members of
the European Microfinance Network (EMN), which is supported with EU funds under the
PROGRESS initiative.
Although there are variations, in all EU Member States over 95 % of all businesses are
micro businesses employing less than ten people. They form the bottom of the enterprise
pyramid and are the seeds from which most SMEs and even large companies grow.
Microenterprises in Europe employ around one-third of private sector employees and
produce about 20 % of output.
As mentioned in another part of this survey, the EU funds and instruments for supporting
microfinance are:
77	http://www.adie.org/.
Using public procurement in an innovative way: The City of Nantes
The medium-sized city of Nantes (285 000 people) in north-west France has been known for nearly 15 years
as a leading innovator in using social clauses in public procurement to provide entry level jobs for the long-term
unemployed.
France revised its public procurement rules in 2006 allowing the condition that part of the work must be delivered
by a specific target group with a need for professional insertion. Nantes Metropole and surrounding suburban
administrations awarded contracts using this clause. Work has included swimming pools, roads, bus routes, and a
media centre. The types of trades comprise mason assistants, carpenters, painters, building workers, pavers, green
space maintenance staff, plumbers, metal workers, plasterboard, and external cleaners.
The city has also encouraged the development of support structures for individuals. The ‘Entreprise d’insertion’
trains and prepares them to get jobs that open up in the private sector. In 2008:
•	 183 contract operations contained a social clause;
•	 483 beneficiaries were able to work under an employment contract;
•	 345 000 hours dedicated to insertion (about 200 full-time equivalent jobs), a further 92 000 hours of work for
disadvantaged people were produced benefiting266 employees;
•	 133 enterprises were mobilised through these works;
•	 75 % of beneficiaries were accompanied by a local insertion company (a type of training and employment social
enterprise).
40 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
yy JASMINE, which provides technical assistance for microfinance organisations that
are close to becoming banks or have high levels of financial sustainability (JASMINE
is a joint initiative of the Commission, the European Investment Bank (EIB) and European
Investment Fund (it is financed out of the ERDF);
yy The ERDF, which provides support for setting up and growing microfinance;
yy The EU PROGRESS Microfinance facility – a fund managed by the European Investment
Fund with a total fund of EUR 160 million. It invests in microcredit providers,
which may be banks or NGOs. It does this either by issuing guarantees, thereby
sharing the providers’ potential risk of loss, or by providing funding to increase microcredit
lending;
yy The ESF mostly provides flanking measures for business start-up and business support.
Over EUR 2 billion have been allocated to ESF business support measures in
the current period. Part goes to micro-businesses – especially at the start-up stage.
The German Gründer coaching programme78
is a good example of a national coaching
scheme for start-ups that is co-financed by the ESF.
In 2011, a European Code of Good Conduct for Microcredit Provision79
was developed in
partnership with the microfinance sector.
There are also many microfinance organisations in Europe and elsewhere that have developed
innovative approaches to lending to specific groups. The Microcredit Foundation
Horizonti80
in the former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, for example, has developed
an innovative good practice ‘Housing Microfinance for Roma and marginalised people’.
The initiative started in 2007 with the aim of providing affordable housing to the Roma
community.
78	http://ec.europa.eu/europe2020/pdf/csr2014/nrp2014_germany_en.pdf.
79	http://ec.europa.eu/regional_policy/thefunds/instruments/jasmine_cgc_en.cfm.
80	http://www.microfinancefocus.com/microcredit-fdtn-horizonti-receives-2011-european-best-practices-award/.
The Kiút Programme, self-employment and microcredit for Roma in Hungary
Kiút aims to support Roma to work in the formal economy by starting up a business. The microcredit programme
provides assistance by lending start-up money for small businesses to generate enough revenue to service the loan
and to produce additional income for Roma families.
The clients receive continuous administrative, financial and business advice and assistance. An explicit and important
aim of the programme is to encourage the participation of women (with a set target of 50 % female members in
each group).
41P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
3.2.3. Incubation
The world of social innovation has a number of incubators and centres which are crucial
for testing new ideas and bringing together partnerships.
3.2.4. Workplace innovation
Workplace innovation focuses on how to improve aspects of work organisation and introduce
modern management techniques that involve workers. Workplaces with flatter
hierarchies and the possibility for workers to contribute are more creative and ultimately
more productive and open to addressing both social and technological challenges. Workplace
innovation concerns not only the private sector but also large parts of the social
economy such as charities and foundations as well as the public sector. Celebrated
examples include Google, which allows employees to spend 20 % of their time on their
own projects, and IKEA, which practises stand-up round-table meetings among other
innovative practices allowing employees to tackle problems as they arise with minimum
management interference.
In the Netherlands and Belgium, workplace innovation is called ‘Social Innovation’ and
has been supported for over a decade by the Structural Funds. The approach as such is
strongest in northern Europe, especially Scandinavia.
The ERDF’s business support measures can be used to finance such innovations helping
both management and employees to explore more productive ways of working.
A Social Innovation Park in the Basque country
Denokinn brings together social enterprises, public authorities and the private sector to scale up successful
innovations after they have been piloted. They have launched the first social innovation park in Europe near Bilbao.
Denokinn received EUR 300 000 from the social experimentation part of the EU Progress Fund to develop a social
inclusion dimension to their Hiriko electric car concept. The result was a plan to adopt a decentralised assembly in
which the cars could be put together in work inclusion social enterprises by those excluded from the labour market.
The Hiriko car was launched by President Barroso on 27 January 2012. He said ‘Hiriko is European social innovation at its
best … Firstly, it is a successful example of how to give a new lease of life to traditional industrial sectors by contributing
to address major modern societal challenges, in that specific case, urban mobility and pollution. Secondly, it is a great
combination of new business types of cooperation and employment opportunities with a strong social dimension. Thirdly,
it is an excellent illustration of the finest use that can be made of European social funds’.
Results-based entrepreneurship in the Netherlands
Results-based entrepreneurship (RBE) aims at stimulating technological and social innovation within SMEs.
Advisers work with management and staff combining strategic advice with social innovation (improving
communication, raising personnel involvement, etc.) and so stimulating technological innovation. The improved
teamwork promotes a collective ambition for the company’s success encouraging new ideas, products and
services.
Business support is given through Social Innovation vouchers. Firms can use these vouchers to hire an expert to help
them implement the method. The voucher covers 50 % of the cost up to a maximum of EUR 20 000. The minimum
voucher is EUR 3 000 (with a grant of EUR 1 500). By buying a voucher, a company receives double the amount of
support that it would obtain if it bought the same consultancy on the open market. As companies contribute to the
cost, the scheme ensures their support and commitment.
42 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.2.5. Changes in governance
Governance is one of the key issues when it comes to social innovation. Among the
many experiments in this field, the latest include the one led by Santa Casa da Misericordia
(SCM),81
in Lisbon (Portugal).
3.3. Specific examples of actions from
the field
In this section of the report, real life examples of projects financed by the European
Structural Funds are tabled, showing how local initiatives, all of which are different and
almost unique, are able to rely on EU funding to develop and achieve their goals.
81	http://www.scml.pt/.
The Santa Casa da Misericordia de Lisboa (SCML) and the Banco de Inovação Social (BIS)
The SCML is one of the oldest and most important private charities in Portugal. It was founded in
1498 as the first coherent social care system in Lisbon. In the 18th century, the Queen granted the SCML the right
to run the first lottery in Portugal. Since the state granted the concession for lotteries in Portugal to the SCML, which
uses its proceeds to finance the SCML’s activities, the concession and activity is highly regulated.
The BIS, which also means ‘twice’ in Portuguese, is an informal, collaborative, and open platform, not an official
institution. It seeks to use social innovation as a tool to introduce systemic change in society at all levels: institutions,
economy, education, culture.
Portugal has to restore economic growth, employment, and make long-term structural reforms at all levels, but
especially at institutional and economic levels (public sector, public services, competition, etc.).
To help address this challenge, and even though its action is limited to Lisbon, the SCML opens up to the world,
collects best practices and collaborates with other institutions in the country and abroad to introduce change.
The SCML started its BIS programme about a year ago by inviting 26 other institutions to contribute their assets
(knowledge, experience, funds, people, etc.) to the BIS project and bring social innovation to Portugal. The first
institutions to be invited were the government itself, municipalities, universities, etc. to address all kinds of societal
needs in Portugal.
These new forms of governance (collaborative, informal platforms or programmes) are believed to be the best way
to foster social innovation. By bringing people and institutions together and work collaboratively, it will show people
in Portugal how to govern in a different way.
To support and promote creativity, a call for ideas has been launched, where ideas can be debated. Many people
have already sent ideas to address social needs. Social experimentation was also implemented (a current example is
the United at Work project, an innovative way to address senior and junior unemployment through intergenerational
entrepreneurship). TheBISalsopromotessocialbusinessbybringingtogetherpeoplewhohaveinterestsinsustainable
business. There is also an ongoing workstream on education, in schools, and a creativity competition was held in about
250 schools.
A social investment fund is being launched, which is necessary and the main current concern for the BIS. A key
obstacle is the lack of Portuguese legislation in this area so far, in spite of the EU initiative.
43P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
3.3.1. Social inclusion
Large sections of the European population are excluded from the benefits of economic
and social progress. The different forms of disadvantage related to educational attainment,
gender, age, physical status or ethnic background have been exacerbated by the
crisis. Among them, blindness is a disability subject to specific constraints, as explained
in the example below.
3.3.2. Migration
In recent years, population movements, especially immigration from non-European areas,
have become a more sensitive issue in the EU. Beyond the economic impact this may
have, the immigration that European countries have to cope with creates many social
issues. Due to their complexity, the human dimension which is still theirs, and their local
specificity, some of these situations have to be handled through practices that often
involve social innovation.
I-Cane: Mobility solutions for blind and visually impaired people for global use
Today Europe counts approximately 13 million blind and visual impaired people, who rely on ‘old fashioned’ aids,
e.g. the white cane and guide dogs. The traditional solutions do not offer navigation outside the memory constrained
zone. This enforces the social and economic isolation of this fast growing population of which the majority is over
50 years of age.
Developing high-tech solutions for a group of people with both limited financial means and also working with a user
volume considerably lower than the requirements of high volume electronics manufacturers is not an easy market
choice, it needed a particular approach. In 2004 the I-Cane foundation was initiated. Through this foundation
funds were raised from charities and the public sector (province of Limburg NL and the EU ERDF fund) to execute
a feasibility study and to deliver the proof of principle demonstration. In 2008 I-Cane succeeded in navigating a
blind person on an unfamiliar route without hitting obstacles. In this demonstration invented by I-Cane, tactile
human-machine interface also demonstrated its value since test persons were still able to listen to the environment
parallel to receiving instructions via their fingers, a unique human-machine interface.
From 2008 the social enterprise I-Cane Social Technology BV continued the work of the I-Cane foundation. A
development time of 5-8 years must be expected for mobility tools for disabled people but is unattractive for those
who seek a quick return on investment. Via support from the Social Economy network in the Netherlands, Belgium
and Germany, the funds were raised to meet the matching requirements of EU ERDF (OP Zuid) and national grant
arrangements.
Today this combination of public and private funding has resulted in an Euregion based platform of SMEs, with
European-wide knowledge institutes (such as the University of Delft, RWTH, Fraunhofer IPT, IMEC, TNO, ESA/Estec)
and end cross-border user organisations, led by I-Cane Social Technology BV and the I-Cane Foundation. In 2012
the first large-scale tests with I-Cane systems started, followed by a market introduction in 2013.
The I-Cane case demonstrates the combination of funding, close user interaction and cooperation between social
enterprises and knowledge institutes can deliver world-class break-out solutions.
Public sector innovation – immigration policy in Portugal
Towards the end of the 20th century Portugal’s immigrant population doubled within a few years, and most of
the new arrivals were not Portuguese speakers and had no historical links with this country. For the first time,
public administration experienced considerable difficulty in communicating with the immigrant population and
understanding their needs. At the same time, large migrant populations had to cope with the challenge of social
integration in an unknown linguistic, cultural and bureaucratic setting.
44 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.3.3. Urban regeneration
Most cities in Europe have poor communities living in difficult environments. Over the
past 20 years, the ERDF has financed integrated approaches to urban regeneration linking
economic, social and environmental aspects. In the 1990s, the Community-led Economic
Development priorities in the disadvantaged neighbourhoods of the UK were at
the forefront. In the 2000s, Germany was a leading practitioner.
This major shift catalysed the Portuguese one-stop-shop approach in immigration policy and the National Immigrant
Support Centres (CNAI) were opened to the public in 2004. The centres responded to a number of challenges identified
by migrant clients by providing various immigration-related services in one space, applying an identical working
philosophy, and working in cooperation. Indeed, participation is the core of innovation at the CNAIs in addition to
the integrated service delivery. The implementation of the one-stop-shop approach was based on the incorporation
of intercultural mediators in public administration service provision, who play a central role in service provision
because of cultural and linguistic proximity to the service-users and facilitate interaction between state services
and the immigrant population by forming an integral part of the procedures of Office of the High Commissioner for
Immigration and Intercultural Dialogue (ACIDI). Intercultural mediators usually come from immigrant communities
themselves and speak fluent Portuguese as well as at least one other language. Following training and an exam,
they are employed by certified immigrant associations, which receive grants from ACIDI. The certified associations
participate in the definition of immigration policy, immigration regulation processes and consultative councils.
ACIDI invests in the empowerment of immigrant leaders through training for immigrant association leaders, in
partnership with universities. The mediators also play a fundamental role as integration outreach workers. Because
they are immigrants themselves and normally reside in migrant neighbourhoods, they disseminate information
about the rights and duties of immigrants in Portugal even outside the one-stop-shop building, reaching places and
persons that the public administration would never reach if it never left its headquarters and operated exclusively
through public servants.
The State of North Rhine-Westphalia ‘Socially Integrative City’ programme: supporting
neighbourhood renewal
Since 1999, the government of North Rhine Westphalia has been developing integrated policies to support 80
neighbourhood regeneration programmes in cities within its State. An Integrated Local Action Plan (LAP) outlines
how the development, reorganisation and upgrading of an area is to take place. The approach is decentralised with
clear responsibilities for each level.
•	 55 Municipalities are responsible for the preparation and implementation of the LAP, applying for funding and
ensuring the neighbourhood plan meets the needs of the city as a whole.
•	 The district governments (regional administration units of the federal State level of NRW) advise the
municipalities on funding matters and authorise payments.
•	 The federal State ministry for urban development arranges and controls the programme and commissions
evaluations.
•	 The EU provides funding through the ESF and ERDF operational programmes.
In addition, there are private housing and retail companies involved as well as foundations, welfare organisations
and other stakeholders.
The neighbourhood management offices work on a wide range of tasks which include stimulating networking;
promoting a changed image of the neighbourhood; supporting bargaining processes; setting up communication
structures; informing the population and administration; organising offers of cultural activities; promoting the local
economy; forming a link between the neighbourhood, city and other levels of decision-making; and developing
projects.
A disposition fund (form of participatory budgeting) made up of 5 euro contributions per inhabitant finances smallscale
projects decided by a local citizens’ body. These projects have an immediate impact such as neighbourhood
parties, tree-planting in a school yard and outings for children whose parents cannot normally afford them.
45P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
3.3.4. Health and ageing
The European Commission has identified active and healthy ageing as a major societal
challenge common to all European countries, and an area which presents considerable
potential for Europe to lead the world in providing innovative responses to this challenge.
The Innovation Union strategy addresses the health and ageing issue by aiming to enhance
European competitiveness and tackle societal challenges through research and
innovation.
One way to achieve this is through Innovation Partnerships, fostering an integrated approach.
Their unique strength is that they will address weaknesses in the European
research and innovation system (notably, under-investment, conditions which are not
sufficiently innovation-friendly, and fragmentation and duplication), which considerably
complicate the discovery or exploitation of knowledge and, in many cases, ultimately
prevent the entry of innovations into the market place.
The European Innovation Partnership on Active and Healthy Ageing pursues a triple win
for Europe:
1.	 enabling EU citizens to lead healthy, active and independent lives while ageing;
2.	 improving the sustainability and efficiency of social and health care systems;
3.	 boosting and improving the competitiveness of the markets for innovative products
and services, responding to the ageing challenge at both EU and global level, thus
creating new opportunities for businesses.
This is to be realised in the three areas of prevention and health promotion, care and
cure, and active and the independent living of elderly people. The overarching target of
this partnership will be to increase the average healthy lifespan by two years by 2020.
The ERDF is another answer to the challenge of active and healthy ageing, as illustrated
by Finland, which has used this fund to co-finance a living lab focused on health and
welfare services.
The Living Lab Testing Process is a systematic and concrete tool, which contributes to
the development of user-driven innovations and enhances cooperation between municipalities
and business. The new cooperation Model improves business opportunities for
companies and attracts new companies to the area. It enhances innovation and economic
development strategies in a concrete way.
The Living Lab on Wellbeing Services and Technology, a social innovation that produces
user-driven innovations
This Living Lab was a finalist of the RegioStars 2013 competition. It is an innovation platform that enables a new
way of producing services for elderly people in a functional Public-Private-People partnership. Users participate
actively in product development, service design and usability testing processes. The testing of welfare services and
technologies takes place in real life contexts, in elderly people’s homes and service homes.
The new collaborative structure consists of different stakeholders such as municipalities, suppliers, citizens, the third
sector, universities, regional developers, specialists, financiers and regional, national and international networks.
The created concept has increased trust between the actors.
46 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.3.5. Social innovation and the environment
Social innovation can tackle environmental challenges82
and is proving popular in this
domain. There are a number of environmental drivers that are already instigating social
innovations such as waste issues, transport and pollution problems, as well as declines
in biodiversity and degradation of ecosystem services, for example, flood protection
through wetlands. Although these drivers are environmental, they have social repercussions,
such as health problems caused by air pollution, resource depletion due to
inefficient waste disposal, exacerbation of flooding from damage to natural defences
and food insecurity and agricultural issues exacerbated by poor soil quality or lack of
pollination. In other words, societal and environmental issues are often interlinked and
mutual solutions are possible. Some examples of forms of environmental social innovation
include wood recycling social enterprises, organic gardening cooperatives, low-impact
housing developments, farmers’ markets, car-sharing schemes, renewable energy
cooperatives and community composting schemes.83
In some sectors social innovation can shape technology, as evidenced by the grassroots
entrepreneurs and do-it-yourself builders of wind turbines and solar collectors
in Denmark and Austria respectively.84
These socially innovative groups instigated the
commercial development of these technologies and continue to influence their design as
they become more mainstream.
The application of local knowledge via community and social action can create adaptive
and flexible solutions that are appropriate to solving environmental problems. The
SPREAD Sustainable Lifestyles 2050 project85
was a European social platform that invited
a range of stakeholders to participate in the development of a vision for sustainable
lifestyles by 2050. In its research it identified social innovators as one of the
gatekeepers that can enable the shift towards more sustainable lifestyles. It proposed
that the intentional and voluntary effort of social innovations to change lifestyles is an
indispensable bottom-up driver for change, as they often champion new and promising
behaviour. As such, it suggested that social innovations should be given the opportunity
to test small-scale initiatives, which could be scaled up into large-scale sustainable
solutions and participate in planning and decision-making.
The SPREAD project also highlighted the important role of social innovation and the supportive
function of policy. It used scenarios and backcasting to outline a number of policy
implications and recommendations on facilitating social innovation in this area. More
generally the report suggested the need for an open transparent governance system
with local participation to create ownership of decisions and ensure implementation.
82	cf. http://ec.europa.eu/environment/integration/research/newsalert/pdf/IR10.pdf.
83	cf. Seyfang & Smith, 2007.
84	cf. Ornetzeder & Rohracher, 2013.
85	http://www.sustainable-lifestyles.eu/publications/publications.html.
Policy implications and recommendations on supporting social innovation to achieve
sustainable living from the SPREAD project
•	 Using effective policy instruments, which could include regulation, economic incentives and public participation.
•	 Acknowledging that one size will not fit all. Instead, allowing for combinations or hybrid models and accepting
provisions for dynamic structures that allow for change in order to fit the diversity of contexts across Europe.
47P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
Finally, one of the inputs of the SPREAD project was to underline that social innovation can
complement technological innovation and policymaking to achieve systemic, long-lasting
changes in lifestyles and society to tackle environmental issues. When citizens and communities
instigate change themselves and develop the innovation, it is more likely to be
successful and endure.
3.3.6. Regional strategies
Regional strategies that incorporate social innovation are only beginning to emerge.
Many French regions already integrate social innovation in some form in their strategies
for innovation and economic development, as a recent survey from Avise and the ARF86
shows. Most of them consider social innovation to be linked to the social economy and/
or work organisation, but it also combines various forms of incubation, co-creation with
citizens, initiatives in the health and care sector.
86	Association des Régions de France (http://www.arf.asso.fr/).
Basque Country: Social innovation linked to the regional innovation strategy
The Basque Country is a good example of how a region can use a wide range of approaches to achieve social
innovation. Innobasque is a non-profit private company created in 2007 to coordinate and promote innovation across
the Basque Country. It acts as a regional innovation partnership. The Board brings together 57 leading actors from
the region. It includes the rectors of the three universities, the chief executive of the cooperative group Mondragon,
representatives from three ministries as well as chief executives from leading enterprises in the region.
Innobasque works at the policy level on many aspects of technological innovation but also brings in the general public
through reflection groups and workshops such as its world café events, which focus on ways to promote societal
transformations. The OECD has described Innobasque as leading work on social innovation and fostering collaborative
action and joint research in the region. It is also exploring strategies to support the creation of new social firms (work
integration social enterprises).
Examples of the achievements of this public-private partnership include:
•	 Lifelong learning via a participatory process with citizens.
•	 Social contract for housing: participatory process with public and private agents defining housing policy for the
next 15 years.
•	 City XXI: Engagement on how a 21st
century city could be developed, its urban planning and its values.
•	 Ageing and new in-house services to help people to live in at home as they get older with a good quality of life
and services.
•	 Social contract for immigration involving all organisations and institutions to achieve a social contract for coexistence.
•	 Up-scaling promising practices like Transition Towns, cycling cities, local currency systems, car sharing, and
neighbourhood gardening. Providing institutional support to those initiatives, as well as to social entrepreneurs.
•	 Facilitating breakthrough and creative thinking by establishing free thinking ‘designLabs’ which are physical and
intellectual spaces that encourage and facilitate cooperation and the co-creation of meaningful and innovative
solutions to complex problems.
•	 Providing opportunities for societal actors, businesses and policymakers to leave their own ‘comfort zone’ and
experiment and test new solutions in collaborative, open-sourced platforms.
•	 Creating partnerships with other sectors, such as the health sector, to change environments into those facilitating
more active and healthy lifestyles.
48 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
3.3.7. Lessons learned from social innovation achievements
The abovementioned examples illustrate how social innovation works and succeeds in various
areas in different European countries. What further lessons can we draw? The answer
could be summarised in an important contribution aimed at understanding how social
innovations grow at local level and how they contribute to changing local welfare systems.
These issues are illustrated by 77 case studies in a 400-page e-book on Social Innovations
for social cohesion: Transnational patterns and approaches from 20 European cities, developed
as part of the WILCO project.87
87	http://www.wilcoproject.eu.
Summary of the main findings of the WILCO project
Innovations in services to address users
The majority of the social innovations identified in the survey as important and promising are service innovations. The
main differences between the service innovations analysed in the WILCO project and services established in the post-war
welfare traditions or the more recent managerial culture of public and private services are the following:
•	 investing in capabilities rather than spotting deficits;
•	 preference for open approaches, avoiding targeting with stigmatising effects;
•	 service offers that connect otherwise separated forms of support and access, allowing for personalised bundles
of support;
•	 creating flexible forms of ad hoc support;
•	 developing offers that meet newly emerging risks, beyond fixed social and participation rights and entitlements;
and
•	 working through ‘social contracts’ with individuals and groups.
Innovations in modes of working and financing
While this is in itself banal, it represents quite a challenge when it comes to disentangling what is ‘innovative’ about a
project and development and what is just an effect of the deconstruction of or regression in existing welfare models
and regulations. The kinds of arrangement for cooperation in social innovations are much more diversified than in the
public or business sector, including not only various forms of casual paid cooperation but also many forms of voluntary
and civic contributions, ranging from short-term activism to regular unpaid volunteering with a long-term perspective,
and from ‘hands-on’ volunteer work to constant inputs by civic engagement in a board. Therefore, from what is reported
on the various social innovations, one gets the impression that working fields are taking shape here that are innovative
in two respects. First, they are innovative because they balance very different arrangements for networking, paid work,
volunteering and civic engagement. And secondly, it is at least remarkably new to see how much the demarcation lines
between those who operate inside the organisation and those that get addressed as co-producers are often blurred (e.g.
innovations in housing and neighbourhood revitalisation).
Innovations concerning the entity of (local) welfare systems
One of the aims offset by the EU authorities for the WILCO project was to look at the possible contributions of social
innovations to changes and developments in local welfare systems. Speaking about a welfare system usually means
including, besides the local welfare state/the municipality, the welfare-related roles and responsibilities of the third
sector, the market sector and the community and family sphere. The cases of social innovations studied bear testimony
to the mutual relations that exist between all of these four components of a (local) welfare system.
In conclusion, one of the central messages of these case studies on local social innovations is that they are the opposite of
quick-fix solutions; using their full potential requires nothing less than a combination of ‘the deep strategies of chess masters
with the quick tactics of acrobats’. The lifecycles of social innovations (processes of emergence, stabilisation and scaling up)
are very conditional and are not available simply at the press of a button.
49P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
3.4. Social entrepreneurship to revive
the social economy
Beyond the priority measures in its short-term action plan, the Social Business Initiative
(SBI) has engendered powerful and sustained momentum for social entrepreneurship.
One of the most iconic stages of this phenomenon was an unprecedented event held
jointly by the European Economic and Social Committee (EESC), the European Commission
and the city of Strasbourg88
on 16 and 17 January 2014. More than 2000 social entrepreneurs
and supporters representing the rich diversity of the social economy came
together to affirm that social enterprises must play a bigger role in the future of Europe
and to identify new ways of boosting the sector. They called for new, innovative funding
sources, business support, networking, and clearer EU-wide regulations.
The event concluded with the Strasbourg Declaration, a milestone that covered a wide
range of areas where social entrepreneurs want to see further changes:
88	http://ec.europa.eu/internal_market/conferences/2014/0116-social-entrepreneurs/index_en.htm.
‘A call to action to realise the potential of social enterprise
Governments and public bodies have started to recognise the power of social entrepreneurship. Steps are being
taken in many Member States and regions to encourage the growth of social enterprises.  At EU level, the SBI has
made a positive start in promoting eco-systems for social enterprises but we must not lose momentum. Therefore,
1. The EU must follow through on all the actions in the SBI. It should develop a second phase of the SBI that broadens
its scope, deepens its partnership with Member States, regional and local authorities, civil society organisations and
key players in the ecosystem.
2. The European Economic and Social Committee, the next European Commission (with a dedicated inter-service
structure) and the next European Parliament must take full ownership and deliver on the actions suggested in
Strasbourg.
3. There must be a stronger engagement at EU, national, regional and local levels with the social enterprise
community in the co-creation of new policies to support social enterprise, suited to the local context.
4. The Commission must ensure that its commitment to create an ecosystem for social enterprise is mainstreamed
in its policies.
5. In partnership with the social enterprise sector, Member States, regional and local authorities must fully support
the growth of social enterprises and help them build capacity. For example through legal frameworks, access to
finance, business start-up and development support, training and education and public procurement.
6. The European institutions and Member States should reinforce the role of social enterprises in structural reforms
to exit the crisis, notably where the social economy is less developed.
7. The Commission, the Member States and regions must boost cooperation between social enterprises across
borders and boundaries, to share knowledge and practices. Similarly, all public authorities should cooperate better
between themselves and enhance their capacity to support social enterprise growth.
8. Public and private players must develop a full range of suitable financial instruments and intermediaries that
support social enterprises throughout their lifecycle.
9. Social enterprise still needs further research and national statistical collection for a better understanding,
recognition and visibility of the sector, both among policymakers and the general public.
10. In this new Europe, all players need to look at growth and value creation from a wider perspective, by including
social indicators and demonstrating positive social impact when reporting social and economic progress.
50 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
The EESC was committed to the organisation of the Strasbourg event and is actively
involved in social entrepreneurship through a substantial number of opinions and the
Social Enterprise Project. Pursuing its interest, it has launched Make it happen, a new
project designed to keep the Strasbourg Declaration alive by promoting policy directions
and concrete actions to be forwarded to the new Commission and Parliament in Autumn
2014. Nine EESC members are directly involved in Make it happen through actions that
involve strengthened cooperation with social enterprise supporters, the participation of
the project group members in European events, and the consultation and involvement of
various social economy stakeholders and supporters of social enterprise.
To further unlock the potential of this sector, the EESC has called for a more supportive
environment for social enterprises and for their better integration into all EU policies. It
believes that partnerships with regional and local authorities, as well as social entrepreneurs
themselves, will play an important role.
The main actions points guiding the Social Enterprise Project are therefore as follows:
1.	 Co-creation of new policies to support social enterprise
2.	 Partnership to support social enterprises
3.	 Development of a second phase of the SBI.
Following an ongoing local strategy, the Social Enterprise Project is also taking part in local
events spread around Europe to conduct fact-findings missions, collect best practices
and investigate policy ideas and recommendations for the EU institutions.
4. Conclusion: scanning
the future to shape
the future
‘Europe has a head-start. It is ideally placed to take a lead and capture
first-mover benefits when it comes to implementing social innovations by
pro-actively and effectively trying to fully (and fairly) realise both economic
and societal benefits. With its strong legacy in social democracy,
solidarity, civic participation, justice and fairness, Europe arguably constitutes
especially fertile grounds when it comes to sustainably enabling
and growing social innovation.’89
Not only does the EU undoubtedly offer fertile ground for social innovation but, as a
good gardener, it has taken good care of it, by nurturing it adequately. In 2010, in the
first BEPA report, barriers and challenges to social innovation were identified according
to the scope and level of ambition of the innovations: responding to social demands,
societal challenges or engaging systemic change. Going systematically through the barriers
identified then, it seems that a large number of them have either been or are being
addressed effectively through EU policies. Milestones have been reached for instance
with respect to the availability of funding for social entrepreneurs (e.g. EuSEF, EaSI,
public procurement, crowdfunding). Progress is being made through innovative financial
schemes, the interest of a large community of financial actors and a wide-ranging
and active debate (within GECES, G8, etc.) on the establishment of a methodology to
measure the impact of social enterprises on the creation of socio-economic benefits and
their benefit for the community; the development of hubs is securing seed funding to
promote and test pilot cases; networks of hubs should facilitate the building of ecosystems
and the harnessing of contributions to expansion capital from a variety of sources.
The Social Business Initiative has also addressed the question of the status of social
enterprises (mapping) and the idea that innovations have ‘social’ roots is progressing
among mainstream innovation corporations and public and private stakeholders. This
was particularly clear during the annual EU Innovation Convention 2014.90
As a result, the EU landscape for social innovation is less fragmented today; it is generally
more visible and the programmes, initiatives and instruments created recently have
considerably contributed to setting up aspects of a European-wide ecosystem.
89	http://ec.europa.eu/regional_policy/sources/docgener/presenta/social_innovation/social_innovation_2013.pdf.
90	http://ec.europa.eu/research/innovation-union/ic2014/index_en.cfm.
52 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
Nevertheless, as underlined by the OECD, EU policy could gain in coherence: One example
lies in the fact that one of the most powerful instruments to address issues related to
social innovation, the ERDF and territorial and cohesion policy, makes no direct reference
to it. Also, Social entrepreneurs and actors of social innovation who gathered in Strasbourg
saw this event as a beginning and not an end. Michel Barnier, the Commissioner
responsible for the Single Market, confirmed that this should become a regular event.
Moreover, prospective studies recently published on the future of Europe in the medium
term are proving to be valuable lessons on the path that lies ahead for Europe to take
full advantage of its actions to promote social innovation.
Europe’s Societal Challenges
A major source of inspiration comes from the report prepared by RAND Europe entitled
Europe’s Societal Challenges,91
and commissioned by ESPAS.92
It acknowledges the
many challenges facing the EU and suggests ways to mitigate current downward trends.
According to the report, the world in 2030 could be characterised by the following significant
changes.
91	http://europa.eu/espas/pdf/espas-report-societal-trends.pdf.
92	European Strategy and Policy Analysis System (http://europa.eu/espas/).
Regarding demographic change
•	 The world’s population will be more urbanised: for the first time in history, more than 50 % of the population will
live in urban zones. Specifically, about 80 % of European society will live in cities, which will become increasingly
important actors.
•	 We will also observe further ageing of the world’s population. This trend is already apparent in Europe and it will be
the region with the highest average age globally. European population ageing will have direct consequences for the
working population and social welfare systems, health services and pensions in terms of demand and expenditure.
Regarding immigration patterns
•	 Immigration patterns will change, becoming more inter-regional (south-south rather than south-north). However,
Europe will continue to be a destination region for its neighbouring regions.
Regarding the growing middle class and the empowerment of individuals
•	 The growing middle class will be a structural change in the world to come. The global middle class will increase
from 1.8 billion in 2009 to 5 billion in 2030.
•	 Gender equality and the empowerment of women will improve as a result of more egalitarian access to education
and the role of technology. Greater access to further education is likely to drive and be influenced by increased
individual empowerment. This in turn may generate greater support for increasing gender equality and the empowerment
of women.
•	 Poverty will fall globally and so will inequalities and access to wealth among states. However, there is a risk
that inequalities among citizens/individuals will increase in terms of revenue, especially in Europe and the
United States.
•	 The internet divide will persist within and between countries – in terms of access to networks and the internet.
This means that technological development could potentially accelerate socio-economic inequalities between
individuals/countries, since it essentially benefits the highly qualified, the connected and those in the higher
income groups.
53P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
These scenarios, should they materialise, would be accompanied by an undoubted political
impact, which may be presented as a complex picture of paradoxes:
yy In an increasingly complex world, there is an increasing loss of confidence in the institutions
and an increasing aversion to risk. This could translate into a crisis of political
action linked to the lack of understanding of global complexities among citizens.
yy A steady fall in confidence in public action and in political engagement ­­– be it at
national or EU level – which could, once again, be exacerbated by the role of technology
and access to unverified information.
yy The advance of technology leads to a plethora of actors, just as much as it does to
new ways of relating to each other (as groups or as citizens), individualistic tendencies
(countering the formation of groups) and the radicalisation of society.
yy Arguably, the pressures described above will call for substantial efforts in the field of
social innovation. Yet, innovation may be slowed down by a culture of risk aversion.
yy The interaction of the widening skills gap, digital divide and unequal benefits of
technological innovations could lead to a vicious cycle for vulnerable groups, such as
young people, the older poor, low-skilled workers, migrants and their children.
So what future for Europe and which solutions?
RAND Europe suggests four very interesting routes to explore:
yy Preparing a new growth paradigm, focused on the wellbeing of citizens while offering
opportunities for business to thrive: Europe’s economy is expected to continue
its decline, and policymakers should focus on a ‘new growth paradigm’ centred on
society, not growth. Instead of focusing efforts on creating wealth, European nations
are advised to prioritise the health of societies. The successor of the current Europe
Regarding the rise in inequality leading to vulnerability
•	 Across the spectrum of expected problems is a surge in inequality. While inequalities between European countries
are decreasing, within countries they are rising.
•	 Earnings/gains from productivity growth tend to be heavily concentrated among high-income workers. At the
same time, projections suggest a considerable surplus of low-skilled workers, which could lead to long-term and
permanent joblessness among young people without secondary training and older workers who cannot retrain
to meet requirements for new skills. As a consequence of this skills mismatch, income inequality is projected to
expand.
Regarding quick technological development
•	 The development of new technologies will continue right through to 2030. Innovation will continue to depend on
R&D investment, which should continue to increase in advanced economies and to further develop in China. In
Europe, however, R&D expenses will decrease notably because of the increase in China, even if the 2020 objectives
are met.
•	 In order to stimulate innovation, more than one source of funding is needed: education, cooperation among universities,
business, and financial institutions organised around innovation ecosystems will be important.
•	 Innovation will also depend on the social and political organisation of society: democracy and open societies seem
to favour innovation. There seems to be a circular relationship here, since innovation (particularly the development
of technology) will also change the way citizens are organised.
54 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
2020 Strategy should aim to invest in human capital and avoid sluggish productivity
growth, achieved at the expense of social inclusion, public health, education
and skills, security or freedom. This will include improving the innovative capacity of
SMEs; bridging the digital divide between Member States; matching migrant skills to
the labour market, as well as those of the young unemployed.
yy Investing in citizens, including protecting the most vulnerable: Aside from fixing the
economy, the report argues that the real challenge for European policymakers will
be to break the trend of rising poverty risks, increasing income inequality and longterm
unemployment without relying on economic growth as a panacea. Investing in
health and education, preferably as early as possible (e.g. through early childhood
education and care interventions) will help reduce costs in the long term, avoid exclusion,
and equip citizens with the skills that are in demand in the labour market.
There is also a need to bridge the gender gap and address inequalities in access to
technology.
yy Adapting public sector and government institutions to the 21st
century: This includes
mitigating increasing pressure on the affordability of welfare states, particularly
health and pensions.
yy Bringing citizens back into the European project: A serious and long-term effort is
required from the EU institutions and its Member States to support the development
of a European identity from the earliest age – a sense of belonging that would
reinforce a sense of solidarity and loyalty to democratic ideals. Several EU policies
that deal with employment, education, health and technological development could
be used for this purpose. Similarly, more transparency in decision-making processes
and structural/institutional reforms that recognise the emergence of new actors/
stakeholders on the scene (NGOs, civil society, business associations, etc.) and new
forms of communication will be necessary.
What will social enterprise look like in Europe by 2020?
The second of the aforementioned studies is the British Council’s ‘think piece’,93
commissioned
to contribute to the previously mentioned Strasbourg event. It provides a basis
for discussing what will shape social innovation and the growth of social enterprises in
the near future.
How will social enterprise respond to economic conditions, social and environmental
challenges, government policies, technology and investment over the next years? Social
enterprises are on the rise throughout the EU, with governments and investors increasingly
recognising the sector as a valid alternative to both private and public sector busi-
ness.
By 2020, associations and charities will be part of the ‘social enterprise spectrum’, generating
most of their income through trading activities. Enterprises from the private sector
will have to demonstrate their credentials, and could be better at this than traditional
social enterprises. Public, private and social economy organisations will be encouraged
by investors, funders, and governments to produce social value results in the long
93	cf. Mark Richardson, Richard Catherall ­– What will social enterprise look like in Europe by 2020? ­– British
Council, January 2014.
http://www.britishcouncil.org/sites/britishcouncil.uk2/files/what_will_social_enterprise_look_like_in_europe_
by_2020_0.pdf.
55P A R T I – S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N , A N E W P A T H
term. As a consequence, social impact measurement and comparison (covering economic,
environmental and social issues) will become mainstream in the social economy.
From grants to investment: one of the most important drivers will be the development
of the social finance sector. The traditional model of foundations will become outdated
since more and more enterprises will try to maximise their social impact while
delivering a financial return. Hybrid models of social investment (Social Investment
Bonds, Social Impact Bonds) will emphasise new tools (‘investment readiness’, ‘impact
reporting’) with two consequences: pressure on investors to consider social impact in
investments and growing involvement of social enterprises on financial services delivery.
But the context will also be constraining: new national and EU funding priorities could
exclude innovative social investments; innovative social enterprises will have to make
an international impact thanks to social franchising.
Complex networks: social enterprises will be more concerned with the importance of
their impact (through changing government practices and business, through developing
effective solutions that work). This consciousness will result in highly networked micro-social
enterprises. Social entrepreneurs will be connected with micro-social structures
and work with public, charitable, academic and profit-oriented sectors. Thus, this
collaborative approach (crowdsourcing, funding, etc.) will be an interesting alternative
to traditional political investment. Indeed, effective social enterprises will be considered
as models and will spread more rapidly than classical mechanisms (e.g., social
franchising). And European funding will encourage this kind of collaboration across international
boundaries.
The way forward
The European Union is at a decisive moment in its history in terms of the policies it
intends to take tomorrow and the future it wants to design. With reference to social
innovation, we are not yet in midstream. Over the past five years, we have seen how
awareness has grown; how experiments have developed and how policies have begun
to assist and foster this trend. With regard to the outcomes, expectations that have
emerged and changes that could occur in Europe in the coming years, we need to measure
the distance still to go to achieve the major challenge of social innovation and move
beyond the expanding myriad of small initiatives and projects with limited results – as
successful as they are – to achieve a real systemic change that puts social innovation at
the heart of all processes and policies.
From where we stand today, building on the gains that have already been made and
in addition to the abovementioned suggestions from RAND Europe, we believe that the
following three key areas for reflection, exploration and action should be prioritised and
explored.
Improve governance in relation to social innovation
In this field, the levers for improvement and action mainly concern the following three
areas: globally speaking, a wider, more permanent support for the role of the public
sector (at European, national, regional and local level) in terms of innovation, especially
social innovation; fostering the link between social innovation and the private sector, in
particular by improving framework conditions to enable the development of enduring
partnerships; making corporate social responsibility a systematic and essential element
of analysis and operating mode of all businesses.
56 S O C I A L I N N O V A T I O N – A D E C A D E O F C H A N G E S
Clearly, to reach these goals, the European Commission should keep improving synergies
between its different services.
Focus on knowledge
Improvements in recent years to impact measurement and mapping have demonstrated
their value. Today we should continue in this direction and further enrich knowledge in
these two areas of research. Other hitherto unexplored areas deserve to be investigated,
especially the interactions between social innovation and health. Research on social
innovation must continue to move forward, in order to test new models, focus on best
practices or favour bottom-up approaches. Finally, the growing role of information and
communication technologies (ICT) in social innovation should be better incorporated in
the way we understand and treat this topic.
Support, encourage and improve the business environment
The Single Market Act (I & II) and the Social Business Initiative have already made
many improvements for European businesses that want to promote or participate in
social innovation. All possibilities for going further in this direction should be explored
and exploited: improve regulations in this field, mainly with regard to accessing finance;
encouraging partnerships to support social innovation; using public procurements as a
genuine social policy instrument; and developing a second phase of the Social Business
Initiative.
Ultimately, the addition of these initiatives, the effect of these policies and the gradual
(possibly irreversible) evolution in the way we look at social innovation could lead to side
effects of unexpected magnitude.
yy What is at stake is the ongoing struggle against inequality. We see that it continues
to rise and tomorrow it may be even more central to the issues that European policies
will have to face and fight.
yy What is also at stake is the emergence of a different conception of the economy, a
shared economy that is not focused exclusively on growth.
yy Finally, empowering the citizen remains at the very heart of social innovation issues.
This fundamental issue cannot be ignored by European policies.
3 Inequalities in Education
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Non-Roma students in hungary, and its potential causes. Available at: http://
www.econ.core.hu/file/download/bwp/bwp1401.pdf.
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165
3.1 On the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students
in Hungary and its potential causes
166
BUDAPEST WORKING PAPERS ON THE LABOUR MARKET
BWP – 2014/1
On the test score gap between
Roma and non-Roma students in Hungary
and its potential causes
GÁBOR KERTESI - GÁBOR KÉZDI
INSTITUTE OF ECONOMICS, CENTRE FOR ECONOMIC AND REGIONAL STUDIES
HUNGARIAN ACADEMY OF SCIENCES
DEPARTMENT OF HUMAN RESOURCES, CORVINUS UNIVERSITY OF BUDAPEST
BUDAPEST, 2014
Budapest Working Papers on the Labour Market
BWP – 2014/1
Institute of Economics, Centre for Economic and Regional Studies,
Hungarian Academy of Sciences
Department of Human Resources, Corvinus University of Budapest
On the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students
in Hungary and its potential causes
Authors:
Gábor Kertesi
senior research fellow
Institute of Economics
Centre for Economic and Regional Studies
Hungarian Academy of Sciences
email: kertesi.gabor@krtk.mta.hu
Gábor Kézdi
associate professor
Central European University
senior research fellow
Institute of Economics
Centre for Economic and Regional Studies
Hungarian Academy of Sciences
email: kezdig@ceu.hu
January 2014
ISBN 978 615 5447 11 2
ISSN 1785 3788
On the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma
students in Hungary and its potential causes
Gábor Kertesi - Gábor Kézdi
Abstract
Using unique data from Hungary, we assess the gap in standardized test scores between Roma
and non-Roma students and show that this gap is comparable to the size of the Black-White test
score gap in the United States in the 1980s. The ethnic test score gap in Hungary is nearly
entirely explained by social differences in income, wealth and parental education, while ethnic
factors do not play an important role. Using reduced-form regressions, we identify two major
mediating mechanisms: first, the home environment of Roma children is less favorable for their
cognitive development; second, Roma children face a lower quality educational environment.
Comparing children with similar home environments from the same school and class, we find
that the ethnic gap in test scores is insignificant. Ethnic differences in the home environment are
explained by social differences, and ethnicity seems to play no additional role. While their
disadvantage in accessing high-quality education is also strongly related to social differences,
Roma students seem to face additional disadvantages as subjects of ethnic segregation. The
results suggest that in addition to policies designed to alleviate poverty, well-designed
interventions influencing these mechanisms can also improve the skill development of Roma
and other disadvantaged children.
Keywords: test score gap, Roma minority, Hungary
JEL classification: I20, J15
4
A roma és nem roma tanulók teszteredményei közti
különbségekről és e különbségek okairól
Kertesi Gábor - Kézdi Gábor
Összefoglaló
Tanulmányunk országosan reprezentatív adatokra támaszkodva, mérhetővé teszi a roma fiatalok
készségbeli lemaradásait, és megpróbál számot adni e lemaradások valószín űtársadalmi okairól.
A nyolcadik évfolyamos roma tanulók lemaradása, a kompetenciamérések olvasás-szövegértési
és matematikai teszteredményei alapján tekintélyes; éppen akkora, mint amekkora a hasonló
korú fehér és fekete bőrű diákok közti különbség volt az Egyesült Államokban az 1980-as
években. A lemaradások mögött nem etnikai sajátosságok, hanem társadalmi összetételbeli
(jövedelmi, iskolázottsági és lakóhelyi) különbségek állnak. A roma tanulók társadalmi hátrányai
– az egészségi állapot kisebb, de nem elhanyagolható szerepe mellett – döntőrészben két
közvetítő mechanizmuson keresztül válnak tanulmányi lemaradásokká: a roma tanulók otthoni
környezetükön belül kevésbé jutnak hozzá a készségeik fejlődéséhez fontos erőforrásokhoz,
iskolai pályafutásuk pedig rosszabb minőségű oktatási környezetben történik. A családi nevelési
környezeti hátrányokat magukat is nagyrészt az életkörülmények alakítják. Az iskolai hátrányok
nagyobb részét is az alacsony társadalmi státus magyarázza, de a roma tanulók esetében erre
még további hátrányként rárakódik az etnikai szegregáció hatása is. Az eredmények alapján a
szegénység enyhítése mellett megfelelően célzott és szervezett szakpolitikai intézkedések is
enyhíthetik szegény sorban élő roma és nem roma gyermekek lemaradását.
Tárgyszavak: teszteredmény-különbségek, roma kisebbség, Magyarország
JEL kódok: I20, J15
5
The Roma (also known as the Romani people or Gypsies) constitute one of the largest and
poorest ethnic minorities in Europe. Nearly 80 percent of Roma live in former communist
countries in East Central Europe. A recent study (FRA-UNDP, 2012) indicates that this
population faces widespread poverty and multiple disadvantages. The employment rate among
Roma aged 20 to 64 years is approximately 30 percent in most East Central European countries
(FRA-UNDP, 2012). Using multiple datasets in Hungary, Kertesi and Kézdi (2010) decompose
the employment gap between Roma and non-Roma in Hungary and find that the employment
gap is largely explained by educational differences. Although no direct evidence is currently
available on the role of skills in the employment gap between ethnic groups, skills likely play a
significant role in ethnic employment gap between ethnic groups in East Central Europe.
Understanding the extent and the origins of the gap in skills between ethnic groups is therefore
important for understanding the origins of the disadvantages faced by the Roma minority and
developing effective policies to address such disadvantages.
This study quantifies the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students in Hungary
and aims to explain this test score gap through policy-relevant factors. We focus on two major
questions: Does the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students result from ethnic
specificities of the Roma or social disadvantages? Moreover, what are the mechanisms behind
the emergence of the test score gap? A brief analysis of these questions was published in an
earlier study of ours (Kertesi and Kézdi, 2011). In this paper, we place the problem in a wider
context, examine the mediating mechanisms in detail and form appropriate policy conclusions.
The existence of a Roma – non-Roma school achievement gap frequently leads researchers to
seek an explanation related to characteristic ethnic behavior patterns. If this diagnosis were
correct, the appropriate policy response should target such characteristic ethnic behavior
patterns to "shape attitudes" and transform the "Roma mentality." If the achievement gap can be
almost entirely be explained by well-defined social differences, however, interventions intended
to transform the "characteristic mentality" are likely to be ineffective. Answering the second
question is equally important: finding that a disadvantaged family background is responsible for
skill deficits does not provide a complete explanation. Without understanding the mediating
mechanisms between poverty and low achievement, we cannot design effective policies.
This paper shows that the gap in standardized test scores in Hungary is substantial (similar
to the Black-White gap in the United States in the early 1980s) and is in large part explained by
social differences in income, wealth and parental education but that ethnic factors do not play an
important role. We examine three mechanisms in detail and find that two of them are primarily
responsible for the achievement gap between Roma and non-Roma students. Differences in
6
health seem to play a limited role in this achievement gap, but differences in the home
environment and school quality appear to be important. The home environment and parenting
practices can explain, according to our regression results, one-third to two-thirds of the test
score gap. We also show that the gap between Roma and non-Roma students attending the same
school in the same classroom is 60 percent smaller than the national gap. When comparing
children with similar home environments from the same school and class, we find that the ethnic
gap in test scores becomes insignificant. Ethnic differences in the home environment are
completely explained by social differences, and ethnicity in itself seems to play no additional
role. However, while access to higher quality schools is strongly related to social differences,
Roma students, as subjects of ethnic segregation, seem to face additional educational
disadvantages.
DATA
Standardized competence test scores and a survey with ethnic identifiers linked to these test
score data provide a unique opportunity to analyze the test score gap between Roma and nonRoma
students in Hungary. The source of these test score data is the May 2006 National
Assessment of Basic Competences (NABC), which is administered to every 8th grade elementary
school student. These administrative data cover the entire population of 8th grade students but
contain no ethnic markers. Ethnicity, together with a wealth of family background data, is
measured in a survey linked to those test scores, the Hungarian Life Course Survey (HLCS) of
the Tárki Research Institute of Hungary.
The HLCS is a panel survey that follows 10,000 youths on an annual basis, beginning in the
fall of 2006. The survey sampled regular students who participated in the NABC and special
needs students who did not participate in the NABC but who completed a simplified version of
the reading comprehension test. Students with lower test scores and special needs students are
overrepresented in the sample, and we use sampling weights throughout the analysis to restore
national representativeness.
The questions in the first wave of the HLCS in 2006 focused on the respondents' family
structure, financial situation, early childhood experiences, medical and school history and plans
for secondary school. Subsequent waves of the survey primarily concentrated on school careers
and the mechanisms underlying student dropout.
7
In this paper, we consider data collected in the first two waves of the survey. We restricted
the sample to individuals who participated in both waves of the survey and who were living with
at least one of their biological parents. These sample restrictions were necessitated by the
methodology that we employed to identify Roma ethnicity. The parents were asked what
nationality or ethnicity they identified with primarily or secondarily in both waves of the survey.
These two questions allowed the participants to choose a dual identity. For the purposes of this
study, we consider a young person to be Roma if he or she had at least one biological parent who
identified primarily or secondarily as Roma in either the 2006 or 2007 survey. Using this
definition, Roma youth comprise nearly 8 percent of all 8th grade students; the size of the Roma
subsample is 848 students (the fractions are weighted by sampling weights; see Table A1 of the
Appendix). The total sample size is 9056 students with reading comprehension test results and
8335 students with mathematics test results. The difference in samples occurred because special
needs students only completed the reading comprehension test.1 Table A2 of the Appendix
reports the magnitude of the bias arising from sample selection and the basic data on the
students who were eliminated from the sample for various reasons.
THE TEST SCORE GAP BETWEEN ROMA AND NON-ROMA STUDENTS IN
HUNGARY
As Figure 1 shows, the test scores measure skills that have a substantial impact on the choice of
secondary school and key events in the secondary school career. The figure depicts the
probabilities of completing different types of secondary school by age 21 as a function of 8th
grade test scores, using data from the sixth wave of the HLCS. The vertical axis indicates the
fraction of respondents with a general high school degree, technical high school degree (these
two degrees involve passing a graduation examination2 that is also the entry test for college) or
vocational school degree, as well as the fraction of respondents without any secondary degree.
The horizontal axis depicts 10 equally sized categories created by the reading test scores
measured in 8th grade, such that group 1 has the lowest and group 10 the highest scores.
1 Of all 8th graders, 6 percent (and 12 percent of Roma 8th graders) were special needs students in 2006;
the majority were classified as having a mild intellectual disability.
2 Called „maturity exam” in Hungary. Comparable to the A-level exams in the United Kingdom.
8
Figure 1
The likelihood of acquiring different types of secondary school degrees
by age 21 as a function of 8th grade reading comprehension test scores
020406080100
Percent
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
10 equal-sized groups by the average of reading test score
General high school Technical high school
Vocational school No degree
Figure 1 reveals that a strong, skill-based selection mechanism is at work in secondary
school. The relationship between the likelihood of lacking a secondary degree and test scores is
monotonically negative, and the relationship between the likelihood of earning a vocational
degree and test scores is very similar. The likelihood of earning a general high school degree is
strongly positively related to test scores. The results presented in Figure 1 imply that selection
into secondary school types and subsequent success is strongly related to skills in 8th grade and
that the NABC test scores are good measures of those skills. Moreover, labor market prospects
are strongly related to the type of secondary school degree. Between 2006 and 2012, the
employment rate at age 30 was 50 percent for those with 8 grades of education only, compared
to over 75 percent for those with some type of secondary degree. The wages of vocational school
graduates were 20 percent higher, the wages of technical high school graduates were 180 percent
higher, and the wages of college graduates (the degree obtained by most of the general high
school graduates) were over 200 percent higher than the wages of those with only 8 grades of
education. Taken together, these results provide strong evidence for the importance of the test
score differences.
9
We now turn to ethnic differences in the test scores. Table 1 reports the magnitude of the
standardized test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students using the data on 8th graders
from the 2006 NABC. As a comparison, we provide similar data on the test score gap between
13-year-old and 8th grade Black and White students in the United States. We include the test
scores of 13-year-old students from the United States because this is the format of the data from
the recent past, at the turn of the 1980s.
Table 1
The magnitude of the Roma–non-Roma test score gap in Hungary
and the black-white test score gap in the United States
(measured in standard deviations of the national average of the given test)
Year
Roma–non-Roma gap,
8th grade, Hungary a
Black-White gap,
8th grade, United Statesb
Black-White gap,
13-year-olds, United Statesc
reading mathematics reading mathematics reading mathematics
1978/80 – – – – –0.91 –1.08
1992 – – –0.83 –1.10 –0.73 –0.93
2006/8 –0.97 –1.05 –0.78 –0.88 –0.56 –0.81
a Calculated by the authors. Source: the combined data of the 2006 NABC and the HCLS.
b National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP), Main NAEP tables, 1992 and 2007.
c NAEP, Long-Term Trend tables, reading: 1980, 1992 and 2008, mathematics: 1978, 1992 and 2008.
The difference between Roma and non-Roma students' scores is approximately one standard
deviation. This difference matches the size of the gap between Black and White 13-year-old
students in the United States in about 1980, which has narrowed significantly since.
While our data only cover 8th graders, we can shed some light on the age pattern of the gap
with the use of other, albeit not nationally representative, data (Table 2). The coverage of the
samples and, in one case, the tests differ from those in our data. As a result, meaningful
comparisons across age groups can only be made within each sample.
The first data come from the evaluation of the National Education Integration Network
program (Kézdi and Surányi, 2008). These data enable us to compare 2nd and 4th grade students.
The study measured the arithmetic and reading skills of approximately 4000 students in 60
schools in two waves (spring 2005 and spring 2007). The tests were developed for the study, and
disadvantaged students are highly overrepresented in the sample. The second data allow us to
compare 6th and 8th grade students; these data are based on the "Interethnic Relations, 2010"
survey. The survey collected data on 8th grade students at 88 schools, and the respondents were
linked to their administrative files with their 6th grade test scores from 2008 and the 8th grade
test scores from 2010. The tests are the standard NABC tests, and again, disadvantaged students
are overrepresented in the sample. The third dataset allows us to compare 8th and 10th graders:
sample is the subsample of the HLCS that was matched to the 10th grade test scores of the NABC
10
data. Owing to imperfections in the matching procedure, this subsample is 50 percent of the
original sample, and students of higher status are slightly overrepresented in the sample.
Table 2
The Roma–non-Roma test score gap by grade level
(measured in standard deviations of the national average of the given test)
First dataset: raw gap; data in parentheses: include controls for gender, age,
no mother/father and parental education
Survey/Year Grade
Test
SZTE
arithmeticd
SZTE
readingd
NABC
readinge
NEINa
2005/2007
2nd –0.76 (–0.49) - -
4th - –0.86 (–0.53) -
IER-NABCb
2008/2010
6th - - –0.67 (–0.33)
8th - - –0.68 (–0.35)
HLCS-NABCc
2006/2008
8th
10th
-
-
-
–0.82
(–0.22)
–1.01 (–0.33)
a The evaluation of the National Education Integration Network (NEIN) program; sample: students in 2nd
grade in spring 2005 and 4th grade in spring 2007. See: Kézdi and Surányi, 2008.
b The sample of the "Inter-Ethnic Relations, 2010" (IER) in Education survey combined with the 2008
NABC 6th grade and the 2010 NABC 8th grade test score data.
c The sample of the Tárki HLCS is combined with the 2006 NABC 8th grade and 2008 NABC 10th grade test
score data. The table only includes data on students from the HLCS if they could be identified as 10th
graders in the 2008 NABC.
d Reading comprehension test for 2nd graders and arithmetic skills test for 4th graders developed by the
Institute of Education at the University of Szeged (SZTE). The national mean and standard deviation data
are from the longitudinal survey of the Institute of Education, University of Szeged, sample III, 2005: 2nd
graders, 2006: 4th graders. (See: Csapó, 2007)
e NABC reading comprehension tests.
We summarize the results of all measurements in Table 2. In addition to the raw test score
gap, we include the values of the gap after we corrected for gender, age, household presence and
education of the mother/father in parentheses.
The available data indicate the relative stability of the test score gaps measured in grades 5 to
8, but the gap increases between grades 2 and 4 and grades 8 and 10. As the gap in the reading
test scores is generally larger, the observation that the reading gap is larger in 4th grade than the
math gap in 2nd grade suggests an even larger increase in the gap concerning the scores on each
test. Conditioning on parental education leads to substantially smaller gaps, especially in higher
grades, and these conditional gaps appear to widen, too.
International surveys (Lee and Burkam, 2002; Neuman, 2006) find that the children of
disadvantaged minorities struggle with significant deficits by the time that they reach
kindergarten age. The available evidence is scarce but suggests that poor children in Hungary are
no exceptions to this rule. The evaluation of the early childhood education program Biztos
11
Kezdet (Sure Start) in Hungary collected baseline data on 4- to 6-year-old kindergarteners and
measured the vocabularies of these children. In this sample, the raw gap between Roma and
non-Roma children is 66 percent of a standard deviation, which is reduced to 11 percent once we
condition on gender, age, household presence and education of the mother/father.
SOCIAL COMPOSITION AND THE ACHIEVEMENT GAP
What is the magnitude of the ethnic gap compared to the raw test score gap if we account for
social and income differences between the Roma and non-Roma student populations? As nonRoma
students constitute a much larger percentage of the students (and thus, of the sample), we
conduct the following thought experiment: how large would the test score gap between Roma
and non-Roma students be if non-Roma students lived in similarly poor conditions to those in
which Roma students live?
In our analysis, we used the family background variables presented in Table 3. In
conjunction, these variables represent the family's long-term income, wealth and life chances in
a broad sense. The descriptive statistics are presented in Table A3 of the Appendix.
12
Table 3
Family background variables
Variable name Definition of variable
Biological mother in household Lives with biological mother: yes/no
Nonbiological mother in household Lives with nonbiological mother: yes/no
Biological father in household Lives with biological father: yes/no
Nonbiological father in household Lives with nonbiological father: yes/no
Mother's education Mother's (biological/nonbiological) highest completed level of education: 0-8
years of elementary school/vocational school/high school diploma/higher
education
Father's education Father's (biological/nonbiological) highest completed level of education: 0-8
years of elementary school/vocational school/high school diploma/higher
education
Mother's current employment Mother was employed in the fall of 2006: yes/no
Father's current employment Father was employed in the fall of 2006: yes/no
Mother's long-term employment Mother: share of years worked while the child was 0-14 years old, %
Father's long-term employment Father: share of years worked while the child was 0-14 years old, %
ln(monthly income) The logarithm of the household's monthly income, 2006
ln(number of household members) The logarithm of the number of household members
Number of unemployed adults Number of unemployed adult household members
Living space per person, m2 Surface area of apartment/number of household members, m2/person
Number of rooms per person Number of rooms/number of household members
Bathroom Is there a bathroom in the apartment? yes/no
Poverty1
(income does not cover food)
Was there not enough money for food in the past 12 months? yes/no
Poverty2
(income does not cover heating)
Was there not enough money for heating in the past 12 months? yes/no
Poverty3
(child-care assistance)
The family receives child-care assistance: yes/no
Poverty4
(free school meals)
The child receives free meals at school: yes/no
Poverty5
(free school textbooks)
The child receives free textbooks at school: yes/no
Place of residence: region Regions of Hungary: Central Hungary/Central Transdanubia/Western
Transdanubia/Southern Transdanubia/Northern Hungary/Northern Great
Plain
Place of residence: type Budapest/county seat/other city/village
Place of residence: remote Access to the place of residence is too expensive or time consuming by car or
public transporta: yes/no
a See Köllő, 1997.
13
We summarize the results of various estimations in Table 4. We estimate the role of social
background in the achievement gap between Roma and non-Roma students using two methods:
linear regression (OLS) and propensity score matching. The OLS results are more standard, but
propensity score matching is more flexible, as it allows for nonlinearities and ensures common
support. We estimate two types of matching models: nearest neighbor matching and stratified
matching.
Table 4
The magnitude of the ethnic test score gap conditional on social background
Regression and matching estimates
Roma parameter
(standard error)a
Number of
observationsb
R2
Reading comprehension
Raw gap -0.97 (0.05)** 9056 0.06
OLS -0.23 (0.05)** 9056 0.27
Propensity score matching
nearest neighbor matching -0.18 (0.06)* 837/480 –
stratified matching -0.18 (0.04)* 837/7948 –
Mathematics
Raw gap -1.05 (0.05)** 8335 0.07
OLS -0.32 (0.05)** 8335 0.27
Propensity score matching
nearest neighbor matching -0.26 (0.06)* 837/395 –
stratified matching -0.26 (0.04)* 837/7948 –
a Standard errors in parentheses.
b In the case of propensity score matching: number of Roma (treatment)/non-Roma (control) observations
* Significant at 5 %, ** Significant at 1 %.
Note: see detailed results in Table A4 of the Appendix.
Despite the methodological differences, all estimates show that the test score gap between
Roma and non-Roma students is to a large extent explained by their adverse long-term socioeconomic
conditions. The test score gap between the average Roma student and the average nonRoma
student is approximately one standard deviation in magnitude. The test score gap between
Roma students and non-Roma students of similar social backgrounds is approximately 0.2-0.3
of a standard deviation. One way to interpret these findings is that three-fourths of the raw
mathematics gap and four-fifths of the raw reading comprehension gap would disappear if Roma
and non-Roma students had similar social backgrounds. Many non-Roma students have
similarly disadvantaged backgrounds to those of the average Roma student; however, few Roma
14
students have backgrounds that are similar to or better than the average non-Roma student. Our
results are therefore identified among the bottom of the social background distribution of nonRoma
students.
Is there a way to address whether the ethnic test score gap would decline significantly if
Roma students lived in conditions that were similarly as good as those of the average or betterthan-average
non-Roma student? Answering this question requires an extrapolation of the test
score gap as a function of social background. We created a one-dimensional synthetic family
background index by taking the linear combination of all our family background variables
through the use of coefficients obtained from a regression of test scores (the average of the
reading and mathematics scores) on the family background variables. We then normalized the
resulting values on a range from 0 to 1. Individuals facing worse socio-economic circumstances
are thus located closer to 0, while those living in better conditions are closer to 1. Figure A1 in the
Appendix plots the distribution of the family background index for the Roma and non-Roma
subsamples separately. The overwhelming majority of Roma students live in worse conditions
than the average non-Roma student: the Roma subsample is too small to be meaningful over
values of 0.6.
We divided the range of the family background index into 10 equal intervals and estimated
the mean Roma and non-Roma reading and mathematics test scores for each interval. We
restricted the estimates for the Roma students to the 0–0.6 range. The estimates are presented
in Figure 3. The gray zone indicates the 95 percent confidence intervals (within ± 2 standard
errors of the mean).
15
Figure 3
Reading and mathematics test results as a function of the family background index
(The gray zone indicates the 95 percent confidence intervals)
Continuous lines: Non-Roma. Dashed lines: Roma
Reading Mathematics
-1.5-1-.50.51
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
-1.5-1-.50.51 0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
Although our method would allow for nonlinear relationships, the relationship between the
family background index and expected test scores is nearly linear for both the Roma and the
non-Roma samples. The two lines are also very close to one another. In the case of the reading
score, the difference is very small and tends to decrease as the family background index values
increase; in the case of the mathematics score, the difference is somewhat larger, and it is
difficult to determine whether the two lines converge or diverge. Extrapolating beyond the
common support, these results suggest that the test scores of Roma students would be similar to,
or only slightly worse than, the better-off non-Roma students if their social circumstances were
also similar.
We have therefore answered our first question: the test score gap between Roma and nonRoma
students in Hungary are, to a large extent, explained by social background, while ethnicity
seems to play a very small role, at most, in the test score gap. We now turn to answering our
second question: What mediating mechanisms are responsible for the relationship between
social background and test scores that lead to the large test score gap between Roma and nonRoma
students?
16
THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK
The literature identifies three major sets of mechanisms that lead to low achievement among
disadvantaged students. In general, children’s skill accumulation and school performance are
weaker if (1) their health is worse than average, (2) they have little access to resources and
activities that are important for developing their skills in their home environment and (3) they
have limited access to high-quality educational services and a motivating school environment.
We review the international evidence on these mechanisms in this section.
1. Health. Pain, fatigue and stress associated with poor health and diseases have a direct
effect on learning performance. Missed lessons reduce the time spent studying, and parents are
often overprotective of more vulnerable children, allowing them to spend less time in the
company of their peers and providing them with fewer opportunities for sports and other
activities that can help to develop their skills (Currie, 2005; Case, Lubotsky and Paxson, 2002;
Almond and Currie 2011). Unfavorable circumstances during pregnancy/birth and chronic
disease during early childhood create the conditions for diseases in later stages of childhood and
adulthood and have a negative effect on the development of the skills necessary for learning
(Barker, 1998; Reichman, 2005; Case, Fertig and Paxson, 2005; Palloni et al., 2009).
The children of less-educated and poor families have a higher than average risk of
contracting chronic diseases and suffering accidents and injuries. Parents are also less likely to
recognize the symptoms of disease, and such families have more limited access to better health
care owing to insufficient information and transportation and other costs. Poor children thus
have a more difficult time recovering from diseases. As a result, children of poor families are of
systematically worse health on average than their higher-income counterparts, and this
difference appears to increase with age (Case, Lubotsky and Paxson, 2002; Currie and Stabile,
2003; Currie 2009).
2. Home environment/parenting. The numerous activities, tools and aspects of the material
environment and behavioral patterns combine to form the learning environment at home. We
focus on two components: (1) the availability of activities, objects, tools and environmental
factors that directly or indirectly promote the child's cognitive development and (2) parenting
practices that guarantee the child's emotional stability (Linver, Brooks-Gunn and Kohen, 2002).
The literature offers two theories to explain the relationship between these mechanisms and
17
poverty. Human capital theory3 asserts that a low level of parental investment is responsible for
the negative impact of the parental poverty on children's skills. The effects of poverty on a child's
human capital (in a broad sense) are thus mediated by tools, experiences and parental "services"
that stimulate the child's development. The family stress model4 asserts that economic hardship
or the loss of a job influences children's development through the parents' mental state. As the
parents' mental state affects the parent-child relationship and the parenting methods that are
used in the family, it has a major impact on children's development. The two classes of
explanations are, to some extent, competing theories, but they complement each other in many
respects.
3. School quality. Two central factors can make a school a "high-quality" institution: effective
teachers and mutually motivating classmates. Although measuring teaching quality is difficult, a
number of innovative studies conducted over the past two decades have convincingly
demonstrated that teacher performance plays a definitive role in students' school performance.
These studies assess teaching quality through the use of a variety of methods: some measure
observable features, such as the results of teacher skill tests (Ferguson, 1998), others measure
student performance with value added models (Rivkin, Hanushek and Kain, 2005; Chetty,
Friedman and Rockoff, 2011), and yet others compare the outcomes of up-to-date and obsolete
teaching practices in the classroom (Wenglinsky, 2001; Schacter and Thum, 2004). Their results
are clear: high-quality teaching is one of the main catalysts for good student performance.
Peer group composition is positively related to student performance. If any type of social
mechanism causes children with learning problems to cluster in one school or classroom, a
subculture may develop that is not conducive to learning. The leaders of the peer group may
refuse to make an effort and co-operate with the teachers and create their own culture of
resistance to school knowledge (Akerlof and Kranton, 2002; Bishop et al., 2003; Fryer and
Torelli, 2010). A number of studies indicate that high-performance peer groups enhance while
low-performance peer groups inhibit individual learning performance (Ammermueller and
Pischke, 2009; Hanushek et al., 2003; Hanushek, Kain and Rivkin, 2009).
Teacher quality and peer group composition may be positively correlated, which may hinder
the separation of their respective effects, on the one hand, but may result in mutually reinforcing
effects, on the other. Such a positive correlation is more likely in school systems that are
characterized by higher levels of segregation and that do not compensate teachers for more
3 Leibowitz, 1974; Becker, 1981a; 1981b; Becker and Tomes 1986; Haveman and Wolfe, 1995; Mayer, 1997;
Mulligan, 1997; Kalil and DeLeire, 2004; Guryan, Hurst and Kearney, 2008; Gould and Simhon, 2011;
Kaushal, Magnuson and Waldfogel, 2011; Phillips, 2011.
4 Elder, 1974; Lempers, Clark-Lempers and Simons, 1989; McLoyd, 1990; Conger et al., 1992; 1993.
18
difficult tasks associated with teaching more difficult peer groups.5 Recent studies show the
consequences of the negative selection of teachers to worse performing schools in segregated
school systems (Hanushek, Kain and Rivkin, 2004; Clotfelter, Ladd and Vigdor, 2005; Jackson,
2009).
Figure 5 summarizes our theoretical framework regarding the factors that may contribute to
the Roma students' school deficits. For the sake of simplicity, the figure treats the social
background of a student as one dimensional, namely, good or bad; similarly, health, home
environment and school quality are captured by one-dimensional variables that are also binary.
The simple lines (not arrows) connecting the variables designate correlations, the arrows
designate causal relationships, and the plus and minus symbols indicate the signs of the
relationships.
Social background is treated as a predetermined characteristic that can influence children's
health, the home learning environment, access to quality education and test scores; reverse
causality is unlikely to be very important in this case. The role of ethnicity is more complex. With
respect to the relationship between ethnicity and social background, causality can run in both
directions (e.g., social background may affect identity, and ethnic discrimination may affect life
chances). Causality may also run in both directions for the relationship between ethnicity and
the intervening variables representing the transmission mechanisms (e.g., school environment
may affect identity, and ethnic segregation in schools may affect the quality of education).
Figure 5
An illustration of the causal relationships that determine test results
5 Well-designed social experiments and additional resources can achieve good results with disadvantaged
students in schools that are dominated by disadvantaged students (see, for example: Dobbie and Fryer,
2011 on the Harlem Children's Zone and Angrist et al., 2010 on the Knowledge is Power program).
19
MEASUREMENT STRATEGY
The lack of exogenous variation in health, home environment, parenting practices and the school
environment prevents us from performing a causal analysis. Instead, we use the richness of our
data to apply as detailed measures of each factor as possible and conduct a decomposition
exercise to assess the potential magnitude of each—conditional on each other. The HLCS data
provide us with the following measures.
1. Student health is measured by two variables: birth weight and self-reported health. Birth
weight is one of the most important indicators that characterize pregnancy conditions and fetal
development. Children born with a low birth weight—measured as a birth weight under 2500 g—
have a higher risk of physical and nervous system damage; have a higher likelihood of
developing learning difficulties, attention deficit problems and special educational needs; are
more likely to repeat grades and have lower test scores (Breslau et al., 1994; Hack, Klein and
Taylor, 1995; Reichman, 2005). In addition to correlations, several studies show the causal
effects of low birth weight on education levels, employment chances and incomes (Currie and
Hyson, 1999, Behrman and Rosenzweig, 2004; Black, Devereux and Salvanes, 2007; Oreopoulos
et al., 2008). The incidence of low birth weight is closely correlated with the income, wealth and
education of the population concerned. The poorer and less educated the population of a country
or a group within a country is, the greater the statistical probability of low birth weight will be
(Behrman and Rosenzweig, 2004) owing to various mechanisms, including nutrition, health
behavior and access to health care (Rosenzweig and Schultz, 1982; Hack, Klein and Taylor, 1995;
Cramer, 1995; Meara, 2001; Schonkoff and Phillips, 2004, chapter 8; Paul, 2010; Currie, 2011).
The second variable is the self-reported health of the surveyed students. It was measured on
a scale from one to four (excellent/good/adequate/poor) a few months after the reading and
mathematics tests were taken. This variable, which is widely used in the literature, is strongly
correlated with both medically diagnosed chronic conditions (Case, Lubotsky and Paxson, 2002)
and parental social status indicators (income and education). Poorer children generally tend to
have worse health, which is reflected in their self-evaluations, or, in the case of younger children,
in their parents' subjective evaluations (Case, Lubotsky and Paxson, 2002; Currie and Stabile,
2003; Case, Fertig and Paxson, 2005; Currie, 2009, Table 1).
2. In assembling the parenting/home environment indicators, we used retrospective
questions in the HLCS dating back to kindergarten. We also used a series of questions and
observations in the first wave of the HLCS to measure the material and emotional home
environment in adolescence.
20
Early childhood experiences and family interactions related to books and other written texts
play an exceptionally important role in children's cognitive development. Regular bedtime
storytelling sessions and parent-child interactions centered on browsing children's books
together (including picture books) are important ways in which toddlers and kindergarteners
acquire such experiences. The number of literacy experiences in early childhood can have an
important effect on the child's basic skills prior to school enrollment (Heath, 1983; Réger, 1990;
Neuman, 1996; Sénéchal et al., 2001; Dickinson and Tabors, 2001; Raikes et al., 2006). We have
two measures of the frequency of bedtime storytelling sessions at kindergarten age in the HLCS,
one from the parents and one—in a separate interview—from the children. The HLCS also
contains questions on other joint activities, of which hiking or engaging in sports was
significantly related to test scores and hence is included in our analysis.
The students’ current home environment and parenting practices are measured with the use
of the HOME (Home Observation for Measurement of the Environment) scale. The HOME
index is an instrument that is used to assess the developmentally relevant features of a child's
home environment, and our data contain the battery developed for adolescents (Bradley et al.,
2000; Mott, 2004). Recent research shows that the home environment and parenting, as
measured by the HOME scale, are strongly related to children's school readiness and subsequent
school performance (Crane, 1996; Guo and Harris, 2000; Linver, Brooks-Gunn and Kohen,
2002; Brooks-Gunn and Markman, 2005; Todd and Wolpin 2007). The first wave of the HLCS,
in 2006, relied on an adapted version of the short form of the adolescent HOME scale (HOMESF)
that was used in the National Longitudinal Study of Youth. The short version is composed of
27 items and assesses two subscales: cognitive stimulation and emotional support. As
supplemental measures of the home environment, we also included a key variable of the PISA
studies (the number of books in the home) and information on the availability of an internet
connection.
We describe the variables that characterize students' health and home environment and
parenting in Table 5. Table A5 in the Appendix presents the summary statistics for Roma and
non-Roma students for these variables.
21
Table 5
Intervening variables representing the transmission mechanisms
Variable name Definition
HEALTH
Low birth weight The child was born with a birth weight lower than 2500 g: yes/no
Adequate or poor teenage
health
The child's health, based on a fall 2006 self-evaluation, is adequate
or poor according to a four-part scale
(poor/adequate/good/excellent): yes/no (modal age: 15)
HOME ENVIRONMENT/PARENTING
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (child's response)
Seldom or never told bedtime stories (once every 6 months or even
less frequently) while the child was in kindergarten: yes/no (child's
response)
Often told bedtime stories
(child's response)
Often told bedtime stories (several times a week) while the child
was in kindergarten: yes/no (child's response)
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (parent's response)
Seldom or never told bedtime stories (never or almost never) while
the child was in kindergarten: yes/no (parent's response)
Often told bedtime stories
(parent's response)
Often told bedtime stories (every day or almost every day) while the
child was in kindergarten: yes/no (parent's response)
Seldom went hiking with
parents
(child's response)
Seldom (once every 6 months or even less frequently) went hiking
or engaged in sports together with the parents while the child was in
kindergarten: yes/no (child's response)
HOME index, cognitive
subscalea
The subscale of the HOME index (a synthetic variable
characterizing the home environment) for 15-year-olds that
measures cognitive stimulation
HOME index, emotional
subscalea
The subscale of the HOME index (a synthetic variable
characterizing the home environment) for 15-year-olds that
measures emotional support
Number of books at home The number of books in the home: under 50/50-150/150-300/
300-600/600-1000/over 1000
Internet connection at home Does the home have an internet connection: yes/no
a Table A6 of the Appendix presents the items in the HOME index’s cognitive and emotional subscales.
3. In contrast to health and home environment, we do not use explicit measures to capture
the potential effects of school quality. Instead, we compare Roma and non-Roma students who
studied in the same school and class with the use of including school and class fixed effects. Note
that in general, assignment to classes (groups of 20 to 30 students) is fixed over a student’s
entire school career, and hence, students in the same class generally share a common school
history. Recall that our data are linked to the administrative NABC database, which contains the
students’ school and class identification numbers in addition to their test scores. The multistage
22
sampling method and size of the HLCS sample yield a sufficient number of observations for
within-class analysis.
When interpreting the results, we can interpret the regression estimates of the “Roma”
coefficient in the equations without school and class fixed effects to measure the differences
between randomly selected Roma and non-Roma students. The “Roma” coefficient in the
equations that include school and class fixed effects measures the gap between randomly
selected Roma and non-Roma classmates. The difference between the two estimates measures
the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma students who are not classmates. This residual
component incorporates the consequences of the selection of typical Roma students into schools
and classes that differ from the schools and classes of typical non-Roma students. This residual
component thus captures all the effects of selection and differences in the educational quality of
typical Roma and non-Roma students. The estimate is an upward-biased estimate of the effects
of school quality because of selection: the non-Roma classmates of most Roma students are
likely to differ from the average non-Roma student. We partially control for this bias by
including the rich set of family background variables, but the remaining estimates are likely to
remain larger than the true effect of school quality.
THE STRENGTH OF THE TRANSMISSION MECHANISMS
Our first question concerns the relative importance of the three transmission mechanisms as the
basic pathways between social background and the ethnic achievement gap. These three
mechanisms are strongly interrelated, in part because of unobserved factors. As a result, a
multiple regression model that includes all covariates and fixed effects can yield informative
results regarding the potential combined effect of the three mechanisms but not regarding their
relative magnitudes. Successive inclusion of the variables representing these mechanisms also
generates concern, as the order in which the variables enter matters. Therefore, we enter the
variables representing health, the home learning environment and school/class fixed effects into
the equation in varying order, and finally, we enter the family background variables that
characterize the family's socio-economic conditions.
23
Table 6
The magnitude of the residual ethnic test score gap after accounting
for the transmission mechanisms
Reading Mathematics
Roma -0.97 -0.07 -0.05 -1.05 -0.18 -0.15
(0.05)** (0.07) (0.07)
(0.05)** (0.07)** (0.07)*
Health, home
environment
– yes yes – yes yes
School/class fixed effect – yes yes – yes yes
Family background – – yes – – yes
Sample size 9056 9056 9056 8335 8335 8335
R2 0.06 0.67 0.68 0.07 0.68 0.69
Standard errors in parentheses are clustered at the school level.
* Significant at 5 %, ** Significant at 1 %.
Note: see detailed results in Table A7 of the Appendix.
We first examine the combined effect of the three mechanisms. As Table 6 shows, the bulk of
the raw test score gap disappears (over 90 percent of the reading and over 80 percent of the
mathematics test score gap) if we account for our measures of the three mechanisms. No gap in
reading and a small gap in mathematics exist between Roma and non-Roma students who are
similar in terms of health, who had the same degree of access to the resources, tools and
activities that stimulate skill development in their home environment and who attended the
same classes in the same schools. Entering the family background variables does not
significantly reduce the Roma coefficient once the mechanism variables are included. If
interpreted as causal effects, the results suggest that the skill deficits of Roma students are
exclusively due to well-defined social mechanisms related to health, home environment and
educational quality.
Our second question concerns the relative strength of the three mechanisms. Table 7
presents our estimates for the potential of each mechanism to explain the test score gap between
Roma and non-Roma students. The table reports our lower and upper estimates. The lower
estimates correspond to the reduction in the Roma coefficient in the test score regression when
the variables of the particular mechanism are entered last (when all correlated effects are
absorbed by the other mechanisms). Our upper estimate corresponds to the reduction when they
are entered first (when all correlated effects are absorbed by the given mechanism). Recall that
the gap that we aim to explain in reading comprehension is 0.97 and that the gap in mathematics
is 1.05.
24
Table 7
The relative strength of the transmission mechanisms:
reduction in the size of the Roma coefficient in the test score regressions
due to the variables corresponding to each mechanism
Reading Mathematics
lower
estimate
upper
estimate
lower
estimate
upper estimate
Health 0.01 0.10 0.03 0.11
Home
environment 0.28 0.76 0.28 0.69
School 0.13 0.60 0.17 0.58
The lower estimate corresponds to the reduction in the Roma coefficient when the variables of the
particular mechanism are entered last; the upper estimate corresponds to the reduction when they
are entered first.
Although the range of the estimates is rather broad, the home learning environment and the
likelihood of accessing to high-quality education appear to be very important. The results are
consistent with the causal interpretation that the test scores of Roma students are worse because
they have limited access to resources and activities that promote their skill development at home
and because they have limited access to high-quality education services. Health appears to play a
less important role in teenage test results; however, childhood health problems may affect later
life outcomes6 through other channels (Elo and Preston, 1992; Case, Lubotsky and Paxson,
2002; Case, Fertig and Paxson, 2005; Smith, 1999; 2009; Marmot and Wilkinson, 2006; Strauss
and Thomas, 2008, chapter 4).
Having established the potential role of each mechanism, our next question is, to what
degree do the Roma students' socio-economic disadvantages explain their deficits in home
environment and access to educational services, and what is the potential role of ethnicity per
se?
HOME ENVIRONMENT AND PARENTING
As when we analyzed the determinants of the test score gap, not only in the neighborhood of the
average values but also along the entire distribution of the family background scale, we examine
the ethnic differences in the home environment, again throughout the distribution of family
background. We use the previously introduced synthetic family background index for that
purpose. Analogously to the previous analysis, we divide the range of the family background
variable (the linear combination of family income, poverty, parental education and parental
6 Such outcomes include adult health, mortality, employment and earnings.
25
employment) into 10 equal intervals and estimate the mean values of the home environment
variables for the Roma and non-Roma students. Similar to the previous analysis, we restrict the
estimates for the Roma students to the 0–0.6 range, as the subsample is too small to be
meaningful over values of 0.6.
We present our results in the following two figures. Social and ethnic differences in the
frequency of bedtime storytelling to kindergarten age children, the number of books in the
home and internet access in the home are reported in Figure 6, and the differences in the
cognitive and emotional HOME index scores are presented in Figure 7. For expositional
purposes, we omit the confidence intervals around the HOME index figures (they overlap across
Roma and non-Roma, suggesting no significant differences).7
7 As robustness checks, we estimated linear regressions with the family background variables entered
separately. The results, shown in Table A8 in the Appendix, are very similar to the results in the figures
below.
26
Figure 6
The probability of bedtime storytelling, having no or very few books and having an
internet connection at home as a function of the family background index
Solid lines: Non-Roma. Dashed lines: Roma. The gray zone indicates the 95 percent confidence intervals
Rarely or never told bedtime stories
(information from child)
Regularly told bedtime stories
(information from child)
0.2.4.6
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
.2.4.6.81
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
Rarely or never told bedtime stories
(information from parent)
Regularly told bedtime stories
(information from parent)
0.1.2.3.4
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
0.2.4.6.8
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
Fewer than 50 books at home There is an internet connection at
home
0.2.4.6.8
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
0.2.4.6.81
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
27
Figure 7
Family background and the cognitive and emotional HOME index
Solid lines: Non-Roma; dashed lines: Roma.
Black lines: cognitive HOME index; gray lines: emotional HOME index
-2-101
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Index of family background
First, Figures 6 and 7 reveal that most indicators are strongly related to the family
background index within both ethnic groups. Only 20-30 percent of the most disadvantaged
students were told bedtime stories regularly in early childhood, compared to 70-80 percent of
children from the highest social status families. Of the poorest and least educated families, 70
percent have either no or very few books, which is true of none of the highest status families.
Fewer than 5 percent of the poorest families had home internet access in 2006, compared to 90
percent of the wealthiest families. The difference in the cognitive HOME index (a comprehensive
measure of the cognitive stimuli in the teenage home environment) between the two groups is a
staggering 2.5 standard deviations. The exception is the emotional HOME index, which is weakly
associated with family background.
Second, the figures reveal small and, in many cases, statistically insignificant ethnic
differences in the home environment and parenting indicators between families with comparable
family backgrounds. Statistically, no difference is found in storytelling or the cognitive and
emotional HOME index graphs between the Roma and non-Roma students. Ethnic differences
become small but remain statistically significant in terms of the number of books owned and
internet access conditional on the family background index. However, these ethnic differences
are smaller at higher levels of the family background index. If one were willing to extrapolate to
the upper part of the distribution of family background, one could conclude that Roma students
would have similar home environments to non-Roma students if they lived in similarly good
circumstances.
28
The third interesting result is the flat profile of the emotional HOME index with respect to
family background. The results indicate that high- and low-income families generally do not
substantially differ in their capacity to provide emotional support to their children. This result is
surprising, as the bottom third of society faces serious economic difficulties, and unemployment
and economic hardship represent a major source of stress for families living in poor socioeconomic
circumstances. Parents living in poverty are nevertheless able to provide their children
with nearly as much emotional support as parents of higher social status. Coupled with the
insignificant ethnic differences conditional on family background, this result suggests that
typical Roma families provide their children with the same level of emotional support as typical
non-Roma families, even though they face much more difficult economic conditions.8
We can only speculate about the reasons why children living in adverse circumstances have
suboptimal access to the objects, activities and experiences that promote their skill development
in their home environment. The most obvious cause is income poverty: low-income families are
less able to afford the objects, tools and services that promote skill development than wealthier
families. The role of income poverty is supported by recent studies from the United States
(Duncan and Murnane, 2011b, p. 11; Kaushal, Magnuson and Waldfogel, 2011). Families that
differ in parental education—and thus income—also differ in terms of parental time use. Lesseducated
parents are found to spend significantly less time with their children than more
educated parents—even though they are less likely to be employed and spend more time at home
on average (Sayer, Gauthier and Furstenberg, 2004, p. 1164; Guryan, Hurst and Kearney, 2008,
p. 35; Ramey and Ramey, 2010, p. 137). Parental education is also associated with the quantity
and quality of parent-child interactions. Less-educated parents speak with their children
significantly less often, have less developed vocabulary and incorporate less encouragement and
more discouragement in their parenting than more educated parents (Réger, 1990; HoffGinsberg,
1991; Hart and Risley, 1995; Huttenlocher et al., 2002; Hoff, 2003; 2006; Phillips,
2011). Finally, disadvantaged children have more limited access to the objects, activities and
experiences that promote their development than other children not only in their immediate
family environment but also in their residential area (Neuman and Celano, 2001; Neuman, 1999;
Neuman et al., 2001; Neuman and Celano, 2004).
8 Although emotional support is not strongly related to poverty, it is closely connected to family structure.
In our sample, two-parent families are able to provide the highest levels of emotional support, and single
mothers the lowest levels of emotional support. The difference between these two family types accounts
for 70 percent of the standard deviation of the HOME emotional subscale scores. The comparable
difference is much smaller in the case of the HOME cognitive subscale, barely exceeding 20 percent. It is
important to note that the distribution of single parenthood and patchwork families is very similar across
Roma and non-Roma households. Detailed results are available from the authors upon request.
29
ACCESS TO ADEQUATE EDUCATION
The second important mechanism behind the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma
students is the Roma students’ relatively limited access to adequate education. Ethnic
inequalities in access are due to in part residential inequalities and in part selection mechanisms
irrespective of residence. The majority of Roma students are educated in classrooms in which the
sheer quantity of unresolved pedagogical problems makes it very difficult for teachers to teach
well. To measure this, we combine the HLCS sample with the full 2006 NABC database. For
every student in the HLCS sample, we calculated the percentage of the classmates whose reading
test results were inadequate (levels 0 or 1; the maximum is 4; overall, 30 percent perform at this
inadequate level). We then characterize the class of each student as problematic if the reading
test results were inadequate for more than half of the student’s classmates. As we argued
previously, studying in problematic classes is detrimental to student development because the
pedagogical difficulties lead to lower quality teaching. Moreover, these difficulties can adversely
affect the quality of teachers through their self-selection, and direct peer effects may further
hinder individual development.
We find substantial ethnic differences in the likelihood of studying in problematic classes. Of
Roma 8th graders, 58 percent are in problematic classes (in which over half of their classmates
can be considered functionally illiterate), compared to 18 percent of non-Roma students. The
raw ethnic difference is 40 percentage points. We estimated linear probability models to capture
the ethnic difference while controlling for family background and home environment. Table 8
presents the results.
When controlling for the family background variables (which include residential information
variables), we find that the ethnic difference declines substantially but remains non-negligible
and statistically significant at 14 percentage points (see Table A9 in the Appendix). Thus, Roma
children are 14 percentage points more likely to attend problematic classes than non-Roma
children of similar family background. When we control for home environment and parenting
variables in addition to the family background variables, the ethnic difference remains
statistically significant at 12 percentage points. In conjunction, these results suggest that
residential inequalities and selection by social disadvantage are responsible for the bulk of the
selection; however, ethnic exclusion mechanisms are responsible for the rest.
30
Table 8
The probability of attending a class that is problematic
(fraction of classmates with inadequate reading skills above 50 percent)
Linear probability models. Number of observations: 9056
Roma
0.40 0.14 0.21 0.12
(0.022)*
*
(0.026)*
*
(0.025)*
*
(0.026)*
*
Family background – yes – yes
Home environment – – yes yes
Number of
observations
9056 9056 9056 9056
R2 0.07 0.18 0.16 0.2
Standard errors in parentheses are clustered at the school level.
** Significant at 1 %.
Note: see detailed results in Table A9 of the Appendix.
SUMMARY AND POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS
Using unique data from Hungary, this study measured the gap in standardized test scores
between Roma and non-Roma 8th grade students and demonstrated that this gap is comparable
to the size of the Black-White test score gap in the United States in the 1980s. The skills gap
emerges at a very early age, before enrollment in elementary school, and that the differences
measured at the end of elementary school continue to increase in secondary school.
Social differences (in income, parental education and place of residence) account for a large
part of the test score gap. If the non-Roma students lived in socio-economic circumstances
similar to those of Roma students, only a fraction of the gap would persist: one-fourth of the
mathematics gap and one-fifth of the reading gap. Based on theoretical considerations and
empirical results from the international literature, we examined the role of three mediating
mechanisms by which these social differences could give rise to the ethnic test score gap: health,
home environment and parenting and schools. We found that, together, these mechanisms
completely explain the role of social differences in the test score gap and that they in themselves
explain the entire gap in reading and 90 percent of the gap in mathematics. Two of these
mechanisms were particularly important: (1) home environment and parenting and (2) schools.
We then demonstrated that ethnic differences in the home environment and parenting can be
almost entirely explained by social differences (with the exception of books), especially in the
middle income range (which is the highest end of the income range for Roma families). These
factors are very strongly related to social differences, with the surprising exception of emotional
support in families. We also found that the Roma students have substantial disadvantages with
31
respect to access to adequate education. Roma students are 40 percentage points more likely to
study in classrooms in which the majority of their peers have inadequate reading skills than nonRoma
students. This increased likelihood is in large part due to residential and social
disadvantages, but ethnicity remains a significant factor in the school system's selection
mechanisms.
We conclude that the test score gap between Roma and non-Roma 8th grade students is
primarily due to poverty and associated disadvantages at home and at school. Thus, aside from
the phenomenon of school segregation, the causes of the achievement gap call for universal and
color-blind policies instead of interventions targeting the Roma minority in particular. Policies
that improve the long-run life chances of families with children in extreme poverty can result in
substantial improvements in the children’s skill development. Policies targeting the causal
mechanisms directly are additional candidates.
Perhaps the most promising methods to prevent school failures are to provide children with
an environment (objects, tools, activities, services) that facilitates their cognitive and language
development and to promote complementary parenting methods (Herczog, 2008; Almond and
Currie, 2011; Heckman, 2011). Unequal access to high-quality learning environments due to
residential disadvantages and the selection mechanisms of the school system calls for additional
policies aiming to improve and modernize the entire school system and incorporate pedagogical
innovations to better integrate children from disadvantaged families, reduce school segregation
and provide appropriate training and incentives for teachers that work in problematic
educational environments
The skill development and school careers of disadvantaged children—including Roma
children living in poverty—will largely depend on whether we prove capable of understanding
and accepting evidence regarding the mediating mechanisms between poverty and low school
achievement. This is what we must build on to shape social policy in a way that uses available
resources as efficiently as possible to help these children and their families.
32
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37
APPENDIX
Table A1.
Measurement of Roma ethnicity in the Hungarian Life Course Survey
Ethnic identity Mother Father Mother or father
Chose the Roma identity as his/her first choice in wave 1 2.4 2.6 3.0
Chose the Roma identity as his/her second choice in wave 1 3.4 3.6 3.4
Only chose the Roma identity in wave 2, there as his/her
first choice
0.5 0.5 0.5
Only chose the Roma identity in wave 2, there as his/her
second choice
0.9 0.8 1.0
Did not choose the Roma identity in either case 91.1 74.4 92.2
No parent, or all parental nationality-ethnicity data are
missing
1.7 18.2 0.0
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0
Table A2.
Sample selection of the Hungarian Life Course Survey for our analysis
Number of
observations
Standardized test score
average a
Proportion of students whose
mother
Reading Mathematics
has completed
no more than
8 years of
school
has
completed
higher
education
Based on National Assessment of Basic Competencies data on 8th graders in 2006
Total students 113,092 - -
-
Students
who completed the
reading test
109,906 -0.08 -
-
Students
who completed the
mathematics test
104,566 - -0.06
-
Students
who completed the
reading and mathematics tests
104,533 -0.03 -0.06
-
Students
with test scores and
family background data
88,175 -0.01 -0.04 0.18 0.21
Among them: students whose
families have agreed to
participate in the Hungarian Life
Course Survey
37,027 -0.14 -0.09 0.24 0.19
Based on Hungarian Life Course Survey data
Sample in the first wave b 10,022 -0.11 -0.05 0.21 0.20
Sample in the second wave b 9,300 -0.10 -0.04 0.21 0.20
The sample that forms the basis
of our estimates b 9,056 -0.09 -0.03 0.20 0.20
a Values standardized for the average and standard deviation of national test scores (theoretical average 0,
theoretical standard distribution 1; real averages may differ slightly as not all students' results were used)
b The statistics drawn from the HLCS are weighted values (using the sampling weights)
38
Table A3.
Summary statistics of the family background variables,
Roma and non-Roma subsamples
(weighted averages and standard deviations)
Roma subsample Non-Roma subsample
average
standard
deviation
average
standard
deviation
Biological mother in household 0.96 0.20 0.97 0.18
Non-biological mother in household 0.03 0.17 0.01 0.11
Biological father in household 0.78 0.41 0.72 0.45
Non-biological father in household 0.06 0.24 0.09 0.28
Mother's education: grades 0-8 0.79 0.41 0.15 0.36
Mother's education: vocational school 0.15 0.36 0.25 0.43
Mother's education: high school diploma 0.04 0.20 0.36 0.48
Mother's education: higher education 0.01 0.08 0.22 0.41
Father's education: grades 0-8 0.54 0.50 0.08 0.27
Father's education: vocational school 0.27 0.44 0.37 0.48
Father's education: high school diploma 0.03 0.18 0.21 0.41
Father's education: higher education 0.00 0.06 0.14 0.35
Mother employed 0.24 0.43 0.70 0.00
Father employed 0.35 0.48 0.66 0.47
Proportion of years mother employed while
child was age 0-14
0.30 0.35 0.64 0.32
Proportion of years father employed while child
was age 0-14
0.52 0.45 0.73 0.43
Logarithm of family income 11.68 0.46 12.03 0.46
Logarithm of household size 1.58 0.35 1.39 0.29
Number of unemployed adults 1.39 0.99 0.67 0.81
Size of apartment, m2 per person 17.55 9.62 23.57 10.16
Number of rooms per person 0.55 0.25 0.79 0.29
Bathroom in apartment 0.75 0.43 0.97 0.17
No money for food 0.23 0.42 0.05 0.21
No money for heating 0.35 0.48 0.12 0.32
Received regularized child-rearing assistance 0.67 0.47 0.22 0.42
Free lunch in 8th grade 0.17 0.38 0.08 0.27
Free textbooks in 8th grade 0.87 0.33 0.56 0.50
Mother's education - data missing 0.02 0.13 0.02 0.14
Father's education - data missing 0.15 0.36 0.20 0.40
Family income - data missing 0.06 0.25 0.10 0.30
Size of apartment - data missing 0.05 0.21 0.01 0.11
Number of rooms - data missing 0.00 0.05 0.00 0.06
Bathroom - data missing 0.00 0.05 0.00 0.04
Poverty indicator - data missing 0.01 0.08 0.01 0.08
Region: Central 0.07 0.26 0.22 0.41
Region: Central Transdanubia 0.06 0.23 0.12 0.33
Region: Western Transdanubia 0.06 0.24 0.13 0.34
Region: Southern Transdanubia 0.25 0.43 0.12 0.32
Region: Northern Hungary 0.31 0.46 0.11 0.32
Region: Northern Great Plain 0.18 0.38 0.16 0.37
39
Region: Southern Great Plain 0.08 0.27 0.14 0.34
Budapest 0.05 0.21 0.13 0.34
County seat 0.07 0.26 0.17 0.38
Other city 0.32 0.47 0.35 0.48
Settlement 0.56 0.50 0.34 0.47
Remote settlement 0.18 0.39 0.12 0.32
Number of observations 848 8208
40
Table A4.
Detailed OLS regression estimates for Table 4
(dependent variables: test scores, independent variables: family background)
Dependent variable
Reading test scores Mathematics test scores
Roma
-0.97 -0.23 -1.047 -0.324
(0.053)** (0.055)** (0.048)** (0.050)**
Biological mother in household
0.05 -0.048
(0.231) (0.253)
Non-biological mother in household
-0.19 -0.218
(0.240) (0.266)
Biological father in household
0.01 -0.176
(0.389) (0.217)
Non-biological father in household
-0.03 -0.261
(0.389) (0.219)
Mother's education: grades 0-8
-0.67 -0.659
(0.048)** (0.050)**
Mother's education: vocational school
-0.57 -0.527
(0.038)** (0.042)**
Mother's education: higher education
-0.26 -0.223
(0.033)** (0.038)**
Father's education: grades 0-8
-0.62 -0.708
(0.053)** (0.061)**
Father's education: vocational school
-0.43 -0.54
(0.040)** (0.047)**
Father's education: high school diploma
-0.25 -0.265
(0.039)** (0.047)**
Mother employed
-0.02 -0.008
(0.035) (0.037)
Father employed
0.03 -0.007
(0.041) (0.042)
Proportion of years mother employed while child
was age 0-14
-0.01 -0.007
(0.044) (0.050)
Proportion of years father employed while child
was age 0-14
0.19 0.117
(0.051)** (0.057)*
Logarithm of family income
0.00 0.047
(0.028) (0.031)
Logarithm of household size
-0.05 -0.02
(0.055) (0.062)
Number of unemployed adults
-0.03 -0.02
(0.018) (0.019)
Size of apartment, m2 per person
0.00 0.001
(0.002) (0.002)
Number of rooms per person
0.23 0.227
(0.057)** (0.065)**
Bathroom in apartment
0.14 0.133
(0.062)* (0.062)*
41
No money for food
-0.20 -0.153
(0.050)** (0.052)**
No money for heating
-0.08 -0.058
(0.036)* (0.037)
Received regularized child-rearing assistance
0.04 0
(0.031) (0.032)
Free lunch in 8th grade
-0.16 -0.098
(0.043)** (0.049)*
Free textbooks in 8th grade
-0.09 -0.026
(0.026)** (0.029)
Mother's education - data missing
-0.67 -0.698
(0.220)** (0.240)**
Father's education - data missing
-0.21 -0.594
(0.389) (0.220)**
Family income - data missing
-0.02 -0.036
(0.034) (0.036)
Size of apartment - data missing
-0.14 -0.155
(0.104) (0.104)
Number of rooms - data missing
0.03 0.277
(0.162) (0.241)
Bathroom - data missing
-0.13 0.19
(0.171) (0.184)
Poverty indicator - data missing
0.10 0.102
(0.116) (0.130)
Region: Central
-0.01 -0.077
(0.056) (0.058)
Region: Central Transdanubia
-0.04 -0.02
(0.050) (0.062)
Region: Western Transdanubia
-0.01 0.032
(0.048) (0.058)
Region: Southern Transdanubia
0.02 0.038
(0.051) (0.060)
Region: Northern Hungary
-0.08 -0.062
(0.050) (0.056)
Region: Northern Great Plain
-0.07 -0.072
(0.046) (0.054)
Budapest
0.19 0.212
(0.060)** (0.061)**
County seat
0.15 0.165
(0.038)** (0.044)**
Other city
0.04 0.044
(0.030) (0.034)
Remote settlement
0.04 0.04
(0.040) (0.043)
Constant
-0.02 0.22 0.044 0.054
(0.017) (0.544) (0.019)* (0.394)
Number of observations 9056 9056 8335 8335
R2 0.06 0.27 0.07 0.27
Robust standard errors clustered by school in parentheses
*Significant at 5% level; **Significant at 1% level
42
Table A5.
Summary statistics of the health and home environment variables,
Roma and non-Roma subsamples
(weighted averages and standard deviations)
Roma subsample Non-Roma subsample
average
standard
deviation
average
standard
deviation
Low birth weight 0.17 0.38 0.07 0.25
Poor health (self-evaluation) 0.17 0.37 0.09 0.28
Weight - data missing 0.01 0.10 0.00 0.06
Health - data missing 0.01 0.10 0.01 0.09
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (child's response)
0.34 0.48 0.11 0.31
Often told bedtime stories (child's
response)
0.35 0.48 0.65 0.48
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (parent's response)
0.18 0.38 0.03 0.16
Often told bedtime stories
(parent's response)
0.21 0.41 0.48 0.50
Seldom went hiking with parents
(child's response)
0.76 0.43 0.44 0.50
Cognitive HOME index -1.03 0.98 0.09 0.94
Emotional HOME index -0.17 0.98 0.02 0.98
Storytelling variable missing 0.05 0.22 0.04 0.20
Cognitive HOME variable missing 0.02 0.13 0.01 0.11
Emotional HOME variable
missing
0.04 0.19 0.02 0.15
Number of books less than 50 0.64 0,48 0,09 0,28
Number of books around 50 0,16 0,37 0,11 0,32
Number of books: 50-150 0,11 0,31 0,23 0.42
Number of books: 150-300 0.04 0.20 0.20 0.40
Number of books: 300-600 0.02 0.15 0.17 0.37
Number of books: 600-1000 0.01 0.09 0.09 0.28
Number of books: more than
1000
0.01 0.10 0.11 0.31
Internet connection at home 0.07 0.25 0.51 0.50
Number of books - data missing 0.00 0.07 0.01 0.08
Internet connection - data
missing
0.00 0.06 0.00 0.04
Number of observations 848 8208
43
Table A6.
Items in the short form of the young adolescent HOME scale (HOME-SF)a
Survey
question
Interviewer’s
observation
COGNITIVE SUBSCALE
Has the child more than 20 books? (y/n) X
Is there a musical instrument? (y/n) X
Does the family get a daily newspaper? (y/n) X
Does the child read every week for enjoyment? (y/n) X
Does the family encourage the child to start and keep hobbies? (y/n) X
Does the child get special lessons? (y/n) X
Has the child been in museum last year with any family member? (y/n) X
Has the child been in musical or theatrical performance last year with any
family member? (y/n)
X
When the family watches TV together, do the parents discuss TV program
with the child? (y/n)
X
Is the interior of the home dark and perceptually monotonous? (y/n) X
Are all visible rooms of the apartment reasonably clean? (y/n) X
Are all visible rooms of the apartment minimally cluttered? (y/n) X
Has the building potentially dangerous or health hazards? (y/n) X
EMOTIONAL SUBSCALE
How often is the child expected to clean his/her room? X
How often is the child expected to pick up after himself/herself? X
How often is the child expected to help manage his/her own time
(get up on time, be ready for school)?
X
How often does the whole family get together with relatives or friends? X
How often does the child spend time with his/her father? X
How often does the child spend time with his/her father in outdoor
activities?
X
How often does the child eat a meal with both mother and father? X
44
Sometimes children get so angry at their parents that they say things like
„I hate you” or swear in temper tantrum. In this case would you spank
your child? (y/n)
X
Did you spank your child last week because of bad behaviour? (y/n) X
Mother/Guardian encouraged the child to contribute to the conversation
with the interviewer. (y/n)
X
Mother/Guardian answered the child’s questions or requests verbally
during the interview. (y/n)
X
Mother/Guardian conversed with the child during the interview
(excluding scolding or suspicious comments). (y/n)
X
Mother/Guardian introduces the interviewer to the child by name. (y/n) X
Mother/Guardian’s voice conveyed positive feeling about the child
during the interview. (y/n)
X
a http://www.bls.gov/nls/y79cyaguide/2002/y79chya20gac.pdf, Appendix A.
45
Table A7.
Detailed OLS regression estimates for Table 6
(dependent variables: test scores, independent variables: health,
home environment, school/class fixed effects, family) background
Dependent variable
Reading test scores Mathematics test scores
Roma
-0.97 -0.07 -0.05 -1.05 -0.18 -0.15
(0.053)** (0.072) (0.072) (0.048)** (0.066)** (0.067)*
Low birth weight
-0.09 -0.08 -0.18 -0.16
(0.053) (0.052) (0.052)** (0.052)**
Poor health (self-
evaluation)
-0.14 -0.12 -0.19 -0.17
(0.049)** (0.049)* (0.056)** (0.056)**
Weight - data missing
-0.37 -0.34 -0.24 -0.18
(0.213) (0.208) (0.196) (0.179)
Health - data missing
0.04 0.07 -0.02 0.00
(0.136) (0.134) (0.152) (0.157)
Seldom or never told
bedtime stories (child's
response)
0.00 0.01 0.02 0.03
(0.054) (0.054) (0.053) (0.054)
Often told bedtime
stories (child's response)
0.10 0.09 0.06 0.05
(0.039)* (0.038)* (0.039) (0.039)
Seldom or never told
bedtime stories (parent's
response)
-0.05 -0.07 -0.05 -0.05
(0.077) (0.076) (0.072) (0.072)
Often told
bedtime stories (parent's
response)
0.08 0.06 0.06 0.05
(0.033)* (0.033) (0.036) (0.035)
Seldom went hiking with
parents (child's response)
0.01 0.02 -0.04 -0.02
(0.035) (0.035) (0.036) (0.036)
Cognitive HOME index
0.18 0.16 0.14 0.10
(0.021)** (0.022)** (0.022)** (0.023)**
Emotional HOME index
-0.03 -0.03 -0.04 -0.04
(0.018) (0.019) (0.020)* (0.022)*
Storytelling variable
missing
0.05 0.04 0.04 0.04
(0.082) (0.082) (0.090) (0.088)
Cognitive HOME variable
missing
0.00 -0.02 -0.17 -0.17
(0.147) (0.151) (0.132) (0.131)
Emotional HOME
variable missing
0.14 0.12 0.02 -0.01
(0.118) (0.120) (0.100) (0.100)
Number of books less
than 50
-0.48 -0.42 -0.39 -0.27
(0.073)** (0.076)** (0.087)** (0.087)**
Number of books around
50
-0.36 -0.29 -0.34 -0.21
(0.074)** (0.075)** (0.081)** (0.081)**
Number of books: 50-150
-0.29 -0.24 -0.23 -0.14
(0.061)** (0.063)** (0.072)** (0.072)*
Number of books: 150-
300
-0.16 -0.11 -0.08 -0.01
(0.060)** (0.062) (0.073) (0.073)
Number of books: 300-
600
-0.13 -0.10 -0.09 -0.05
(0.061)* (0.062) (0.069) (0.068)
Number of books: 600-
1000
-0.14 -0.12 -0.10 -0.09
(0.071)* (0.071) (0.080) (0.080)
Internet connection at
home
0.18 0.15 0.27 0.23
(0.037)** (0.039)** (0.039)** (0.040)**
Number of books - data
missing
-0.24 -0.18 -0.15 -0.10
(0.170) (0.183) (0.242) (0.246)
Internet connection data
missing
-0.11 -0.16 -0.07 -0.27
(0.215) (0.208) (0.222) (0.208)
46
Biological mother in
household
-0.31 -0.05
(0.335) (0.321)
Non-biological mother in
household
-0.37 -0.03
(0.337) (0.328)
Biological father in
household
0.12 -0.58
(0.482) (0.563)
Non-biological father in
household
0.18 -0.59
(0.482) (0.562)
Mother's education:
grades 0-8
-0.12 -0.22
(0.068) (0.071)**
Mother's education:
vocational school
-0.18 -0.22
(0.060)** (0.062)**
Mother's education:
higher education
-0.06 -0.10
(0.052) (0.055)
Father's education:
grades 0-8
-0.21 -0.27
(0.076)** (0.086)**
Father's education:
vocational school
-0.16 -0.20
(0.059)** (0.068)**
Father's education: high
school diploma
-0.10 -0.09
(0.059) (0.070)
Mother employed
0.01 0.03
(0.046) (0.048)
Father employed
0.03 -0.04
(0.052) (0.056)
Proportion of years
mother employed while
child was age 0-14
-0.11 -0.08
(0.061) (0.063)
Proportion of years
father employed while
child was age 0-14
0.10 0.16
(0.071) (0.074)*
Logarithm of family
income
-0.03 0.01
(0.040) (0.043)
Logarithm of household
size
-0.10 -0.11
(0.082) (0.082)
Number of unemployed
adults
-0.03 -0.03
(0.027) (0.027)
Size of apartment, m2 per
person
0.00 0.00
(0.002) (0.002)
Number of rooms per
person
-0.11 -0.07
(0.080) (0.091)
Bathroom in apartment
-0.05 -0.02
(0.077) (0.071)
No money for food
-0.03 -0.04
(0.064) (0.061)
No money for heating
0.00 0.02
(0.048) (0.050)
Received regularized
child-rearing assistance
0.07 0.04
(0.044) (0.047)
Free lunch in 8th grade
-0.12 -0.13
(0.064) (0.062)*
Free textbooks in 8th
grade
-0.06 0.03
(0.036) (0.039)
Mother's education - data
missing
-0.50 -0.40
(0.319) (0.310)
Father's education - data
missing
0.08 -0.69
(0.484) (0.564)
Family income - data
missing
-0.05 -0.08
(0.049) (0.057)
Size of apartment - data
missing
-0.05 -0.07
(0.133) (0.119)
Number of rooms - data
missing
0.20 0.53
(0.190) (0.221)*
Bathroom - data missing -0.25 0.19
47
(0.272) (0.228)
Poverty indicator - data
missing
-0.13 0.01
(0.159) (0.195)
Region: Central
-0.49 0.24
(0.351) (0.171)
Region: Central
Transdanubia
0.63 0.67
(0.586) (0.430)
Region: Western
Transdanubia
-0.64 0.77
(0.551) (0.359)*
Region: Southern
Transdanubia
-1.35 -0.34
(0.725) (0.484)
Region: Northern
Hungary
-0.33 -0.05
(0.514) (0.741)
Region: Northern Great
Plain
-0.32 0.05
(0.445) (0.703)
Budapest
-0.01 -0.06
(0.184) (0.200)
County seat
0.05 -0.04
(0.094) (0.119)
Other city
-0.08 -0.06
(0.089) (0.098)
Remote settlement
0.09 0.09
(0.080) (0.074)
Constant
-0.02 1.34 0.04 0.78
(0.017) (0.854) (0.019)* (0.885)
Number of observations 9056 9056 9056 8335 8335 8335
R2 0.06 0.67 0.68 0.07 0.68 0.69
Robust standard errors clustered by school in parentheses
*Significant at 5% level; **Significant at 1% level
Table A8.
The raw and corrected ethnic gap in the indicators of the home environment
Dependent variable Roma
coefficient
Standard
error
Family
background
variables
Number of
observations
R2
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (child's response)
0.233 (0.022)** – 9056 0.03
0.048 (0.036) yes 9056 0.48
Often told bedtime stories
(child's response)
-0.296 (0.022)** – 9056 0.03
-0.023 (0.040) yes 9056 0.50
Seldom or never told bedtime
stories (parent's response)
0.150 (0.019)** – 9056 0.04
0.051 (0.025)* yes 9056 0.47
Often told bedtime stories
(parent's response)
-0.271 (0.019)** – 9056 0.02
-0.029 (0.039) yes 9056 0.52
Seldom went hiking with
parents (child's response)
0.312 (0.021)** – 9056 0.03
0.012 (0.038) yes 9056 0.57
0
Cognitive HOME
index
-1.118 (0.051)** – 9056 0.09
-0.080 (0.070) yes 9056 0.70
0
48
Emotional HOME
index
-0.184 (0.049)** – 9056 0.00
0.070 (0.075) yes 9056 0.61
There are few or no books at
home
0.552 (0.024)** – 9056 0.19
0.235 (0.040)** yes 9056 0.63
There is an Internet
connection at home
-0.438 (0.013)** – 9056 0.05
-0.049 (0.027) yes 9056 0.65
* Significant at 5 %, ** Significant at 1 %.
49
Table A9.
Detailed OLS regression estimates for Table 8
(dependent variable: probability of attending a problematic class,
independent variables: family background, home environment)
Dependent variable: probability of being in a class highly segregated by
ability
(1) (2) (3) (4)
Roma
0.404 0.143 0.207 0.123
(0.028)** (0.029)** (0.029)** (0.029)**
Biological mother in household
-0.074 -0.077
(0.112) (0.114)
Non-biological mother in household
-0.061 -0.083
(0.118) (0.121)
Biological father in household
0.066 0.096
(0.151) (0.163)
Non-biological father in household
0.093 0.118
(0.151) (0.163)
Mother's education: grades 0-8
0.166 0.095
(0.019)** (0.021)**
Mother's education: vocational school
0.081 0.036
(0.014)** (0.015)*
Mother's education: higher education
0.039 0.018
(0.010)** (0.010)
Father's education: grades 0-8
0.095 0.054
(0.023)** (0.023)*
Father's education: vocational school
0.042 0.019
(0.014)** (0.014)
Father's education: high school diploma
0.002 -0.006
(0.012) (0.012)
Mother employed
-0.016 -0.012
(0.016) (0.016)
Father employed
-0.038 -0.035
(0.019)* (0.018)
Proportion of years mother employed while
child was age 0-14
-0.020 -0.017
(0.021) (0.021)
Proportion of years father employed while
child was age 0-14
-0.008 0.003
(0.027) (0.026)
Logarithm of family income
-0.012 -0.008
(0.011) (0.011)
Logarithm of household size
0.008 0.015
(0.025) (0.025)
Number of unemployed adults
-0.001 0.003
(0.009) (0.009)
Size of apartment, m2 per person
0.000 0.001
(0.001) (0.001)
Number of rooms per person -0.074 -0.046
50
(0.024)** (0.024)
Bathroom in apartment
-0.105 -0.077
(0.031)** (0.031)*
No money for food
0.022 0.011
(0.024) (0.023)
No money for heating
0.029 0.021
(0.017) (0.017)
Received regularized child-rearing assistance
-0.021 -0.031
(0.015) (0.015)*
Free lunch in 8th grade
0.055 0.050
(0.024)* (0.024)*
Free textbooks in 8th grade
0.031 0.032
(0.012)** (0.012)**
Mother's education - data missing
-0.024 -0.084
(0.105) (0.108)
Father's education - data missing
0.053 0.070
(0.150) (0.163)
Family income - data missing
-0.011 -0.008
(0.014) (0.014)
Size of apartment - data missing
0.118 0.100
(0.056)* (0.057)
Number of rooms - data missing
-0.093 -0.106
(0.052) (0.055)
Bathroom - data missing
0.026 0.005
(0.095) (0.095)
Poverty indicator - data missing
0.019 0.021
(0.055) (0.056)
Region: Central
0.051 0.063
(0.030) (0.030)*
Region: Central Transdanubia
0.011 0.024
(0.029) (0.029)
Region: Western Transdanubia
-0.049 -0.029
(0.027) (0.026)
Region: Southern Transdanubia
0.069 0.074
(0.035)* (0.034)*
Region: Northern Hungary
0.107 0.115
(0.031)** (0.031)**
Region: Northern Great Plain
0.101 0.095
(0.029)** (0.029)**
Budapest
-0.101 -0.081
(0.030)** (0.030)**
County seat
-0.084 -0.068
(0.020)** (0.020)**
Other city
-0.041 -0.033
(0.020)* (0.020)
Remote settlement
0.016 0.016
(0.023) (0.023)
Seldom or never told bedtime stories (child's
response)
0.043 0.031
(0.022)* (0.020)
Often told bedtime stories (child's response) 0.003 0.001
51
(0.012) (0.012)
Seldom or never told bedtime stories
(parent's response)
0.045 0.032
(0.033) (0.032)
Often told bedtime stories (parent's
response)
-0.018 -0.009
(0.011) (0.011)
Seldom went hiking with parents (child's
response)
0.039 0.023
(0.011)** (0.011)*
Cognitive HOME index
-0.052 -0.029
(0.007)** (0.007)**
Emotional HOME index
0.006 0.006
(0.006) (0.007)
Storytelling variable missing
-0.019 -0.008
(0.022) (0.021)
Cognitive HOME variable missing
0.080 0.057
(0.056) (0.052)
Emotional HOME variable missing
-0.044 -0.029
(0.028) (0.027)
Number of books less than 50
0.156 0.072
(0.025)** (0.026)**
Number of books around 50
0.089 0.041
(0.020)** (0.021)
Number of books: 50-150
0.064 0.037
(0.015)** (0.016)*
Number of books: 150-300
0.030 0.006
(0.014)* (0.015)
Number of books: 300-600
0.021 0.010
(0.013) (0.013)
Number of books: 600-1000
-0.006 -0.008
(0.012) (0.012)
Internet connection at home
-0.071 -0.028
(0.012)** (0.011)*
Number of books - data missing
-0.029 -0.064
(0.048) (0.044)
Internet connection - data missing
0.094 0.111
(0.096) (0.092)
Constant
0.177 0.421 0.154 0.275
(0.008)** (0.173)* (0.017)** (0.179)
Number of observations 9056 9056 9056 9056
R2 0.07 0.18 0.16 0.20
Robust standard errors clustered by school in parentheses
*Significant at 5% level; **Significant at 1% level
52
Figure A1.
Distribution of Roma and non-Roma students by family background index
Roma distribution: continuous line (average: 0.23);
non-Roma distribution: dashed line (average: 0.57)
0 .2 .4 .6 .8 1
Family background index
3.2 Intricacies of Ethnicity: A Comparative Study of Minority
Identity Formation during Adolescence
219
3.3 Inclusive Education for Children of Immigrants: The Turkish
Second Generation in Sweden, the Netherlands and
Austria
237
4 Inclusive Workplace
Bibliography
Blanchard, Kenneth H. 2010. “The Power Of Vision.” Pp. 17–30 in Leading
at a Higher Lever: Blanchard on How to Be a High-performing Leader. Harlow:
Financial Times Prentice Hall.
Heinemeier, Hansson D. and Jason Fried. 2010. “Takedowns.” Pp. 12–19 in
ReWork: Change the Way You Work Forever. London: Vermilion.
Ligeti, George. 2012. “Chapter 1 omg!” Pp. 16–33 in OMG! Not Training Again.
Budapest: HumanRobot.
255
4.1 Leading at a Higher Level
256
Chapter 2
THE POWER OF VISION
Jesse Stoner, Ken Blanchard,
and Drea Zigarmi
When leaders who are leading at a higher level understand
the role of the triple bottom line as the right target—to be
the provider of choice, employer of choice, and investment of
choice—they are ready to focus everyone’s energy on a compelling
vision.
The Importance of Vision
Why is it so important for leaders to have clear vision? Because
Leadership is about going somewhere.
If you and your people don’t know
where you are going,
your leadership doesn’t matter.
Download at WoweBook.Com
18
Leading at a Higher Level
Alice learned this lesson in Alice in Wonderland when she was
searching for a way out of Wonderland and came to a fork in the
road. “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from
here?” she asked the Cheshire Cat. “That depends a good deal on
where you want to go,” the cat responded. Alice replied that she
really did not much care. The smiling cat told her in no uncertain
terms: “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.”
Jesse Stoner conducted an extensive study that demonstrated
the powerful impact of vision and leadership on organizational
performance.1 She collected information from the team members
of more than 500 leaders. The results were striking. Leaders who
demonstrated strong visionary leadership had the highestperforming
teams. Leaders with good management skills but
without vision had average team performance. Leaders who were
identified as weak in vision and management skills had poorperforming
teams.
The biggest impediment blocking most managers from being
great leaders is the lack of a clear vision for them to serve. In
fewer than 10 percent of the organizations we have visited were
members clear about the vision. This lack of shared vision causes
people to become inundated with multiple priorities, duplication
of efforts, false starts, and wasted energy—none of which supports
the triple bottom line.
A vision builds trust, collaboration, interdependence, motivation,
and mutual responsibility for success. Vision helps people
make smart choices, because their decisions are being made with
the end result in mind. As goals are accomplished, the answer to
“What next?” becomes clear. Vision allows us to act from a proactive
stance, moving toward what we want rather than reactively
away from what we don’t want. Vision empowers and excites us
to reach for what we truly desire. As the late management guru
Peter Drucker said, “The best way to predict your future is to create
it.”
Download at WoweBook.Com
19
The Power of Vision
Effective Versus Ineffective Vision Statements
A lot of organizations already have vision statements, but most of
them seem irrelevant when you look at the organization and
where it’s going. The purpose of a vision statement is to create an
aligned organization where everyone is working together toward
the same desired ends.
The vision provides guidance for daily decisions
so that people are aiming at the right target,
not working at cross-purposes.
How do you know if your vision statement works? Here’s the
test: Is it hidden in a forgotten file or framed on a wall solely for
decoration? If so, it’s not working. Is it actively used to guide
everyday decision making? If the answer is yes, your vision statement
is working.
Creating a Vision That Really Works
Why don’t more leaders have a vision? We believe it’s a lack of
knowledge. Many leaders—such as former president George H.
W. Bush—say they just don’t get the “vision thing.” They
acknowledge that vision is desirable, but they’re unsure how to
create it. To these leaders, vision seems elusive—something that
is magically bestowed only on the fortunate few. Intrigued by the
possibility of making vision accessible for all leaders, Jesse Stoner
teamed up with Drea Zigarmi to identify the key elements of a
compelling vision—one that would inspire people and provide
direction. In “From Vision to Reality,” Jesse and Drea identified
three key elements of a compelling vision:2
• Significant purpose: What business are you in?
• A picture of the future: What will the future look like
if you are successful?
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• Clear values: What guides your behavior and decisions
on a daily basis?
A vision must include all three elements to be inspiring and
enduring. Let’s explore these elements with some real-world
examples.
Significant Purpose
The first element of a compelling vision is a significant purpose.
This higher purpose is your organization’s reason for existence. It
answers the question “Why?” rather than just explaining what
you do. It clarifies, from your customers’ viewpoint, what business
you are really in.
CNN is in the “hard spot news-breaking business.” Their customers
are busy people who need breaking news on demand.
Their business is to provide hard news as it unfolds—not to provide
entertainment. According to CNN, the typical family today is
too busy to sit in front of the television at 7 p.m. Dad has a second
job, Mom is working late, and the kids are involved in activities.
Therefore, CNN’s purpose is to provide news 24 hours a day. This
helps CNN employees answer the questions “What are my priorities?”
and “Where should I focus my energy?”
Walt Disney started his theme parks with a clear purpose. He
said, “We’re in the happiness business.” That is very different
from being in the theme park business. Clear purpose drives
everything the cast members (employees) do with their guests
(customers). Being in the happiness business helps cast members
understand their primary role in the company.
A wonderful organization in Orlando, Florida, called Give Kids
the World, is an implementation operation for the Make-A-Wish
Foundation. Dying children who always wanted to go to Disney
World, SeaWorld, or other attractions in Orlando can get a
chance through Give Kids the World. Over the years, the organization
has brought more than 50,000 families to Orlando for a
week at no cost to them. The organization thinks having a sick
child is a family issue; therefore, the whole family goes to Orlando.
20
Leading at a Higher Level
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When you ask the employees what business they are in, they tell
you they’re in the memory business—they want to create memories
for these kids and their families.
On a visit to Give Kids the World, one of our colleagues passed
a man who was cutting the grass. Curious about how widely
understood the organization’s mission was, our colleague asked
the man, “What business are you in here at Give Kids the World?”
The man smiled and said, “We make memories.”
“How do you make memories?” our associate asked. “You just
cut the grass.”
The man said, “I certainly don’t make memories by continuing
to cut the grass if a family comes by. You can always tell who
the sick kid is, so I ask that youngster whether he or she or a
brother or sister wants to help me with my chores.”
Isn’t that a wonderful attitude? It keeps him focused on servicing
the folks who come to Give Kids the World.
Great organizations have a deep and noble sense
of purpose—a significant purpose—that inspires
excitement and commitment.
When work is meaningful and connected to what we truly
desire, we can unleash a productive and creative power we never
imagined. But purpose alone is not enough, because it does not
tell you where you’re going.
A Picture of the Future
The second element of a compelling vision is a picture of the
future. This picture of the end result should not be abstract. It
should be a mental image you can actually see. The power of
imagery has been described by many sports psychologists, including
Charles Garfield in Peak Performance: Mental Training
Techniques of the World’s Greatest Athletes. Numerous studies have
21
The Power of Vision
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demonstrated that not only does mental imagery enhance performance,
but it enhances intrinsic motivation as well.3
CNN’s picture of the future is not something vague like being
the premier network news station or being “number one.” It’s a
picture you can actually create a mental image of: “To be viewed
in every nation on the planet in English and in the language of
that region.”
Walt Disney’s picture of the future was expressed in the charge
he gave every cast member: “Keep the same smile on people’s
faces when they leave the park as when they entered.” Disney didn’t
care whether a guest was in the park two hours or ten hours.
He just wanted to keep them smiling. After all, they were in the
happiness business. Your picture should focus on the end result,
not the process of getting there.
At Give Kids the World, their picture of the future is that in the
last week of the lives of youngsters who have been there, they will
still be laughing and talking to their families about their time in
Orlando.
Some people mistakenly use the Apollo Moon Project as an
example of a vision. It is a wonderful example of the power of creating
a picture of the future, but it’s not an example of a vision.
In 1961, when President John F. Kennedy articulated a picture of
the future—to place a man on the moon by the end of the 1960s
and bring him home safely—the United States had not even
invented the technology to accomplish it. To achieve that goal,
NASA overcame seemingly insurmountable obstacles, demonstrating
the power of articulating a picture of the future.
However, once the goal was achieved, NASA never re-created its
spectacular achievement, because it was not linked to a significant
purpose. There was nothing to answer the question “Why?”
Was the purpose to “beat the Russians” or to “begin the Space
Defense Initiative” or—in the spirit of Star Trek—“to boldly go
where no one has gone before”? Because there was no clear purpose,
there was no way to guide decision making going forward
22
Leading at a Higher Level
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and answer the question “What next?” The second element—a
picture of the future—is powerful, but it alone does not create an
enduring vision.
Clear Values
The third element of a compelling vision is having clear values.
High performing organizations have clear values. Values define
leadership and how employees act on a day-to-day basis while
doing their work.
Values provide guidelines for how you should proceed as you
pursue your purpose and picture of the future. They answer the
questions “What do I want to live by?” and “How?” They need to
be clearly described so that you know exactly what behaviors
demonstrate that the value is being lived. Values need to be consistently
acted on, or they are only good intentions. They need to
resonate with the personal values of the members of the organization
so that people truly choose to live by them.
The values need to support the organization’s purpose.
Because CNN is in the journalism business, not the entertainment
business, its values are “to provide accurate, responsible
journalism and to be responsive to the news needs of people
around the world.” These values help reporters and producers
make on-the-spot decisions about news coverage and would be
quite different if CNN were in the entertainment business.
Robert Johnson founded Johnson & Johnson for the purpose of
alleviating pain and disease. The company’s purpose and values,
reflected in its credo, continue to guide the company. Using its
values to guide its decision making, Johnson & Johnson quickly
recalled all Tylenol capsules throughout the United States during
a 1982 tampering incident that was localized in the Chicago
area. The immediate cost was substantial, but not knowing the
extent of the tampering, the company didn’t want to risk anyone’s
safety. In the end, Johnson & Johnson’s triple bottom line
was served, demonstrated by the company’s long-term gains in
reputation and profitability.
23
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Most organizations that do have values either have too many
values or have not rank-ordered them.4 Research done by Ken
Blanchard and Michael O’Connor shows that people can’t focus
on more than three or four values that really impact behavior.
They also found that values must be rank-ordered to be effective.
Why? Because life is about value conflicts. When these conflicts
arise, people need to know which value they should focus on.
The Disney theme parks have four rank-ordered values: safety,
courtesy, the show, and efficiency. Why is safety the highest-ranked
value? Walt Disney knew that if guests were carried out of one of
his parks on a stretcher, they would not have the same smiles on
their faces leaving the park as they had when they entered.
The second-ranked value, courtesy, is all about the friendly
attitude you expect at a Disney park. Why is it important to know
that it’s the number-two value? Suppose one of the Disney cast
members is answering a guest question in a friendly, courteous
manner, and he hears a scream that’s not coming from a roller
coaster. If that cast member wants to act according to the park’s
rank-ordered values, he will excuse himself as quickly and politely
as possible and race toward the scream. Why? Because the
number-one value just called. If the values were not rank-ordered
and the cast member was enjoying the interaction with the guest,
he might say, “They’re always yelling in the park,” and not move
in the direction of the scream. Later somebody could come to that
cast member and say, “You were the closest to the scream. Why
didn’t you move?” The response could be, “I was dealing with our
courtesy value.” Life is a series of value conflicts. There will be
times when you can’t act on two values at the same time.
For a vision to endure, you need all three elements—a significant
purpose, a picture of the future, and clear values—to guide
behavior on a day-by-day basis. Martin Luther King, Jr. outlined
his vision in his “I Have a Dream” speech. By describing a world
where his children “will not be judged by the color of their skin
but by the content of their character,” he created powerful and
specific images arising from the values of brotherhood, respect,
24
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and freedom for all—values that resonate with the founding values
of the United States. King’s vision continues to mobilize and
guide people beyond his lifetime because it illuminates a significant
purpose, provides a picture of the future, and describes
values that resonate with people’s hopes and dreams.
A Compelling Vision Creates a Culture of Greatness
A compelling vision creates a strong culture in which the energy
of everyone in the organization is aligned. This results in trust,
customer satisfaction, an energized and committed workforce,
and profitability. Conversely, when an organization does not live
up to its stated values, employee and customer trust and commitment
erode, negatively impacting all aspects of the bottom line.
For example, Ford lost credibility and market share when its stated
value—“Quality Is Job One”—was tested by its hesitation to
take responsibility in the recall of the defective Firestone tires on
its Explorer sport utility vehicle in 2000.5
Vision Is the Place to Start
Research clearly demonstrates the extraordinary impact of a
shared vision, or core ideology, on long-term financial performance.
The cumulative stock returns of the HPOs researched by
Collins and Porras were six times greater than the “successful”
companies they examined and 15 times greater than the general
market over a 50-year period of time!6 For this reason, vision is
the place to start if you want to improve your organization’s HPO
SCORES and hit the target.
Research has demonstrated time and again that an essential
characteristic of great leaders is their ability to mobilize people
around a shared vision.7
If it’s not in service of a shared vision, leadership can become
self-serving. Leaders begin to think their people are there to serve
them, instead of the customer. Organizations can become
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26
Leading at a Higher Level
self-serving bureaucracies where leaders focus their energies on
recognition, power, and status, rather than the organization’s
larger purpose and goals.The results of this type of behavior have
been all too evident recently at Enron, WorldCom, and others.
Once the leader has clarified and shared the vision, he can
focus on serving and being responsive to the needs of the people,
understanding that the role of leadership is to remove barriers
and help people achieve the vision. The greatest leaders mobilize
others by coalescing people around a shared vision. Sometimes
leaders don’t get it at first, but the great ones eventually do.
Louis Gerstner, Jr. is a perfect example. When Gerstner took the
helm of IBM in 1993—amidst turmoil and instability as the company’s
annual net losses reached a record $8 billion—he was quoted
as saying, “The last thing IBM needs is a vision.” A lot of people
asked us what we thought about that statement. Our reply was, “It
depends on how he defines vision. If he means a ‘pie-in-the-sky’
dream, he’s absolutely right.The ship is sinking. But if all he’s doing
is plugging the holes, the ship isn’t going anywhere.” We were
amused to read an article in The NewYork Times8 two years later. In
that article, Gerstner conceded that IBM had lost the war for the
desktop operating system, acknowledging that the acquisition of
Lotus signified that the company had failed to plan properly for its
future. He admitted that he and his management team now “spent
a lot of time thinking ahead.” Once Gerstner understood the importance
of vision, an incredible turnaround occurred. It became clear
that the company’s source of strength would be in integrated solutions
and resisted pressures to split the company. In 1995, delivering
the keynote address at the computer industry trade show,
Gerstner articulated IBM’s new vision—that network computing
would drive the next phase of industry growth and would be the
company’s overarching strategy. That year, IBM began a series of
acquisitions that positioned services to become the company’s
fastest-growing segment, with growth at more than 20 percent per
year. This extraordinary turnaround demonstrated that the most
important thing IBM needed was a vision—a shared vision.
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If an organization’s vision is compelling, the triple bottom line
is served. Success goes way beyond mere financial rewards. Vision
generates tremendous energy, excitement, and passion, because
people feel they are making a difference. They know what they
are doing and why. There is a strong sense of trust and respect.
Managers don’t try to control, but rather let others assume
responsibility, because people know they are part of an aligned
whole. People assume responsibility for their own actions. They
take charge of their future, rather than passively waiting for it to
happen. There is room for creativity and risk taking. People can
make their contributions in their own way, and those differences
are respected, because people know they are in the same boat—
all part of a larger whole going “full steam ahead!”
Vision Can Exist Anywhere in an Organization
You don’t have to wait for an organizational vision to begin. Vision
is the responsibility of every leader at every level of the organization.
It’s possible for leaders of departments or teams to create shared
visions for their departments even when the rest of the organization
doesn’t have one. Consider our work helping a tax department in a
Fortune 500 company. The leader of the department stated:
“We began to understand our own and each others’ hopes
and dreams and discovered how close they were. We found
ways to work together more effectively and began to enjoy
work a lot more. We discovered what business we were
really in: ‘Providing financial information to help leaders
make good business decisions.’ As a result, we began to
partner more effectively with business leaders. Our department
gained more credibility in the company, and other
departments began asking us what we had done to make
such a turnaround. They became interested in creating a
vision for their own department. It was contagious.”
Too often, leaders complain that they can’t have a vision
because the larger organization doesn’t have one. Again, it’s not
27
The Power of Vision
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necessary to wait. The power of vision will work for you and your
team, regardless of your level in the organization.
Make Your Vision a Reality
In their book Full Steam Ahead! Unleash the Power of Vision in Your
Company andYour Life, Ken Blanchard and Jesse Stoner define vision
as “knowing who you are, where you’re going, and what will guide
your journey.”9 Knowing who you are means having a significant
purpose. Where you’re going means having a picture of the future.
What will guide your journey are clear values. However, vision alone
is not enough. For a leader to ensure that the vision becomes a
reality—a shared vision that mobilizes people—Ken and Jesse identify
three important guidelines that people must follow: How the
vision is created, how it’s communicated, and how it’s lived.
How It’s Created
The process of creating the vision is as important as what the
vision says. Instead of simply taking the top management to a
retreat to put the vision together and then announcing it to others,
encourage dialogue about the vision. While the initial
responsibility for drafting an organizational vision rests with the
top management, the organization needs to put in place mechanisms
to give others an opportunity to help shape the vision—to
put their thumbprint on it.
For a departmental or team vision, it’s possible to craft the
vision as a team. Although the leader must have a sense of where
he’s going, it’s important that he trusts and utilizes the knowledge
and skills of the people on the team to get the best vision.
Regardless of how you initially draft the vision, it’s important
that you get input from those it affects before you finalize it. Ask
people these questions: “Would you like to work for an organization
that has this vision? Can you see where you fit in the vision?
Does it help you set priorities? Does it provide guidelines for making
decisions? Is it exciting and motivating? Have we left anything
28
Leading at a Higher Level
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29
The Power of Vision
out? Should we delete anything?” Involving people will deepen
their understanding and commitment and create a better vision.
How It’s Communicated
Creating a vision—for your organization or department, for your
work, and for your life—is a journey, not a one-time activity.
In some organizations, a vision statement may be found
framed on the wall, but it provides no guidance or, worse, has
nothing to do with the reality of how things actually are. This
turns people off. Visioning is an ongoing process; you need to keep
it alive. It’s important to keep talking about the vision and referring
to it as much as possible. Max DePree, the legendary former
chairman of Herman Miller and author of Leadership Is an Art,
said that in his visionary role, he had to be like a third-grade
teacher. He had to keep on saying it over and over and over until
people got it right, right, right!The more you focus on your vision,
the clearer it will become, and the more deeply you will understand
it. In fact, aspects of what you thought was the vision may
change over time, but its essence will remain.
How It’s Lived
The moment you identify your vision, you need to behave as if it
were happening right now.Your actions need to be congruent with
your vision. As others see you living the vision, they will believe you
are serious, and this will help deepen their understanding and commitment.Two
strategies will support your efforts to live your vision:
• Always focus on your vision. Your vision should be the
foundation for your organization. If an obstacle or
unforeseen event throws you off-course, you may have to
change your short-term goals, but your vision should be
long-lasting. Change is bound to happen. Unforeseen
events are bound to occur. Find a way to reframe what is
happening as a challenge or opportunity on the road to
living your vision.
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30
Leading at a Higher Level
• Show the courage of commitment. True commitment
begins when you take action. There will be fears;
feel them and move ahead. It takes courage to create a
vision, and it takes courage to act on it. In the words of
Goethe, “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin
it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”
Vision and Leadership
Vision always comes back to leadership. People look to their formal
leaders for vision and direction. While leaders should involve
people in shaping direction, the ultimate responsibility for ensuring
and maintaining a vision remains with the leaders and cannot
be delegated to others. Creating a vision is not an activity that
can be checked off a list. It’s one of the most critical ongoing roles
of a successful leader. It means the difference between high and
average performance, whether it’s an entire organization, a
department, or a team.
Once a vision is agreed upon, it is up to the leader to ensure
that people respond to the vision. The leader’s job is to support
people in accomplishing the vision by removing barriers; by
ensuring that policies, practices, and systems make it easier for
them to act on the vision; and by holding themselves, their peers,
and their people accountable for acting consistently with the
vision. This way people serve the vision, not the leader.
Vision calls an organization to be truly great, not merely to
beat the competition and get big numbers. A magnificent vision
articulates people’s hopes and dreams, touches their hearts and
spirits, and helps them see how they can contribute. It aims
everyone in the right direction.
COMPANION
ONLINE
RESOURCE
Visit www.LeadingAtAHigherLevel.com
to access the free virtual conference titled
Set Your Sights on the Right Target and Vision.
Use the password “Target” for your FREE access.
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310
Leading at a Higher Level
Chapter 2
1 Jesse Stoner, Visionary Leadership, Management, and High
Performing Work Units (doctoral dissertation, University of
Massachusetts, 1988).
2 Jesse Stoner and Drea Zigarmi, “From Vision to Reality”
(Escondido, CA: The Ken Blanchard Companies, 1993).
The elements of a compelling vision were also described
by Stoner in “Realizing Your Vision” (Provo, UT: Executive
Excellence, 1990)
3 Charles Garfield and Hal Bennett, Peak Performance:
Mental Training Techniques of the World’s Greatest Athletes
(New York: Warner Books, 1989).
4 Ken Blanchard and Michael O’Connor, Managing by
Values (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 1997).
5 Ford Motor Company documents indicate that company
officials had data that Firestone tires installed on
Explorer sport-utility vehicles had little or no margin for
safety in top-speed driving at the tire pressures that Ford
recommended. The papers were part of a collection of
documents that Congressional investigators released
before the third round of Congressional hearings investigating
Ford’s and Bridgestone/Firestone Inc.’s handling
of tire failures.
6 Jim Collins and Jerry Porras, Built to Last: Successful
Habits of Visionary Companies (New York: HarperCollins,
1994).
7 Research studies described in Leaders: The Strategies for
Taking Charge by Warren Bennis, 1985, and The Leadership
Challenge by Kouzes and Posner, among others.
8 New York Times, August 2, 1995.
9 Ken Blanchard and Jesse Stoner, Full Steam Ahead:
Unleash the Power of Vision in Your Company and Your Life
(San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 2003).
Download at WoweBook.Com
4.2 Takedowns
272
CHAPTER
TAKEDOWNS
Ignore the real world
“That would never work in the real world.” You hear it all the time when you tell people
about a fresh idea.
This real world sounds like an awfully depressing place to live. It’s a place where new
ideas, unfamiliar approaches, and foreign concepts always lose. The only things that win are
what people already know and do, even if those things are flawed and inefficient.
Scratch the surface and you’ll find these “real world” inhabitants are filled with pessimism
and despair. They expect fresh concepts to fail. They assume society isn’t ready for or
capable of change.
Even worse, they want to drag others down into their tomb. If you’re hopeful and
ambitious, they’ll try to convince you your ideas are impossible. They’ll say you’re wasting
your time.
Don’t believe them. That world may be real for them, but it doesn’t mean you have to live
in it.
We know because our company fails the real-world test in all kinds of ways. In the real
world, you can’t have more than a dozen employees spread out in eight different cities on
two continents. In the real world, you can’t attract millions of customers without any
salespeople or advertising. In the real world, you can’t reveal your formula for success to
the rest of the world. But we’ve done all those things and prospered.
The real world isn’t a place, it’s an excuse. It’s a justification for not trying. It has nothing
to do with you.
Learning from mistakes is overrated
In the business world, failure has become an expected rite of passage. You hear all the time
how nine out of ten new businesses fail. You hear that your business’s chances are slim to
none. You hear that failure builds character. People advise, “Fail early and fail often.”
With so much failure in the air, you can’t help but breathe it in. Don’t inhale. Don’t get
fooled by the stats. Other people’s failures are just that: other people’s failures.
If other people can’t market their product, it has nothing to do with you. If other people
can’t build a team, it has nothing to do with you. If other people can’t price their services
properly, it has nothing to do with you. If other people can’t earn more than they spend …
well, you get it.
Another common misconception: You need to learn from your mistakes. What do you
really learn from mistakes? You might learn what not to do again, but how valuable is that?
You still don’t know what you should do next.
Contrast that with learning from your successes. Success gives you real ammunition.
When something succeeds, you know what worked—and you can do it again. And the next
time, you’ll probably do it even better.
Failure is not a prerequisite for success. A Harvard Business School study found alreadysuccessful
entrepreneurs are far more likely to succeed again (the success rate for their
future companies is 34 percent). But entrepreneurs whose companies failed the first time
had almost the same follow-on success rate as people starting a company for the first time:
just 23 percent. People who failed before have the same amount of success as people who
have never tried at all.* Success is the experience that actually counts.
That shouldn’t be a surprise: It’s exactly how nature works. Evolution doesn’t linger on
past failures, it’s always building upon what worked. So should you.
Planning is guessing
Unless you’re a fortune-teller, long-term business planning is a fantasy. There are just too
many factors that are out of your hands: market conditions, competitors, customers, the
economy, etc. Writing a plan makes you feel in control of things you can’t actually control.
Why don’t we just call plans what they really are: guesses. Start referring to your business
plans as business guesses, your financial plans as financial guesses, and your strategic plans
as strategic guesses. Now you can stop worrying about them as much. They just aren’t worth
the stress.
When you turn guesses into plans, you enter a danger zone. Plans let the past drive the
future. They put blinders on you. “This is where we’re going because, well, that’s where we
said we were going.” And that’s the problem: Plans are inconsistent with improvisation.
And you have to be able to improvise. You have to be able to pick up opportunities that
come along. Sometimes you need to say, “We’re going in a new direction because that’s
what makes sense today.”
The timing of long-range plans is screwed up too. You have the most information when
you’re doing something, not before you’ve done it. Yet when do you write a plan? Usually
it’s before you’ve even begun. That’s the worst time to make a big decision.
Now this isn’t to say you shouldn’t think about the future or contemplate how you might
attack upcoming obstacles. That’s a worthwhile exercise. Just don’t feel you need to write it
down or obsess about it. If you write a big plan, you’ll most likely never look at it anyway.
Plans more than a few pages long just wind up as fossils in your file cabinet.
Give up on the guesswork. Decide what you’re going to do this week, not this year. Figure
out the next most important thing and do that. Make decisions right before you do
something, not far in advance.
It’s OK to wing it. Just get on the plane and go. You can pick up a nicer shirt, shaving
cream, and a toothbrush once you get there.
Working without a plan may seem scary. But blindly following a plan that has no
relationship with reality is even scarier.
Why grow?
People ask, “How big is your company?” It’s small talk, but they’re not looking for a small
answer. The bigger the number, the more impressive, professional, and powerful you sound.
“Wow, nice!” they’ll say if you have a hundred-plus employees. If you’re small, you’ll get an
“Oh … that’s nice.” The former is meant as a compliment; the latter is said just to be polite.
Why is that? What is it about growth and business? Why is expansion always the goal?
What’s the attraction of big besides ego? (You’ll need a better answer than “economies of
scale.”) What’s wrong with finding the right size and staying there?
Do we look at Harvard or Oxford and say, “If they’d only expand and branch out and hire
thousands more professors and go global and open other campuses all over the world …
then they’d be great schools.” Of course not. That’s not how we measure the value of these
institutions. So why is it the way we measure businesses?
Maybe the right size for your company is five people. Maybe it’s forty. Maybe it’s two
hundred. Or maybe it’s just you and a laptop. Don’t make assumptions about how big you
should be ahead of time. Grow slow and see what feels right—premature hiring is the death
of many companies. And avoid huge growth spurts too—they can cause you to skip right
over your appropriate size.
Small is not just a stepping-stone. Small is a great destination in itself.
Have you ever noticed that while small businesses wish they were bigger, big businesses
dream about being more agile and flexible? And remember, once you get big, it’s really
hard to shrink without firing people, damaging morale, and changing the entire way you do
business.
Ramping up doesn’t have to be your goal. And we’re not talking just about the number of
employees you have either. It’s also true for expenses, rent, IT infrastructure, furniture, etc.
These things don’t just happen to you. You decide whether or not to take them on. And if
you do take them on, you’ll be taking on new headaches, too. Lock in lots of expenses and
you force yourself into building a complex businesss—one that’s a lot more difficult and
stressful to run.
Don’t be insecure about aiming to be a small business. Anyone who runs a business that’s
sustainable and profitable, whether it’s big or small, should be proud.
Workaholism
Our culture celebrates the idea of the workaholic. We hear about people burning the
midnight oil. They pull all-nighters and sleep at the office. It’s considered a badge of honor
to kill yourself over a project. No amount of work is too much work.
Not only is this workaholism unnecessary, it’s stupid. Working more doesn’t mean you
care more or get more done. It just means you work more.
Workaholics wind up creating more problems than they solve. First off, working like that
just isn’t sustainable over time. When the burnout crash comes—and it will—it’ll hit that
much harder.
Workaholics miss the point, too. They try to fix problems by throwing sheer hours at
them. They try to make up for intellectual laziness with brute force. This results in inelegant
solutions.
They even create crises. They don’t look for ways to be more efficient because they
actually like working overtime. They enjoy feeling like heroes. They create problems (often
unwittingly) just so they can get off on working more.
Workaholics make the people who don’t stay late feel inadequate for “merely” working
reasonable hours. That leads to guilt and poor morale all around. Plus, it leads to an ass-inseat
mentality—people stay late out of obligation, even if they aren’t really being
productive.
If all you do is work, you’re unlikely to have sound judgments. Your values and decision
making wind up skewed. You stop being able to decide what’s worth extra effort and what’s
not. And you wind up just plain tired. No one makes sharp decisions when tired.
In the end, workaholics don’t actually accomplish more than nonworkaholics. They may
claim to be perfectionists, but that just means they’re wasting time fixating on
inconsequential details instead of moving on to the next task.
Workaholics aren’t heroes. They don’t save the day, they just use it up. The real hero is
already home because she figured out a faster way to get things done.
Enough with “entrepreneurs”
Let’s retire the term entrepreneur. It’s outdated and loaded with baggage. It smells like a
members-only club. Everyone should be encouraged to start his own business, not just some
rare breed that self-identifies as entrepreneurs.
There’s a new group of people out there starting businesses. They’re turning profits yet
never think of themselves as entrepreneurs. A lot of them don’t even think of themselves as
business owners. They are just doing what they love on their own terms and getting paid
for it.
So let’s replace the fancy-sounding word with something a bit more down-to-earth.
Instead of entrepreneurs, let’s just call them starters. Anyone who creates a new business is
a starter. You don’t need an MBA, a certificate, a fancy suit, a briefcase, or an aboveaverage
tolerance for risk. You just need an idea, a touch of confidence, and a push to get
started.
*Leslie Berlin, “Try, Try Again, or Maybe Not,” New York Times, Mar. 21, 2009.
4.3 OMG!
281
16
chapter 1 omg!
Team: brrrr!
Why is the word "team" being used so often
in the corporate world, or in the world of work
at all? Teams compete in sports and in games.
Companies, local government departments, or
NGOs have rather built little communities and
teams do not exist in civilian life at all.
Well, to be precise they do, but only in our
heads. This is what makes playing in "teams"
reality and this is the line along which people
will identify with either the blue or red team
(telecommunications company, TV channel,
food chainstore). This is the phenomenon the
business world has learned to exploit so well.
If, let's say, we consider ourselves part of the
Monkey Informatics team, then we will get into
battle against Donkey Software with much
greater vehemence and determination on the
battlefield of business. Once we have
established team consciousness among the
17
team members, then they can work 18 instead
of 8 hours a day, and are prepared to commit
smaller or greater infringements or acts of
immorality to the detriment of the other
company, motivated purely by a desire to
"win".
To win the "competition". But what
competition? Is it really a competition? Is there
a start and a finish line? Is there a moment
when somebody blows the whistle to signal the
end of the match and we know whether it's the
Monkeys or the Donkeys who have won? In
reality the winners are the owners, who take
their winnings home at the end of the year in
the shape of dividends. They, more often then
not, have a share in the Monkey and Donkey
company alike.
Training is often used to build a team. This
is even though real team building should not
be achieved at a place distant from work and
not with the involvement of an outside figure,
but rather during normal business hours at
work.
Team is not built by the training session or
the trainer, but by the leader and the
18
community itself. Team is built on an average
busy Thursday, or in the evening when the
server suddenly breaks down, but the
assignment must be completed by morning the
next day the latest. And there is a leader and
all the staff members are ready to join hands
and without concern for themselves or for the
others, they overcome the situation and tackle
the problem. They do it for each other. Not out
of fear of the upcoming deadline, and not for
praise or money; but simply for each other.
Now, that is team building. All the rest is
maraschino cherry on top of the cake.
If a set of people does not evolve into a real
community (all right, let's call it a "team")
sooner or later, it is probably due to poor
organisational climate. Company culture is
shaped and developed by the management.
humanrobot: Is it not food for thought when
advisers - for very high hourly rates - have no
alternative but to advise the top management of a
company of about ten thousand employees that they
should - at least once a week - have lunch together
with the workers in the company canteen?
19
Road to training
All training must serve the improvement of
the organisation. Training programmes range
on a very wide scale, but if training is not part
of a consciously thought-out and implemented
building/development process, then training
has very little to add.
Where do things go astray? Some training
sessions just don't work; that's happened to
me, too. Also there are bad trainers. But the
seed of poor training is always sown during the
preliminary ordering phase. This may be a
realistic threat when
1. the expectations and responsibilities of
the parties are not clarified,
2. training is wanted because there's some
money left at the end of the year, or when
there is not enough money and the client is
seeking to get a bit of a facelift rather than
root-level improvement,
3. client has some hidden objective or
expectation of training,
20
4. the to-be participants do not have the
faintest clue of what their boss has got in store
for them.
When the expectations and
responsibilities of the parties are not
clarified: the client cannot clearly express
what he wants to achieve through training; the
developers – in the hope of financial and
professional gains – are willing to go into any
length to please the client and they do not
squeeze out all the required information; the
participants only spring to attention when they
learn that participation is compulsory; the
venue used only provides what is customary
but fails in giving custom-tailored services.
When training is wanted because there's
some money left at the end of the year: "It
doesn't matter what it is..., just do something!",
goes the task description. Now, it is up to the
trainer to decide if he will take on an
assignment like that in exchange for pocket
money or the survival of his enterprise, or - on
the grounds of protecting his own or the
client's business interests - tactfully refuses
suggesting that they should be reconsidering
21
the proposal at the beginning of next year in
view of the long-term objectives.
When there is not enough money, but the
client is seeking to get a bit of a facelift
treatment instead of real improvement:
although people ought to be paid higher or
more staff is needed because of increased
workload, the company is unable or unwilling
to spend more. Well, why don't we just give
them a slap on the shoulder? Instead of
sending them off for two days to a wellness
hotel, the management gets them two trainers
to do something with the overworked and
underpaid staff.
When the client has some hidden
objective or expectation of the training:
there was one school principal who wanted
training from me because he feared that the
mayor would not make him school principal
when his mandate was over unless he had his
teachers' support. He thought training would be
a form of reward to his staff.
When the to-be participants do not have
the faintest clue of what their boss has got
in store for them: I have been witness to a
22
development programme - which, by the way,
required many days of preparation - in which
participants begged the trainer like school
children not to make them do anything.
What it all boils down to is that the decisionmaker
(leader number one or the HR manager)
decides that the organisation needs developing
or, alternatively, staff members or teams need
skills development or improvement in specific
special areas of expertise. Or that
development is needed across the entire
organisation as they want to introduce an
entirely new organisational culture. Of course,
culture will not change overnight during
training; the most a trainer can do is make
people aware of the realisations that are
already there lurking inside people's heads.
23
Most of the time, this is not recognised by
the participants. Only felt or sensed.
humanrobot: "Hi there, we've got a little money
left over in our budget, which we must either pay the
government in taxes or alternatively, we can buy a
research project. Could you not do some management
programme on the pretext of research for us? You
know, the bosses go down to the country each year.
Now, this we could link this to a management training
programme, a little bit of wine tasting and mini golf
at the end", goes the typical rhetoric of the company
HR.
24
What is training definitely not about?
Training - and I must stress this again - is a
means of organisation development. If it is
wanted by a small market enterprise, the final
and sole objective might just be to improve
profitability. Nothing else. After all, the
company was originally set up to make profit.
What else? Of course, the other question is the
price the company is paying to achieve the
expected return.
Training is not a form of reward. Going
sailing or spending one week in Barcelona
(often coined incentive training) by the top
management is more like a company holiday
rather than organisation development. It may
well be that the participants will have a good
time and can unwind, they may also inevitable
get to know each other better; even more so,
loyalty to the generous boss will increase, after
all, this great guy/girl is paying for the bill. Yet
I insist that this has nothing to contribute to
company development.
Training is not a form of punishment. "I am
here because they put my name on the list,
25
just now when I have a deadline to meet
tomorrow." Too many of my training sessions
start out like this. In a better scenario,
participants and I reward the sincerity of the
comment with roaring laughter. Things are not
going right? Well, just enrol them in some
effectiveness-booster training. That'll make a
difference. Is the staff overconfident? We'll
send them off to an overnight survival course.
But why?
Training is not the place for the trainer to
hold theatrical shows. The trainer is a
facilitator who is tasked with eliciting the
thoughts and feelings that are already there
inside the participants. The trainer is there to
encourage people to say certain things, look at
various life situations from different angles,
express different problems and find the
solutions if solutions can in fact be identified.
During all this, it is not the task of nor the time
for the trainer to make himself popular or
likeable. Of course, there are times during
training when the trainer is acting, as may be
the case with short theoretical type
presentations. There are moments when
theatrical skills are called for, when the trainer
26
is driven by empathy. Nonetheless, all these
moments must be used to serve the purpose of
development and not the acceptance of the
trainer, or the satisfaction of the trainer's
personal desire to be in the centre of attention.
Training is not designed to pave the way for
an unpleasant discussion. "People will feel
better and it will be easier for them to take the
pill", said one potential client; eventually, I
declined the offer. The act of announcing any
unpleasant news is an organisation
development tool itself: having an open and
clear approach, the honest exploration of the
troubles and their causes, the ability to identify
with the people concerned by the management
is the best possible developmental tool that
cannot be matched by even the best of
trainers.
27
humanrobot: "Unfortunately, as it turned out, I
could not attend the event; I had a foreign
delegation to meet", says one director as he invites
me for coffee behind the imitation leather padded
door of his office. "Nevertheless, I would love you
to tell me a few words about the people, who was the
best of them all, perhaps the most cooperative and
who impeded progress most. You know, I need this info
to deal with these people in my everyday work." You
would have to be a real tacky diplomat to get out of
a tight situation like this one. After all, the
client is your client even if he had failed to turn
up at the training. He will issue you with your
performance certificate, he will pay you, and it is
up to him whether you will use this as a reference
work, or quietly conceal that you have ever been near
the place.
28
The selling phase
It is always difficult to sell. Especially if you
are selling a service, which most people
believe they have some understanding of. Now
organisation development is just such a
service. I tend to feel I am really screwed when
I find that my client has some vague knowledge
of the subject and they keep wanting to convert
the little they know into loose change. (This
kind of work presents a real challenge because
on the one hand I can utilise the eagerness of
my partner but at the same time use a bit of
tactfulness and diplomacy to keep my fingers
on the steering wheel.
Let's call this group of people sciolists. They
will show off their patchwork knowledge
already during initial consultation. A typical
example for this when they want to show off
before their superiors or employees. Or they
may want to get a training product from you
that they may have heard of before and have
grown to like it for some reason, and are most
certainly not willing to hear the sad news from
29
you that this is exactly what they do not
actually need.
There is, however, a group of clients that
are either highly educated or totally ignorant
on the subject. This latter group, recognising
their ignorance, are excellent partners hence I
put them in the same category with the
educated ones. These clients
1. do not see their roles in a relationship of
subordination / domination, but focus on
identifying shared goals,
2. are ready and willing to learn and
understand the entire training process, and
3. are happy to share information - which
we, service providers, can also learn a lot from
and can offer them custom-tailored
programmes,
4. do not disguise problematic organisational
components or shun their own responsibility.
Many service providers are irritated if the
client wants to be part of the process in a
creative way. However this is normally for the
better since the client
30
1. will identify with the project if personally
involved,
2. will find participation rewarding and
realise their own responsibilities,
3. will be of assistance to you since they will
most certainly know more about their
organisation than you.
All you have to realise and consequently
indicate to them is the border line between
their and your responsibility.
humanrobot: We were holding a training session for
the teaching staff of a vocational school in a small
town. The programme was a great success mostly
because the weaving and wood-carving teachers were
open to the development methodologies we applied,
which - by the way - were very detached from their
everyday reality. They were able to laugh at
themselves and could even tell us what they believed
in, and the things they would not like to make
changes to because they were convinced they had been
doing well. When we finished, there was an Angel of
Silence. Then suddenly, appearing seemingly from
nowehere, the school principal asked a young lady
teacher to hand out photocopies of a story and asked
the teachers to read it and "nod one by one if you
think you have understood it".
31
Boxing and whitewater rafting
An organisation developer company was
launching a new business branch and ran
boxing training for the managers. According to
the concept underlying the programme, world
one has to learn to give and take punches in
the business. Does it not occur to you that
such a programme might , in fact, be organised
for the sole reason to make the organisation
developer stand out from the rest. At all costs?
The question is: why is any knowledge of
boxing required to sell an IT system, build a
residential estate, or introduce a new brand of
swimming suits? Many think that the business
world is like a boxing ring into which one only
steps if armed from head to toe.
Whitewater rafting Some like it. And some
loathe it. Our likes and dislikes and the way we
relate to extreme sports vary, and rightly so.
What may seem extreme sport to one person
may be daily routine for he other.
Some of the feelings experienced in training
courses, the thoughts and arguments of others,
32
and the mutually worked out solutions may be
carried over into the realm of everyday reality.
This is the real meaning and purpose of
training. There is, however, a limit beyond
which scaring or frightening people is
expressly hazardous. And also unethical. Just
because someone, having a helmet on his
head, detests getting into an incessantly
swaying rubber dinghy with three other people
from the controlling department, it does not
mean that they cannot be excellent payroll
accountants who never make a mistake in
thirty years, especially not at the cost of the
company. It is not freezing to death in the icy
waters and rolling over rocks that grinds you
into a team - this is so even if the water, the
boat and progress are fantastic metaphors in
the various areas of business.
33
humanrobot: I've often had participants shyly
eyeing the noses of their shoes and coming up to me
directly before the training was about to begin to
ask me about the type of activities they will be
expected to perform. After a significant number of
similar cases that showed the same pattern, I came to
the realisation that people were worried that they
would be subjected to humiliating exercises. In these
cases it transpired that the manager responsible for
organising the training failed to inform the
participants on what they were to expect. In one
development programme, an excessively obese lady came
up to me, her neck badly covered with moles, and she
asked me on a soft tone full of concern what type of
activities we would be playing during the day. She
told me how much she feared to make any physical
contact with anyone because she had the belief that
no-one would feel comfortable touching her under any
circumstance. She also shared with me some of her
former bad experiences. It transpired that a few
years before the lady had looked perfectly average;
she was a mother and a wife, but recently she had
been diagnosed with a tumour, which produced the
above symptoms. There were no activities on the cards
that involved the touching of each other on this
training session.
5 Tackling Prejudice and De-radicalization
Bibliography
Ondrušek, Dušan and Vladimír Labáth. 1997. “Conflicts in transforming society
and the non-governmental sector.” The Annals of the American Academy of
Political and Social Science 552: 40–51.
Sunstein, Cass R. 1999. “The Law of Group Polarization.” John M. Olin Program
in Law and Economics Working Paper (91).
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5.2 Law of Group Polarization
314
University of Chicago Law School
Chicago Unbound
Coase-Sandor Working Paper Series in Law and
Economics
Coase-Sandor Institute for Law and Economics
1999
The Law of Group Polarization
Cass R. Sunstein
Follow this and additional works at: http://chicagounbound.uchicago.edu/law_and_economics
Part of the Law Commons
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information, please contact unbound@law.uchicago.edu.
Recommended Citation
Cass R. Sunstein, "The Law of Group Polarization" (John M. Olin Program in Law and Economics Working Paper No. 91, 1999).
This paper can be downloaded without charge at:
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http://papers.ssrn.com/paper.taf?abstract_id=199668
CHICAGO
JOHN M. OLIN LAW & ECONOMICS WORKING PAPER NO. 91
(2D SERIES)
The Law of Group Polarization
Cass R. Sunstein
THE LAW SCHOOL
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO
Preliminary draft 12/7/99
All rights reserved
The Law of Group Polarization
Cass R. Sunstein*
Abstract
In a striking empirical regularity, deliberation tends to move groups, and the individuals who
compose them, toward a more extreme point in the direction indicated by their own
predeliberation judgments. For example, people who are opposed to the minimum wage are
likely, after talking to each other, to be still more opposed; people who tend to support gun
control are likely, after discussion, to support gun control with considerable enthusiasm; people
who believe that global warming is a serious problem are likely, after discussion, to insist on
severe measures to prevent global warming. This general phenomenon -- group polarization --
has many implications for economic, political, and legal institutions. It helps to explain
extremism, “radicalization,” cultural shifts, and the behavior of political parties and religious
organizations; it is closely connected to current concerns about the consequences of the Internet;
it also helps account for feuds, ethnic antagonism, and tribalism. Group polarization bears on the
conduct of government institutions, including juries, legislatures, courts, and regulatory
commissions. There are interesting relationships between group polarization and social cascades,
both informational and reputational. Normative implications are discussed, with special attention
to political and legal institutions.
“The differences of opinion, and the jarrings of parties in [the legislative] department of
the government . . . often promote deliberation and circumspection; and serve to check the
excesses of the majority.”
Alexander Hamilton1
“In everyday life the exchange of opinion with others checks our partiality and widens
our perspective; we are made to see things form the standpoint of others and the limits of our
vision are brought home to us. . . . The benefits from discussion lie in the fact that even
representative legislators are limited in knowledge and the ability to reason. No one of them
knows everything the others know, or can make all the same inferences that they can draw in
concert. Discussion is a way of combining information and enlarging the range of arguments.”
John Rawls2
*
Karl N. Llewellyn Distinguished Service Professor of Jurisprudence, University of Chicago, Law School and
Department of Political Science. The author is grateful to Timur Kuran, Andrei Marmor, Eric Posner, and Richard
Posner for valuable comments, and to David Schkade and Daniel Kahneman for many helpful discussions.
Participants in a work-in-progress lunch at the University of Chicago also provided a great deal of help.
1
The Federalist No. 70, at 426-37 (Alexander Hamilton) (Clnton Rossiter ed. 1961).
2
John Rawls, A Theory of Justice 358-59 (1971).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 2
“Each person can share what he or she knows with the others, making the whole at least
equal to the sum of the parts. Unfortunately, this is often not what happens . . . . As polarization
gets underway, the group members become more reluctant to bring up items of information they
have about the subject that might contradict the emerging group consensus. The result is a biased
discussion in which the group has no opportunity to consider all the facts, because the members
are not bringing them up. . . . Each item they contributed would thus reinforce the march toward
group consensus rather than add complications and fuel debate.“
Patricia Wallace3
Consider the following events:
• Affirmative action is under attack in the state of Texas. A number of
professors at a particular branch of the University of Texas, inclined to be
supportive of affirmative action, meet to exchange views and to plan further
action, if necessary. What are these professors likely to think, and to do, after
they talk?
• After a nationally publicized shooting at a high school, a group of people in
the community, most of them tentatively in favor of greater gun control, come
together to discuss the possibility of imposing new gun control measures.
What, if anything, will happen to individual views as a result of this
discussion?
• A local group of citizens, all of them Republicans, meet in 1998 to discuss
whether President Clinton should be impeached. Before discussion begins, a
strong majority is leaning in favor of impeachment, but they are not firmly
committed to this view. A minority is entirely undecided. If a group resolution
is required, what is it likely to look like?
• A jury is deciding on an appropriate punitive damage award in a case of
recklessly negligent behavior by a large company; the behavior resulted in a
serious injury to a small child. Before deliberating as a group, the jurors have
chosen appropriate awards, leading to an average of $1.5 million and a median
of $1 million. As a statistical generalization, how will the jury’s ultimate
award tend to compare to these figures?
• A group of women are concerned about what they consider to be a mounting
“tyranny of feminism.” They believe that women should be able to make their
own choices, but they also think that men and women are fundamentally
different, and that their differences legitimately lead to different social roles.
The group decides to meet every two weeks to focus on common concerns.
After a year, is it possible to say what its members are likely to think?
• There is an Internet discussion group, consisting of people concerned about
the behavior of certain activities by Americans apparently associated with
3
Patricia Wallace, The Psychology of the Internet 81-82 (1999).
3 The Law of Group Polarization
China. Over half of the participants are fearful that China might be engaged in
spying and that under President Clinton, the Department of Justice has turned
a blind eye, in part because of campaign contributions from Americans whose
loyalties are suspect. In what directions are these Internet discussions likely to
lead?
Every society contains innumerable deliberating groups. Faculties, juries, legislative
bodies, political organizations, regulatory commissions, multimember courts, faculties, student
organizations, religious sects, Internet discussion groups, and others engage in deliberation. A
pervasive question has to do with the likely consequences of the deliberative process. It is a
simple social fact that sometimes people enter discussions with one view and leave with another,
even on political and moral questions.4
Emphasizing this fact, many recent observers have
embraced the traditional American aspiration to “deliberative democracy,” an ideal that is
designed to combine popular responsiveness with a high degree of reflection and exchange
among people with competing views.5
But for the most part, the resulting literature has not been
empirically informed.6
It has not much dealt with the real-world consequences of deliberation,
and with whether any generalizations hold in actual deliberative settings.
The standard view of deliberation is that of Hamilton and Rawls, as stated above. Group
discussion is likely to lead to better outcomes, if only because competing views are stated and
exchanged. Aristotle spoke in similar terms, suggesting that when diverse groups “all come
together . . . they may surpass – collectively and as a body, although not individually – the
quality of the few best. . . . When there are many who contribute to the process of deliberation,
each can bring his share of goodness and moral prudence; . . . some appreciate one part, some
another, and all together appreciate all.”7
An important question is whether this view is naïve or
excessively optimistic. Perhaps economic, psychological, and social mechanisms lead
deliberating groups in unexpected and undesirable directions. If so, it would be necessary to
rethink current enthusiasm for deliberation as a social phenomenon, and also to reassess and
perhaps to restructure institutions that are designed as deliberating bodies.
My principal purpose in this Article is to investigate a striking but thus far almost entirely
neglected8
empirical regularity – that of group polarization -- and to relate this phenomenon to
a number of issues in law and political theory. In brief, group polarization arises when members
of a deliberating group move toward a more extreme point in whatever direction is
4
Sometimes it may seem that moral and political arguments are unlikely to have an effect; the evidence discussed
here shows that on this proposition is quite wrong as an empirical matter.
5
See Amy Gutmann and Dennis Thompson, Democracy and Disagreement (1997); Deliberative Democracy (Jon
Elster ed. 1998); Jurgen Habermas, Between Law and Norms (1997).
6
Exceptions include James Fearon, Deliberation As Discussion, in Deliberative Democracy, supra, at 44; Susan
Stokes, Pathologies of Deliberation, in id. at 123; Lynn Sanders, Against Deliberation, Political Theory. Of special
interest is James Fishkin’s continuing experiments with the “deliberative opinion poll,” in which groups of diverse
people are asked to deliberate on public issues. See James Fishkin, The Voice of the People (1998); The Poll With
A Human Face (Maxwell McCombs and Amy Reynolds eds. 1999). Fishkin’s groups do not polarize, at least not
systematically; this result is undoubtedly a product of the distinctive setting, in which materials are presented on
each issue, with corresponding claims of fact and value. In the experiments discussed here, the relevant arguments
are introduced by the participants, not by any third party. See below for discussion of Fishkin.
7
Aristotle, Politics 123 (E. Barker trans. 1972).
8
I have been unable to find any sustained discussions in the relevant literature in law or political theory.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 4
indicated by the members’ predeliberation tendency. “[L]ike polarized molecules, group
members become even more aligned in the direction they were already tending.”9
Group
polarization is the conventional consequence of group deliberation. Thus, for example, the first
deliberating group is likely to become more firmly committed to affirmative action; the second
group will probably end up favoring gun control quite enthusiastically; any group resolution
from the third group will tend to favor impeachment; the punitive damages jury will likely come
up with an award higher than the median and perhaps higher than the mean as well; the group of
women concerned about feminism is likely to become very conservative indeed on gender
issues; the Internet group is likely to fear something like a conspiracy to cover up the relevant
activities.10
Two principal mechanisms underlie group polarization. The first points to social
influences on behavior; the second emphasizes limited “argument pools,” and the directions in
which those limited pools lead group members. An understanding of these mechanisms provides
many insights into legal and political issues; it illuminates a great deal, for example, about likely
processes within multimember courts, juries, political parties, and legislatures – not to mention
insulated ethnic groups, extremist organizations, student associations, faculties, workplaces, and
families. At the same time, these mechanisms give little reason for confidence that deliberation is
making things better than worse; in fact they raise some serious questions about deliberation
from the normative point of view.11
If deliberation simply pushes a group toward a more extreme
point in the direction of its original tendency, do we have any systematic reason to think that
discussion is producing improvements?
As we will see, one of the principal lessons of the group polarization phenomenon is to
cast new light on an old point, to the effect that social homogeneity can be quite damaging to
good deliberation.12
When people are hearing echoes of their own voices, the consequence may
be far more than support and reinforcement. Another lesson is that particular forms of
homogeneity can be breeding grounds for unjustified extremism, even fanaticism. To work well,
deliberating groups should be appropriately heterogeneous and should contain a plurality of
articulate people with reasonable views – an observation with implications for the design of
regulatory commissions, legislative committees, White House working groups, and even
multimember courts.13
But there is a conceptual problem here: It is difficult to specify
appropriate heterogeneity, and the appropriate plurality of views, without making some
antecedent judgments about the substantive question at issue. I offer some comments about how
to resolve that problem.
This Article is organized as follows. Part II offers some brief notations on the general
question of social influences on individual judgments, with particular reference to the
9
See John Turner et al., Rediscovering the Social Group 142 (1987).
10
Compare R. Hightower and L. Sayeed, The Impact of Computer-Mediated Communication Systems on Biased
Group Discussion, 11 Computers in Human Behavior 33 (1995).
11
I am speaking here of real-world deliberation, not of deliberation accompanied by preconditions of the sort that
have been influenced by those thinking of it in ideal terms. See Jurgen Habermas, supra. A particular point to
emphasize here is the need for full information. See id.
12
A classic discussion is John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (1859).
13
Compare Irving Janis, Groupthink (1972) (coming to the same general conclusion, but without discussing
polarization).
5 The Law of Group Polarization
phenomenon of social cascades. A central point here is that any particular’s persons deeds and
statements create an informational externality.14
When a number of people have acted or spoken,
observers who lack much private information are highly likely to follow their lead. Part III offers
a basic account of group polarization, with particular reference to some new data in the legal
context. Part IV discusses the mechanisms that account for group polarization. Part V traces the
implications for a number of issues, involving feuds, ethnic strife, juries, commissions,
multimember courts, legislatures, and deliberation via the Internet. Part VI shows in what sense
group polarization raises doubts about the idea that deliberation is a social good; it traces the
implications of the phenomenon for proper structuring of deliberative institutions. Part VII is a
brief conclusion.
II. Social Influences and Cascades
A. In General
A great deal of attention has recently been devoted to the topic of social influences on
individual behavior.15
Because many of these influences are at least roughly analogous to what
happens in group polarization, and because they have some bearing on deliberation as well, it
will be worthwhile to offer some brief notations here.
The simplest point is that people frequently do what they do because of what they think
(relevant) others do. Thus, for example, teenage girls who see that other teenagers are having
babies are more likely to become pregnant themselves16
; littering and nonlittering behavior
appears to be contagious17
; the same is true of violent crime18
; those who know other people who
are on welfare are more likely to go on welfare themselves19
; the behavior of proximate others
affects the decision whether to recycle20
; a good way to increase the incidence of tax compliance
is to inform people of high levels of voluntary tax compliance21
; and students are less likely to
engage in binge drinking if they think that most of their fellow students do not engage in binge
drinking, so much so that disclosure of this fact is one of the few successful methods of reducing
binge drinking on college campuses.22
14
See Andrew Caplin & John Leahy, Miracle on Sixth Avenue: Information Externalities and Search, 108 Econ. J.
60 (1998).
15
See, e.g., Dan Kahan, Social Influence, Social Meaning, and Deterrence, Va L Rev. (1998). For extended
overviews., see Eliott Aronson, The Social Animal (7th
ed. 1995); Lee Ross and Richard Nisbett, The Person and the
Situation (1991); group polarization is a surprising omission from both of these lengthy and highly illuminating
treatments.
16
See, e.g., George A. Akerlof, Janet L. Yellen & Michael L. Katz, An Analysis of Out-of-Wedlock Childbearing in
the United States, 111 Q.J. Econ. 277 (1996).
17
See Robert Cialdini et al., A Focus Theory of Normative Conduct: Recycling the Concept of Norms to Reduce
Littering in Public Places, 58 J Pers. And Soc. Psych 1015 (1990).
18
See Washington Post (December 1999).
19
See Marianne Bertrand, Erzo F.P. Luttmer & Sendhil Millainathan, Network Effects and Welfare Cultures
(unpublished manuscript, Apr. 9, 1998).
20
See Ardith Spence, Wants for Waste (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 1999).
21
See Stephen Coleman, The Minnesota Income Tax Compliance Experiment State Tax Results (Minnesota
Department of Revenue, April 1996).
22
See H. Wesley Perkins, College Student Misperceptions of Alcohol and Other Drug Norms Among Peers, in
Designing Alcohol and Other Drug Prevention Programs in Higher Education 177-206 (US Dept.of Educ. ed. 1997);
Timur Kuran and Cass R. Sunstein, Availability Cascades and Risk Regulation, 51 Stan L Rev 683, 767 (1999).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 6
Social influences affect behavior via two different mechanisms.23
The first is
informational. As noted, what other people do, or say, carries an informational externality; if
many other people go to a certain movie, or refuse to use drugs, or carry guns, observers are
given a signal about what it makes sense to do. The second mechanism is reputational. Even if
people do not believe that what other people do provides information about what should be done,
they may think that the actions of others provide information about what other people think
should be done. Thus each person’s expressive actions come with a reputational externality.
People care about their reputations, and hence they may do what they think other people think
they should do, whether or not they believe that they should do it. Reputational considerations
may, for example, lead people to obey or not to obey the law, smoke cigarettes, buy certain
cars,24
drive while drunk, help others, or talk about political issues in a certain way. They exert a
ubiquitous influence on behavior.25
B. Some Classic Experiments
In the most vivid experiments involving group influences, conducted by Solomon Asch,
individuals were willing to abandon the direct evidence of their own senses.26
In the relevant
experiments, a certain line was placed on a large white card. The task of the subjects was to
“match” that line by choosing, as identical to it in length, one of three other lines, placed on a
separate large white card. One of the lines on the second white card was in fact identical in
length to the line to be matched to it; the other two were substantially different, with the
differential varying from an inch and three quarters to three quarters of an inch. The subject in
the experiments was one of eight people asked to engage in the matching. But unbeknownst to
the subject, the other people apparently being tested were actually there as part of the
experiments.
Asch’s experiments unfolded in the following way. In the first two rounds, everyone
agreed about the right answer; this seemed to be an extremely dull experiment. But the third
round introduced “an unexpected disturbance,”27
Other group members made what was
obviously, to the subject and to any reasonable person, a clear error; they matched the line at
issue to one that was obviously longer or shorter. In these circumstances the subject had the
choice of maintaining his independent judgment or instead yielding to the crowd. A large
number of people ended up yielding. In ordinary circumstances subjects erred less than 1 percent
of the time; but in rounds in which group pressure supported the incorrect answer, subjects erred
36.8% of the time.28
Indeed, in a series of twelve questions, no less than 70% of subjects went
along with the group, and defied the evidence of their own senses, at least once.
23
See, e.g., Elliott Aronson, supra note, at 22; Lee and Ross, supra note, at 44-45.
24
See Robert Frank, Luxury Fever (1999).
25
Timur Kuran, Public Truth, Private Lies (1998), emphasizes this point.
26
See the overview in Solomon Asch, Opinions and Social Pressure, in Readings About the Social Animal 13
(Elliott Aronson ed. 1995).
27
Id. at 15.
28
Id. at 16.
7 The Law of Group Polarization
Several refinements are important here. Susceptibility to group influence was hardly
uniform; some people agreed with the group almost all of the time, whereas others were entirely
independent in their judgments. Significantly, the existence of at least one compatriot, or voice
of sanity, mattered a great deal. When just one other person made an accurate match, errors were
reduced by three-quarters, even if there was a strong majority the other way.29
By contrast,
varying the size of the majority mattered only up to a number of three, and increases from that
point had little effect. Thus opposition from one person did not increase subjects’ errors at all;
opposition from two people increased error to 13.6%; and opposition from three people increased
error to 31.8%, not substantially different from the level that emerged from further increases in
group size.
Both informational and reputational considerations appear to have led people toward
these errors. Several people said, in private interviews, that their own opinions must have been
wrong. On the other hand, experimenters find greatly reduced error, in the same basic
circumstances as Asch’s experiments, when the subject is asked to give a purely private
answer.30
Asch concluded that his results raised serious questions about the possibility that “the
social process is polluted” by the “dominance of conformity.”31
He added, “That we have found
the tendency to conformity in our society so strong that reasonably intelligent and well-meaning
young people are willing to call white black is a matter of concern.”32
Notably, however, Asch’s
experiments did not involve deliberation, for people were not exchanging reasons; indeed, we
might expect that reason-giving would have severely weakened his results. What reasons could
have been given for incorrect matches? But the existence of substantial numbers of mistakes, as a
result of mere exposure to the incorrect conclusions of others, raises questions about whether and
when deliberation will lead people in the right directions.
C. Cascades
Some of the most interesting recent work on social influence involves the possibility of
informational and reputational “cascades”33
; this work has obvious relevance to law and
politics.34
Indeed, it is possible to interpret Asch’s work as having demonstrated considerable
individual susceptibility to cascade effects. What is striking about such effects is that their ripplelike
nature, or the quality of contagion. Group polarization is sometimes, but not always, a
product of cascade effects; it will be useful to understand the former against the background of
the latter.
The question explored in the cascades literature is why individuals and
social groups sometimes move quite rapidly in some direction or another. A starting point is that
when individuals lack a great deal of private information (and sometimes even when they have
29
Id. at 18.
30
See Aronson, supra note, at 23-24.
31
Id. at 21.
32
Id.
33
See Sushil Biikhchandani et al., Learning from the Behavior of Others, J. Econ. Persp., Summer 1998, at 151
34
See id.; Timur Kuran and Cass R. Sunstein, Availability Cascades and Risk Regulation, 51 Stan L Rev (1999).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 8
such information), they tend to rely on information provided by the statements or actions of
others. If A is unaware whether abandoned toxic waste dumps are in fact hazardous, he may be
moved in the direction of fear if B seems to think that fear is justified. If A and B believe that
fear is justified, C may end up thinking so too, at least if she lacks independent information to the
contrary. If A, B, and C believe that abandoned hazardous waste dumps are hazardous, D will
have to have a good deal of confidence to reject their shared conclusion. The result of this
process can be to produce cascade effects, as large groups of people end up believing something
– even if that something is false – simply because other people seem to believe it too. There is a
great deal of experimental evidence of informational cascades, which are easy to induce in the
laboratory35
; real world phenomena also seem to have a great deal to do with cascade effects.36
Notice here that when a cascade is occurring, large numbers of persons end up with a shared
view, not simply because of social influence, but via a particular process, in which a rivulet ends
up as a flood; this is what makes cascades distinctive.
Though the cascades phenomenon has largely been discussed in connection with factual
judgments, the same processes should be at work for political, legal, and moral questions; we can
easily imagine political, legal, and moral cascades. Suppose, for example, that A believes that
affirmative action is wrong, that B is otherwise in equipoise but shifts upon hearing what A
believes, that C is unwilling to persist in his modest approval of affirmative action when A and B
disagree; it would be a very confident D who would reject the moral judgments of three
(apparently) firmly committed others. Sometimes people are not entirely sure whether capital
punishment should be imposed, whether the Constitution protects the right to have an abortion,
whether it is wrong to litter or to smoke. Many people, lacking firm convictions of their own,
may end up believing what (relevant) others seem to believe. Recent changes in social attitudes
toward smoking, recycling, and sexual harassment have a great to do with these effects.37
The
same process may work for the choice of political candidates, as a fad develops in favor of one
or another – a cascade “up” or “down,” with sensational or ruinous consequences. We can easily
imagine cascade effects in the direction of certain judgments about the appropriate course of
constitutional law; indeed such effects seem to have been at work in the legal culture in the
1960s (with mounting enthusiasm for the Warren Court) and the 1980s (with mounting
skepticism about that Court). It is even possible to imagine cascade effects with respect to
questions of constitutional method (eg, textualism, originalism).
Thus far the discussion has involved purely informational pressures and informational
cascades, where people care about what other people think because they do not know what to
think, and they rely on the opinions of others, to show what it is right to think. But there can be
reputational pressures and reputational cascades as well.38
Here the basic idea is that people care
about their reputations, and they speak out, or remain silent, or even engage in certain expressive
activity, partly in order to preserve those reputations, even at the price of failing to say what they
really think. Suppose, for example, that A believes that hazardous waste dumps pose a serious
35
See Lisa Anderson and Charles Holt, Information Cascades in the Laboratory, 87 Am Econ Rev 847 (1997).
36
See Bikhchandani et al., A Theory of Fads, Fashion, Custom, and Cultural Change as Informational Cascades,
100 J Polit Econ. 992 (1992); Kuran and Sunstein, supra note.
37
See Spence, supra note; Cass R. Sunstein, Social Norms and Social Roles, in Cass R. Sunstein, Free Markets and
Social Justice ch. 2 (1997).
38
See Timur Kuran, Public Lies, Private Truths (1996).
9 The Law of Group Polarization
environmental problem; suppose too that B is skeptical. B may keep quiet, or (like some of
Asch’s subjects) even agree with A, simply in order to preserve A’s good opinion. C may see
that A believes that hazardous waste dumps pose a serious problem, and that B seems to agree
with A; C may therefore voice agreement even though privately she is skeptical or ambivalent.
It is easy to see how this kind of thing might happen with in political life with, for example,
politicians expressing their commitment to capital punishment (even if they are privately
skeptical) or their belief in God (even if they are agnostic on the question). Here too the
consequence can be cascade effects – large social movements in one direction or another -- when
a number of people appear to support a certain course of action simply because others (appear to)
do so. What is true for factual beliefs can be true as well for moral, legal, and political
judgments. People might say, for example, that affirmative action violates the Constitution
simply because of perceived reputational sanctions from saying the opposite; they might support
or oppose the death penalty largely in order to avoid the forms of social opprobrium that might
come, in the relevant community, from taking the opposing view.
Are social cascades good or bad? No general answer would make sense. Sometimes
cascades are quite fragile, precisely because people’s commitments are based on little private
information; sometimes cascades are rooted in (and greatly fuel) blunders. Sometimes cascade
effects will eliminate public torpor, by generating concern about serious problems; but
sometimes cascade effects will make people far more worried than they be, or otherwise produce
large-scale distortions in private judgments, public policy, and law. The antislavery movement
had distinctive cascade-like features, as did the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa; so too
with Mao’s Cultural Revolution and the rise of Nazism in Germany.39
The serious risk with
social cascades, both informational and reputational, is that they can lead to widespead errors,
factual or otherwise. Cascades need not involve deliberation; but related problems infect
processes of group deliberation, as we will now see.
III. How and Why Groups Polarize
A. The Basic Phenomenon
Group polarization is among the most robust patterns found in deliberating bodies, and it
has been found in many diverse tasks. Polarization is said “to occur when an initial tendency of
individual group members toward a given direction is enhanced [by] group discussion.”40
The
result is that groups often make more extreme decisions than would the typical or average
individual in the group (where “extreme” is defined internally, by reference to the group’s initial
dispositions). There is a clear relationship between group polarization and cascade effects; as we
will see, the former, like the latter, seems to have a great deal to do with both informational and
reputational influences. A key difference is that cascade effects lead people to fall in line with an
existing tendency, whereas polarization leads them to a more extreme point in the same
direction.
39
See The Social Life of Nazi Germany (1999).
40
See Isenberg, supra note, at 1141.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 10
Notice that group polarization refers not to variance among groups of any kind, but to
what happens within a group discussing a case or problem.41
Consider some examples of the
basic phenomenon, which has been found in an array of nations.42
(a) A group of moderately
profeminist women will become more strongly profeminist after discussion.43
(b) After
discussion, citizens of France become more critical of the United States and its intentions with
respect to economic aid.44
(c) After discussion, whites predisposed to show racial prejudice offer
more negative responses to the question whether white racism is responsible for conditions faced
by African-Americans in American cities.45
(d) After discussion, whites predisposed not to show
racial prejudice offer more positive responses to the same question.46
As statistical regularities, it
should follow, for example, that that those moderately critical of an ongoing war effort will, after
discussion, sharply oppose the war; that a group moderately predisposed to hire a certain job
candidate will, after discussion, support the application with considerable enthusiasm; that
people tending to believe in the inferiority of a certain racial group will be entrenched in this
belief as a result of discussion.
The phenomenon of group polarization has conspicuous importance to the operation of
deliberating bodies of relevance to law and politics, including legislatures, commissions,
multimember courts, and juries. I will return to this point shortly; for now notice a few obvious
possibilities. Members of a political party, or of the principal political parties, may polarize as a
result of internal discussions; party-line voting is sometimes explicable partly on this ground. A
set of judges with similar predilections on a three-judge panel may well produce a more extreme
ruling than any individual member would write if he were judging on his own. Extremist groups
will often become more extreme; as we will soon see, the largest group polarization typically
occurs with individuals already inclined toward extremes. With respect to deliberating juries, a
recent study47
found significant group polarization with respect to “numerical punishment
ratings” on a bounded numerical scale. For high punishment ratings, groups tended to generate
numbers higher than the median of individual predeliberation judgments; for low punishment
ratings, groups tended to generate numbers lower than the median of individual predeliberation
judgments. This is precisely the pattern that group polarization would predict.
B. Risky Shifts and Cautious Shifts
Group polarization was first found in a series of experiments involving risk-taking
decisions.48
Before 1961, conventional wisdom had been that as compared with the individuals
who compose it, a group of decision-makers – for example a committee or board – would be
41
Of course, when different deliberating groups polarize in different directions, the consequence can be great
among-group variance.
42
These include the United States, Canada, Germany, and France. Of course it is possible that some cultures would
show a greater or lesser tendency toward polarization; this would be an extremely interesting area for empirical
study.
43
See D.G. Myers, Discussion-Induced Attitude Polarization, 28 Human Relations 699 (1975).
44
Brown, Social Psychology 224 (2d ed. 1983).
45
D.G. Myers and G.D. Bishop, The Enhancement of Dominant Attitudes in Group Discuission, 20 J Personality
and Soc. Psych. 286 (1976),
46
See id.
47
See David Schakde et al., Are Juries More Erratic Than Individuals?, Colum L Rev (2000).
48
I draw in this and the following paragraph on Brown, supra note, at 200-206.
11 The Law of Group Polarization
likely to favor a compromise and thus to avoid risks. But the relevant experiments, originally
conducted by Stoner, found otherwise; they identified what has become known as the “risky
shift.”49
Deliberation tended to shift group members in the direction of greater risk-taking; and
deliberating groups, asked to reach a unanimous decision, were generally more risk-inclined –
sometimes far more risk-inclined – than the mean individual member, predeliberation.
In the original experiments, male graduate students of industrial management were asked
a range of questions involving risk: whether someone should choose a safe or risky play in the
last seconds of a football game; whether someone should invest money in a low-return, highsecurity
stock or instead a high-return, lower security stock; whether someone should choose a
high prestige graduate program in which a number of people fail to graduate or a lower prestige
school where everyone graduates. In one problem, for example, people were asked to say
whether a person now having a secure, lifetime job should take a new job, with a new company
with an uncertain future. People were asked about the lowest probability of “financial
soundness” that would justify the person with the secure job from taking the new position. In
Stoner’s studies, people first studied the problems – twelve total – and recorded an initial
judgment; they were then asked to reach a unanimous decision as a group. People were finally
asked to state their private judgments after the group judgment had been made; they were
informed that it was acceptable for the private judgment to differ from the group judgment.
For twelve of the thirteen groups, the group decisions showed a repeated pattern toward
greater risk-taking -- that is, after discussion, the unanimous outcome tended to assess the
necessary likelihood of financial soundness as consistently lower than the median judgment of
the group predeliberation. In addition, there was a clear shift toward greater risk-taking in private
opinions as well. Only 16% were moved toward greater caution; 45% did not change at all; and a
full 39% moved in the direction of greater risk-taking. This shift – the “risky” shift – was
promptly duplicated in a number of diverse studies, some involving all men and some involving
all women.
We should distinguish at this point between two aspects of these findings, not always
separated in the psychological literature and both of relevance to law and policy. The first
involves the movement of deliberating groups, for whom a group decision is necessary, toward
the group’s extreme end; call this (inelegantly) group polarization toward within-group extremes.
This means that if a group decision is required, the group will tend toward an extreme point,
given the original distribution of individual views. Undoubtedly the group’s decision rule will
matter here; a requirement of unanimity may well, for example, produce a shift toward the most
extreme points, at least if those with the most extreme views are least tractable and most
confident. The second involves the movement of (even private) individual judgments as a result
of group influence; call this individual polarization toward within-group extremes. This means
that to the extent that private judgments are moved by discussion, it will be toward a more
extreme point in the direction set by the original distribution of views.
49
See J.A.F. Stoner, A Comparison of Individual and Group Decisions Including Risk, unpublished master’s thesis,
School of Management, Massachusetts Institute of Technology; J.A.F. Stoner, Risky and Cautious Shifts in Group
Decisions, 4 J Experimental Social Psych. 442 (1968).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 12
A possible (and contemporaneous) reading of Stoner’s early studies would be that group
dynamics are such as to move people – both groups and individuals within them -- in the
direction of greater risk-taking. But this conclusion would be much too simple. Later studies
showed that under certain conditions, it was possible, even easy to induce a “cautious shift” as
well. Indeed, certain problems reliably produced cautious shifts. The principal examples
involved the decision whether to marry and the decision whether to board a plane despite severe
abdominal pain possibly requiring medical attention. In these cases, deliberating groups moved
toward caution, as did the members who composed them.
As yet there is no simple account of what kinds of problems will produce what kinds of
shifts; but the identification of risky and cautious shifts has helped produce a general account of
how much, and in what direction, people will tend to move. In Stoner’s original data, subsequent
researchers noticed, the largest risky shifts could be found when group members “had a quite
extreme risky initial position,” in the sense that the predeliberation votes were weighted toward
the risky end, whereas the items “that shifted a little or not at all started out near the middle of
the scale.”50
Thus the direction of the shift seemed to turn on the location of the original
disposition, and the size of the shift depended on the extremeness of that original disposition. A
group of very cautious individuals would produce a significant shift toward greater caution; a
group of individuals inclined toward risk-taking would produce a significant shift toward greater
risk-taking; and groups of individuals in the middle would produce smaller shifts in the direction
indicated by their original disposition. In short, ”group discussion moves decisions to more
extreme points in the direction of the original inclination . . . , which means shift to either risk or
caution in the direction of the original disposition, and the size of the shift increases with the
degree of the initial polarization.”51
Similar results have been found in many contexts, involving,
for example, questions about economic aid, architecture, political leaders, race, feminism, and
judgments of guilt or innocence.52
Polarization has been found for questions of obscure fact (eg,
how far Sodom on the Dead Sea is below sea level) as well as for evaluative questions, including
political and legal issues53
and even the attractiveness of people in slides.54
IV. Mechanisms
A. Two Mechanisms
What explains group polarization? It is tempting to think that conformity plays a large
role, and as the Asch experiments suggest, individual judgments have been found to be greatly
influenced by the desire to conform. Perhaps conformity is sometimes at work, but group
polarization is not a matter of conformity; people do not shift to the mean of initial positions. The
relevant movement goes to one or another side. Indeed, this is what defines, and what is most
interesting about, group polarization.
50
Brown at 211.
51
Brown, supra, at 211.
52
See id.
53
A relatively recent treatment is Russell Spears, Martin Lee, and Stephen Lee, De-Individuation and Group
Polarization in Computer-Mediated Communication, 29 British J Soc Psych 121 (1990
54
Turner et al., supra, at 153.
13 The Law of Group Polarization
There have been two main explanations for group polarization, both of which have been
extensively investigated.55
Massive support has been found on behalf of both explanations.56
1. Social comparison. The first, involving social comparison, begins with the claim that
people want to be perceived favorably by other group members, and also to perceive themselves
favorably. Once they hear what others believe, they adjust their positions in the direction of the
dominant position. They may want to signal, for example, that they are not cowardly or cautious,
and hence they will frame their position so that they do not appear such by comparison to other
group members.57
With respect to risk-taking activity, people want to occupy a certain position in
comparison to others, and before they hear what other people think, they assume that they do in
fact occupy that position. But when they hear what other people think, they find, often, that they
occupy a somewhat different position, and they shift accordingly. The result is to press the
group’s position toward one or another extreme, and also to induce shifts in individual members.
The same appears to happen in other contexts. People may wish, for example, not to seem too
enthusiastic, or too restrained in their enthusiasm for, affirmative action, feminism, or an
increase in national defense; hence their views may shift when they see what other group
members think. The result will be both group and individual polarization toward within-group
extremes.
The dynamic behind the social comparison explanation is that most people may want to
take a position of a certain socially preferred sort – in the case of risk-taking, for example, they
may want to be perceived (and to perceive themselves) as moderate risk-takers, and their choice
of position is partly a product of this desire.58
No one can know what such a position would be
until the positions of others are revealed.59
Thus individuals move their judgments in order to
preserve their image to others and their image to themselves. A key claim here is that
information alone about the actual positions of others – without discussion -- will produce a shift.
Evidence has confirmed this fact; mere exposure induces a substantial risky shift (though it is
less substantial than what is produced by discussion – about half as large).60
This effect helps
explain a shift toward caution (the “cautious shift”) as well.61
While highly suggestive, the “mere
55
Isenberg, supra, and Brown, supra, review this literature; see also Turner et al., supra, at 142-70, for an overview
and an attempt to generate a new synthesis.
56
Note that conformity does not explain group polarization. People are not attempting to conform, even under the
social comparison theory; they are attempting to maintain their relative position, and the revelation of the views of
others shifts people’s conception of what judgment is necessary to maintain that position. See Myers, supra note, at
562, indicating that people “want to perceive themselves as somewhat different from others” and that “people want
to differentiate themselves from others, to a small extent and in the right direction.”
57
On signalling generally, see Eric Posner, Symbols, Signals, and the Law (forthcoming 2000).
58
For a quite vivid demonstration of such a process in the enactment of the Clean Air Act, one that does not,
however, identify the mechanisms, discussed here, see Bruce Ackerman, John Millian, and Donald Elliott, Toward
a Theory of Statutory Evolution: The Federalization of Environmental Law, 1 J. L. Econ. & Organization 313
(1985).
59
“Once the real locations of the mean was known, should it not be the case, granting that everyone wanted to see
himself as reasonably audacious, that those who were really below the mean would be motivated to adopt riskier
positions and so change the mean and produce the risky shift?” Brown, supra, at 214.
60
Teger and Pruitt (1967).
61
Investigations of social influence have emphasized both one-upmanship and the removal of pluralistic ignorance,
that is, ignorance of what other people think (or are willing to say they think). Note that it is implicit in these
findings that people seem to want not to conform, but to be different from others in a desirable way. “To be virtuous
. . . is to be different from the mean – in the right direction and to the right degree.” Brown, supra note, at 469.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 14
exposure” finding does not confirm the social influence account; it is possible that the views of
others simply provide an informational signal, quite apart from arguments, and hence that people
move not in order to maintain reputation, but to do what is right. (Recall the discussion of
informational cascades.)
The social influence explanation invokes factors similar to those that underlie the
reputational cascade. A major difference is that the social influence explanation concerns
presentation to self as well as presentation to others. Note also that group polarization may or
may not be a result of any cascade effect; the question is whether the accumulation of views
from others operates in the form of a cascade. Existing work on group polarization does not
answer this question.
2. Persuasive arguments. The second explanation, emphasizing the role of persuasive
arguments, is based on a common sense intuition: that any individual’s position on an issue is
partly a function of which arguments presented within the group seem convincing. The choice
therefore moves in the direction of the most persuasive position defended by the group, taken as
a collectivity. Because a group whose members are already inclined in a certain direction will
have a disproportionate number of arguments supporting that same direction, the result of
discussion will be to move individuals further in the direction of their initial inclinations. The
key is the existence of a limited argument pool, one that is skewed (speaking purely
descriptively) in a particular direction.
The persuasive arguments theory begins with the suggestion that if a group is deliberating
about some difficult question with a factual answer (how many countries are there in Africa, for
example, or how many people were on the planet in 1900), discussion will typically produce
some movement, not toward the mean, but toward the minority view on which one or a few
members have accurate information. There is, moreover, empirical evidence that with respect to
facts, deliberation produces movements toward accuracy.62
Of course many of the questions
involving group polarization do not have purely factual answers. But a key aspect of those
discussions is that the person with the correct answer is likely to state his view with a high
degree of confidence, and also be able to make some argument in favor of that view. Novel
arguments, bringing up fresh points, are especially likely to be persuasive. In any case members
of a group will have thought of some, but not all, of the arguments that justify their initial
inclination; consider the question whether to take risks or to be cautious. In discussion,
arguments of a large number of individuals are stated and heard, but the total argument pool will
be tilted in one or another direction, depending on the predispositions of the people who
compose the group; hence there will be a shift in the direction of the original tilt.63
When people hear arguments that they perceive as valid, or find to be memorable, vivid,
new, or weighty simply by virtue of emphasis and repetition, they will shift in the direction
suggested by those arguments. If a group of moderately feminist women becomes more feminist,
a group moderately opposed to gun control more extremely so, and so forth, one reason is that
the argument pool of any such group will contain a preponderance of arguments in the direction
62
See James Fishkin and Robert Luskin, Bringing Deliberation to the Democratic Dialogue, in The Poll With A
Human Face 3, 29-31 (Maxwell McCombs and Amy Reynolds eds. 1999).
63
Brown, supra, at 219.
15 The Law of Group Polarization
suggested. The suggestion is that group polarization will occur when convincing arguments
produce a shift in the direction of prediscussion inclinations, revealed in the means of the initial
decisions
There is an obvious analogy here to the informational cascade. In fact we can safely
assume that group polarization sometimes occurs via a kind of informational cascade, as the
statements of particular people begin a cascade process that culminates in extremism. The
difference is that for cascade effects, what is crucial is the very fact of the belief, not its grounds,
whereas for persuasive arguments to work, what is crucial is that arguments be offered and be
found persuasive. It is also unclear whether any particular group polarization involves cascade
effects at all; undoubtedly what sometimes happens is not a cascade effect, in which a large
number of people successively “fall,” but a simple accumulation of arguments, eventually
imposing weight on people whose views are subject to change.
B. Refinements -- and Depolarization
These are statistical regularities, no more. Of course not all groups polarize; some groups
end up in the middle, not toward either extreme. Note that in Stoner’s original experiments, one
of the twelve deliberating groups showed no polarization at all. Nor is it hard to understand why
this might be so. If the people defending the original tendency are particularly unpersuasive,
group polarization is unlikely to occur. If the outliers are especially convincing, groups may even
shift away from their original tendency and in the direction held by few or even one.64
In
addition, affective factors appear to be quite important and complementary to persuasive
arguments. People are less likely to shift if the direction advocated is being pushed by unfriendly
group members; the chance of shift is increased when people perceive fellow members as
friendly, likeable, and similar to them.65
Physical spacing tends to reduce polarization; a sense of
common fate and intragroup similarity tend to increase it, as does the introduction of a rival
“outgroup.”66
Part of the reason for group polarization appears to be that as a class, extreme
positions tend to be less tractable and more confidently held. This point is an important
complement to the persuasive arguments theory67
: The persuasiveness of arguments depends, not
surprisingly, not simply on the grounds given, but also on the confidence with which they are
64
This is of course the theme of the movie Twelve Angry Men, where the single hold-out, played by Henry Fonda,
shifts the judgment of the jury.
65
See Hans Brandstatter,, Social Emotions in Discussion Groups, in Dynamics of Group Decisions (Hans
Brandstatter et al. ed. 1978). Turner et al., supra note, at 154-59, attempt to use this evidence as a basis for a new
synthesis, one that they call “a self-categorization theory of group polarization,” id. at 154. In this account,
“persuasion is dependent upon self-categorizations which create a common identity within a group,” and
polarization occurs “because group members adjust their opinion in line with their image of the group position
(conform) and more extreme, already polarized, prototypical responses determine this image.” Id. at 156. The key
point here is that when a group is tending in a certain direction, the perceived “prototype” is determined by where
the group is leaning, and this is where individuals will shift. Id. at 156. As Turner et al. suggest, their account shows
“overlap with many aspects of social comparison and persuasive arguments models,” and because of the overlap, I
do not discuss it as a separate account here. For possible differences in predictions, and supporting evidence, see id.
at 158-70. An especially interesting implication, perhaps in some tension with the persuasive arguments theory, is
that a group of comparative extremists will show a comparatively greater shift toward extremism. See id. at 158.
66
See Turner et al., supra note, at 153.
67
See Maryla Zaleska, The Stability of Extreme and Moderate Responses in Different Situations, in Group Decision
Making, supra, at 163, 164.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 16
articulated. (Consider here both juries and multimember courts.) Group polarization can also be
fortified through “exit,” as members leave the group because they reject the direction in which
things are heading. If exit is pervasive, the tendency to extremism can be greatly aggravated.
Notably, the persuasive arguments theory implies that there will be “depolarization,” or
convergence toward the middle, if and when new persuasive arguments are offered that are
opposite to the direction initially favored by group members. There is evidence for this
phenomenon as well.68
Depolarization, rather than polarization, will also be found when the
relevant group consists of individuals drawn equally from two extremes (a point to which I will
return).69
Thus if people who initially favor caution are put together with people who initially
favor risk-taking, the group judgment will move toward the middle.
Group members with extreme positions generally change little as a result of discussion or
shift to a more moderate position.70
Consider a study71
consisting of six-member groups
specifically designed to contain two subgroups (of three persons each) initially committed to
opposed extremes; the effect of discussion was to produce movement toward the center. One
reason may be the existence of partially shared persuasive arguments in both directions.72
Interestingly, this study of opposed subgroups found the greatest depolarization with obscure
matters of fact (e.g., the population of the United States in 1900) -- and the least depolarization
with highly visible public questions (e.g., whether capital punishment is justified). Matters of
personal taste depolarized a moderate amount (e.g., preference for basketball or football, or for
colors for painting a room).73
These findings fit well with the persuasive arguments account of polarization. When
people have a fixed view of some highly salient public issue, they are likely to have heard a wide
range of arguments in various directions, producing a full argument pool, and an additional
discussion is not likely to produce movement. Hence “familiar and long-debated issues do not
depolarize easily.”74
With respect to such issues, people are simply less likely to shift at all.
It also matters whether people think of themselves, antecedently or otherwise, as part of a
group, with a degree of solidarity. If they think of themselves in this way, group polarization is
all the more likely, and it is likely too to be more extreme.75
Thus when people are “de-
68
A third possibility is that hearing other similar opinions produces greater confidence in individual positions,
opening members to a more extreme judgment in the same direction. raised recently by Heath and Gonzales . See
Chip Heath and Richard Gonzales, Interaction With Others Increases Decision Confidence But Not Decision
Quality: Evidence Against Information Collection Views Of Interactive Decision Making, 61 Organizational
Behavior and Human Decision Processes 305-326 (1997).
69
See H. Burnstein, Persuasion As Argument Processing, in Group Decision Making (H. Brandstetter, J.H. Davis,
and G. Stocker-Kreichgauer eds., 1982).
70
Ferguson and Vidmar, Effects of Group Discussion on Estimates of Risk Levels, 20 J Pers and Social Psych 436
(1971).
71
Brown, supra, at 225.
72
Amiram Vinokur and Eugene Burnstein, The Effects of Partially Shared Persuasive Arguments on Group-Induced
Shifts, 29 J Personality & Social Psych. 305 (1974).
73
Amiram Vinokur and Eugene Burnstein, supra, at 884.
74
Brown, supra, at 226.
75
See Russell Spears, Martin Lee, and Stephen Lee, De-Individuation and Group Polarization in ComputerMediated
Communication, 29 British J Soc Psych 121 (1990); Patricia Wallace, The Psychology of the Net (1999).
17 The Law of Group Polarization
individualized,” in the sense that the context emphasizes each person’s membership in the social
group engaging in deliberation, polarization increases.76
An especially interesting experiment attempted to investigate this point by manipulating
two variables.77
First, some subjects were “de-individualized” by having to work on computers in
separate rooms, whereas others were asked to work in a single office with desks facing each
others (the “individualized” condition), In the de-individualized condition, visual anonymity was
increased. Second, some subjects were given instructions in which group membership was made
salient (the “group immersion” condition), whereas others were not (the “individual” condition).
For example, subjects in the group immersion conditions were told that their group consisted
solely of first-year psychology students, and that they were being tested as group members rather
than as individuals. All conditions were held constant in one respect: Every subject was told that
people like them tended to support one or another view. The relevant issues involved affirmative
action, government subsidies for the theatre, privatization of nationalized industries, and phasing
out nuclear power plans.
The results were quite striking. There was the least group polarization in the deindividuated-individual
condition; group polarization was greatest in the de-individuated/group
immersion condition, when group members met relatively anonymously and when group identity
was emphasized. Interestingly, there was no significant difference in polarization between the
two individuated conditions (with and without emphasis on group immersion). From this
experiment, it is reasonable to speculate that polarization is most likely to occur, and to be most
extreme, under circumstances in which group membership is made salient and people have a
high degree of anonymity. There is obviously a potential lesson here about the effects of group
deliberation on the Internet,78
a point to which I will return.
These remarks suggest some general, common-sensical conclusions about how and when
group discussion will move predeliberation opinions. Views based on a great deal of thought are
least likely to shift; depolarization can occur with equal subgroups tending in opposite directions;
groups will usually shift in the direction of an accurate factual judgment where one or more
members knows the truth; where views are not firmly held, but where there is an initial
predisposition, group polarization is the general rule. Undoubtedly generalizations of this sort
bear on shifts in individual views among many deliberating bodies.
B. Iterated “Polarization Games”?
The logic of group polarization suggests that if participants engage in repeated
discussions – if, for example, they meet each month, express views, and take votes – there should
be repeated shifts toward, and past, the defined pole. Thus, for example, if a group of people is
thinking about genetic engineering of food, or the minimum wage, or the World Trade
Organization the consequence of their discussions, over time, should be to lead in quite extreme
directions. In these iterated “polarization games,” deliberation over time should produce a
76
Spears et al., supra, at 122-124.
77
Id.
78
See Patricia Wallace, The Psychology of the Internet 73-79 (1999).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 18
situation in which individuals hold positions more extreme than those of any individual member
before the series of deliberations began.
This is only a thought experiment; there appears to be no study of such iterated
polarization games. But the hypothesized outcome is less fanciful than it might seem. In the jury
study referred to above, deliberating groups frequently came up with punishment ratings, and
with dollar awards, as high as or even higher than that of any individual, pre-deliberation.79
And
it is not difficult to think of real-world groups in which the consequence of deliberation, over
time, appears to be to shift both groups and individuals to positions that early on, they could not
possibly have accepted.80
Iterated polarization games seem to be an important real-world
phenomenon. But this raises two questions: Why and when do groups stop polarizing? Why and
when do they end up at a certain point, or even shift in the opposite direction? Nothing in the
literature on group polarization adequately answers these questions.81
But it is possible to
speculate that polarization often ends or reverses as a result of some external shock – as, for
example, when new members add new arguments, or when the simple self-interest of political
leaders produces a shift in direction,82
or when new circumstances, of fact or value, alter the
perspectives and incentives of group members. Social cascades often change direction as a result
of such external shocks, as through the release of new information83
; the same processes seem to
terminate or to reverse group polarization.
C. A Wrinkle: “Rhetorical Asymmetry”
Interestingly – and in a noteworthy qualification of the general literature on group
polarization – the previously discussed study of punitive damage awards by juries found a
striking pattern for dollar awards.84
For any dollar award above zero, the general effect of
deliberation was to increase awards above those of the median voter. Dollar awards did not
simply polarize; while higher awards increased dramatically, as compared to the median of
predeliberation votes, low awards increased as well. Why is this?
Both the original experiment and a follow-up experiment suggest that this result is a
product of a “rhetorical asymmetry” that favors, other things being equal and in any contest, the
person or persons urging higher awards. Thus the fact of systematic increases in dollar awards in
strongly suggested of a general tendency toward upward movement; a subsequent experiment,
limited to University of Chicago law students, confirmed this effect, with a substantial majority
of subjects agreeing that it was easier, other things being equal, to argue for higher awards than
79
David Schkade, Cass R. Sunstein, and Daniel Kahneman, Are Juries More Erratic Than Individuals?, 100 Colum
L Rev (forthcoming 2000).
80
For a relevant discussion of deliberating groups in the 1960s, see James Miller, Democracy Is In The Streets
(1993); see also Timur Kuran, Ethnic Norms and Their Transformation Through Reputational Cascades, 27 J Legal
Stud 623, 648 (1998).
81
See Turner et al., supra, at 152, suggesting that there is no clear answer to the question for “what range of
situations” polarization is predicted.
82
See the discussion of legislators below; and note, as inevitably noisy real-world examples, the centrist shift of the
Democratic Party in 199101992, and the apparent centrist shift of the Republican Party in 1999-2000.
83
See David Hirschleifer, The Blind Leading The Blind, in The New Economics Of Human Behavior (1997).
84
See David Schkade, Cass R. Sunstein, and Daniel Kahneman, Are Juries More Erratic Than Individuals?, 100
Colum L Rev (forthcoming 2000).
19 The Law of Group Polarization
for lower ones.85
In our culture, and in light of existing norms, the person favoring the higher
amount for punitive damages appears likely to be more convincing than the person favoring the
lower amount. It is important to emphasize that this asymmetry operates independently of any
facts about the individual case. The reason appears to be that with respect to dollar awards
involving a corporate defendant, stronger arguments – “we need to deter this kind of conduct,”
“we need to send a powerful signal,” “we need to attract their attention” – tend to have
comparatively greater weight.
Undoubtedly there are many other contexts containing rhetorical asymmetry, and
undoubtedly the asymmetry can affect outcomes, as it did in the jury study. A great deal of
empirical work remains to be done on this question; too little is known to say why and when
such an asymmetry is at work. Existing cultural norms are the underlying source of any
rhetorical asymmetry, and such norms vary over space and time, producing shifts in rhetorical
asymmetry. In any case it is not difficult to generate possible examples. Legislative judgments
about criminal punishment may, for example, involve an asymmetry of exactly this kind. In
certain settings, those favoring lower taxes, or more aid for scholarship students, or greater
funding for environmental protection may have a similar rhetorical advantage. Much remains to
be explored. For present purposes the point is that group polarization may be aggravated or
attenuated if one or another side has a systematic advantage in rhetoric. Perhaps the most striking
implication is that when there is an initial distribution of views in a certain direction, and when a
more extreme movement in that direction has a rhetorical advantage, quite extreme shifts can be
expected.86
D. Is Group Polarization Rational?
In both economics and law, a great deal of attention has recently been paid to the
question whether human beings are “rational,” or “quasi-rational,” or subject to irrationality.87
There is an obvious question whether the phenomenon of group polarization raises doubts about
rational actor models in economics or law. The answer is that for the most part, individual
behavior within groups, as described thus far, creates no such doubts. It is certainly rational to
make assessments on the basis of arguments offered; if the most numerous and convincing
arguments seem to justify a shift, individual shifts are entirely rational.88
More difficult questions
might seem to be raised by “social influence” accounts of group polarization. But it is certainly
rational for people to care about their reputations. If they are changing their assessment because
of reputational considerations, what must be said is that maintaining a certain reputation is part
of what people care about (and there is nothing irrational about that). If people shift not for
reputational reasons but because of a certain self-conception – if, for example, they think of
themselves as people who are bold, or committed to a strong national defense, or left of center on
85
See id at XX.
86
Data from id. strongly support this speculation, with many deliberating juries producing dollar awards higher, and
sometimes significantly higher, than that of the higher individual pre-deliberation. Data to be added.
87
Within economics, see, e.g., Gary Becker, Accounting For Tastes (1998); Richard Thaler, Quasi-Rational
Economics (1993). Within law, see Symposium, The Legal Implications of Psychology, 51 Vand. L. Rev. 1499
(1998); Behavioral Law and Economics (Cass R. Sunstein ed. 2000).
88
Compare Hirshleifer, supra note (emphasizing the rationality of participation in informational cascades).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 20
issues of race – a change in position, after exposure to the views of others, also seems entirely
rational.
The problem with group polarization is not that people subject to it suffer from some
cognitive or motivational defect. The problem is instead that people may be shifted, as a result of
entirely rational processes, in the direction of factual, legal, or moral mistakes.
E. The Relativity of Polarization and Polarization Framing
Notwithstanding the rationality of those subject to polarization, it should be emphasized
that in laboratory studies, polarization occurs in terms of a specified issue and a specified scale.
The issue for exploration is therefore framed in a certain way, and here there is a potential for
manipulation. The same group of individuals, for example, might be inclined to be supportive of
greater employment opportunities for women and also inclined to be skeptical about “feminism”;
and polarization could drive otherwise identical groups toward more extreme positions on both
questions, so much so that, in theory, one group could become very strongly committed to
women’s employment opportunities that it embraced feminism, whereas another group could
become so skeptical of feminism that it raised questions about greater employment opportunities
for women. Here there is a lesson about the pervasive importance of “framing” in generating
positions about disputed questions.89
But there is a twist on the conventional view: In the
presence of polarization, questions can be framed in such a way as to shift groups, and
individuals who constitute them, in distinctive and even inconsistent directions.
Now if people attempt to square their various judgments with one another, in an attempt
to reach reflective equilibrium,90
inconsistent shifts are less likely, and people ought to be less
vulnerable to framing effects. In the real world, however, it is likely that polarization occurs
around issues as socially framed; cultural movements of various sorts – toward greater ethnic
identification, in favor of stronger national defense, on behalf of taxpayer support for the arts –
are a likely consequence. Undoubtedly political entrepreneurs, with self-interested or altruistic
agendas, are in some sense aware of this fact, and attempt to produce shifts along the scale that
has been made salient.
V. Implications and Illustrations
A. Outside the Laboratory
Group polarization should have a large effect on any deliberating group or institution; its
effects are hardly limited to the laboratory. Religious organizations tend, for example, to
strengthen group members’ religious convictions, simply by virtue of the fact that like-minded
people are talking to one another.91
Indeed religious groups amplify the religious impulse,
especially if group members are insulated from other groups; the result can be to lead people in
89
See Donald A. Redermeier et al., Understanding Patients’ Decisions, 270 JAMA 72, 73 (1993).
90
See John Rawls. A Theory of Justice (1971).
91
See David G. Myers, Polarizing Effects of Social Interaction, in Group Decision Making 125, 137-38 (Hermann
Barndstatter et al. eds 1982).
21 The Law of Group Polarization
quite bizarre directions.92
Survey evidence shows that dramatic social events, like the
assassination of Martin Luther King and civil rights disturbances, tend to polarize attitudes, with
both positive and negative attitudes increasing within demographic groups.93
A similar process
can harden attitudes toward outsiders and social change; thus proposals “for establishment of a
halfway house or a correctional facility have typically elicited private apprehensions which, after
discussion, become polarized into overt paranoia and hostility.”94
B. Outgroups
Group polarization has particular implications for insulated “outgroups.” Recall that
polarization increases when the deliberating group is able to define itself by contrast to some
other contrasting group95
; outgroups are in this position – of self-contrast to others – by
definition. Excluded by choice or coercion from discussion with others, such groups may
become polarized in quite extreme directions, often for no better reason than group polarization.
Extremism on the part of such groups (not excluding murders and suicides) is a possible result,96
especially if we consider the fact that extreme groups show comparatively greater polarization.97
There is also likely to be some rhetorical asymmetry within such groups, so that arguments in a
certain directions have the automatic upper hand. Consider, for example, a group of people who
tend to believe that academic freedom is threatened by the tendency to “political correctness” in
university life; in a debate about how much attention should be paid to (say) gender studies in the
curriculum, skeptics are likely to have the upper hand.
The tendency toward polarization among outgroups raises some doubts about the idea
that certain group discussion produce “consciousness raising.” It is possible, at least, that the
consequence of discussion is not to raise consciousness (an ambiguous term to be sure), but to
produce group polarization in one direction or another -- and at the same time to increase
confidence in the position that has newly emerged.98
This does not mean that consciousness is
never raised; undoubtedly group discussion can identify and clarify problems that were
previously repressed, or understood as an individual rather than social product. But nothing of
this sort is established by the mere fact that views have changed and coalesced, and are held,
post-discussion, with a high degree of confidence.99
C. Feuds, Ethnic and International Strife, and War
Some of the relevant processes are at work in feuds of all kinds; one of the characteristic
features of feuds is that the feuding groups tend to talk only to one another, fueling and
92
See Leon Festinger et al., When Prophecy Fails (1956).
93
See R.T Riley and T.F. Pettigrew, Dramatic Events and Attitude Change, 34 J Personality and Social Psych 1004
(1976).
94
Myers, supra, at 135.
95
See Turner et al., supra note, at 151.
96
Cf. Aronson, supra note (discussing mass suicide at Jones Beach).
97
See supra; Turner et al., supra, at 158, 167-70.
98
See Chip Heath and Rich Gonzalez, Interaction With Others Increases Decision Confidence But Not Decision
Quality: Evidence Against Information Collection Views of Interactive Decision Making, 61 Organizational
Behavior and Human Decision Processes 305 (1995).
99
See id.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 22
amplifying their outrage, and solidifying their impression of the relevant events.100
Informational
and reputational forces are very much at work here, producing cascade effects, and group
polarization sometimes leads members to increasingly extreme positions. It is not too much of a
leap to suggest that these effects are also present within ethnic groups and even nations,
notwithstanding the obvious fact that here there is a high degree of heterogeneity, and
deliberation cannot occur among all members at the same time.
Timur Kuran, for example, has explored the phenomenon of “ethnification.” Kuran’s
basic claim is that in many nations, including Turkey and the former Yugoslavia, ethnic strife is
not a reawakening of long-suppressed resentments, but instead a product of reputational
cascades. In this process, a failure to engage in ethnically identified activity produces
reputational sanctions, which grow in intensity over time, as increasing numbers of people join
the cascade. Hence “the fears and antagonisms that accompany high levels of ethnic activity may
be a result of ethnification rather than its root cause.”101
Kuran does not refer to group
polarization. But an understanding of this phenomenon would much fortify his analysis, by
showing how within-group discussion (which is, under conditions of ethnification, an
increasingly large percentage of total discussion) can ensure that ethnic groups, and individual
members of ethnic groups, end up with a far stronger ethnic identification than the median
member, before discussions began. In the extreme case, the result might be war.102
And when a
war begins, group polarization, if it operates at the national level, can help ensure continued
hostility and antagonism.
D. The Internet and Mass Deliberation
Many people have expressed concern about processes of social influence on the
Internet.103
The general problem is said to be one of fragmentation, with certain people hearing
more and louder versions of their own preexisting commitments, thus reducing the benefits that
come from exposure to competing views and unnoticed problems.104
But an understanding of
group polarization heightens these concerns and raises new ones. A “plausible hypothesis is that
the Internet-like setting is most likely to create a strong tendency toward group polarization when
the members of the group feel some sense of group identity.”105
If certain people are deliberating
with many like-minded others, views will not be reinforced but instead shifted to more extreme
points. This cannot be said to be bad by itself – perhaps the increased extremism is good – but it
is certainly troublesome if diverse social groups are led, through predictable mechanisms, toward
increasingly opposing and ever more extreme views. It is likely that processes of this general sort
have threatened both peace and stability in some nations106
; while dire consequences are unlikely
in the United States, both fragmentation and violence are predictable results. As we have seen,
group polarization is intensified if people are speaking anonymously and if attention is drawn,
100
See Jon Elster, The Cement of Society (1994).
101
See Timur Kuran, Ethnic Norms and Their Transformation Through Reputational Cascades, 27 J Legal Stud 623,
648 (1998).
102
See id. at 650-51.
103
See Lawrence Lessig, Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace 186 (1999); Andrew Shapiro, The Control Revolution
(1999).
104
See id.
105
See Patricia Wallace,, supra note, at 73-84.
106
See Timur Kuran, supra note, at 635-650.
23 The Law of Group Polarization
through one or another means, to group membership. Many Internet discussion groups have
precisely this feature. It is therefore plausible to speculate that the Internet may be serving, for
many, as a breeding group for extremism.
Consider in this regard a study not of extremism, but of serious errors within working
groups, both face-to-face and online.107
The purpose of the study was to see how groups might
collaborate to make personnel decisions. Resumes for three candidates, applying for a marketing
manager position, were placed before the groups; the attributes of the candidates were rigged by
the experimenters so that one applicant was best matched for the job described. Packets of
information were given to subjects, each containing only a subset of information from the
resumes, so that each group member had only part of the relevant information. The groups
consisted of three people, some operating face-to-face, some operating on-line. Two results were
especially striking: Group polarization was common; and almost none (!) of the deliberating
groups made what was conspicuously the right choice, because they failed to share information
in a way that would permit the group to make an objective decision. In on-line groups, the level
of bias was especially high, in the sense that members tended to share positive information about
the winning candidate and negative information about the losers, while also suppressing negative
information about the winner and positive information about the losers. These contributions
served to “reinforce the march toward group consensus rather than add complications and fuel
debate,”108
This tendency was twice at large within the online groups.
It is much too early to offer a confident account of the consequences of group
deliberation via computer and on the Internet. But what has been said thus far should be
sufficient to show that group polarization may be especially pronounced under conditions of
anonymity, in a way that magnifies mistakes and biases. Though the study just described did not
involve political or moral issues, the results are plausibly taken to suggest that one-sidedness,
and consequently extremeness, can be heightened when communication occurs via computer.
E. Legal and Political Institutions
With respect to legal and political institutions, there is generally little direct evidence; but
it is possible to venture several points.
1. Juries. Group polarization is well-documented on juries; this is the only legal
institution for which direct evidence exists. In experimental settings, polarization has been found
in numerous settings with respect to guilt and innocence, and indeed this appears to be an
uncontradicted finding.109
Outside of the experimental setting, we know that the predeliberation
verdict predicts the final outcome 90% of the time, in cases where juries do not hang; this
provides “powerful presumptive evidence that group polarization occurs in real juries.”110
As noted, a more recent study of 300 deliberating juries found massive group polarization
with respect to bounded punishment scales; groups whose median pre-deliberation vote was 3 or
107
See Hightower and Sayeed, supra note.
108
Wallace, supra note, at 82.
109
See Brown, supra note, at 227-29 (collecting studies).
110
Id. at 239.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 24
less tended to generate verdicts below that of the median voter, whereas groups whose median
pre-deliberation vote was above 3 tended to generate verdicts above that of the median voter.
Indeed, many such juries ended up with verdicts as low or lower (for the low verdicts) as that of
the lowest predeliberation voter, and as high or higher (for the high verdicts) as that of the
highest predeliberation voter. I have also noted that with respect to dollars, this study did not find
group polarization, at least in any simple form; positive dollar amounts generally increased,
because of the rhetorical asymmetry referred to above. On the other hand: As compared to the
median of predeliberation judgments, dollar amounts increased far more at the high end, and this
effect is broadly consistent with the idea of group polarization.
2. Independent regulatory commissions. The twentieth century has seen the rise of a
number of “independent” regulatory commissions, including the Federal Communications
Commission, the Federal Trade Commission, and the National Labor Relations Board. These
commissions have attracted attention mostly because their members are immune from plenary
removal power by the President.111
An equally striking but generally overlooked provision of the
relevant statutes requires bipartisan membership: The independent commissions must be divided
between Republicans and Democrats. A simple and undoubtedly correct explanation of this
unusual requirement is that Congress wanted to ensure that no commission would be dominated
by any single party. But an understanding of group polarization would strengthen any such
concern on Congress’ part. An independent agency – the FCC, the NLRB, the CPSC -- that is
all-Democratic, or all-Republican, might polarize toward an extreme position, likely more
extreme than that of the median Democrat or Republican, and possibly more extreme than that of
any member standing alone. A requirement of bipartisan membership can operate as a check
against movements of this kind.
3. Multimember courts. Group polarization should also occur on multimember courts.
Notwithstanding platitudes about judicial neutrality, judges often have a great deal of latitude,
sometimes in the ultimate outcome, more often in determining the reach of their decision. If a
court consists of three or more like-minded judges, it may well end up with a relatively extreme
position, more extreme in fact than the position it would occupy if it consisted of two likeminded
individuals and one of a different orientation.
There is no direct confirmation of this general proposition. But some support comes from
an intriguing study of judicial behavior on the D.C. Circuit.112
Under Chevron v. NRDC,113
courts
are supposed to uphold agency interpretations of law so long as the interpretations are
“reasonable.” When do courts obey this stricture? The study strongly suggests that group
polarization plays a role. The most important finding is a dramatic difference, on the United
States court of appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, between politically diverse panels
(with judges appointed by Presidents of more than one party) and “unified” panels (with judges
appointed by Presidents of only one party). On divided panels in which a majority of the court
might be expected, on broadly speaking political grounds, to be hostile to the agency, the court
111
See, e.g., Lawrence Lessig and Cass R. Sunstein, The President and the Administration, 94 Colum L Rev 1
(1994).
112
See Frank Cross and Emerson Tiller, Judicial Partisanship and Obedience to Legal Doctrine, 107 Yale LJ 2155
(1998).
113
See US (1984)
25 The Law of Group Polarization
deferred to the agency 62% of the time. But on unified panels in which the court might be
expected to be hostile to the agency, the court upheld the agency interpretation only 33% of the
time. Note that this was the only asymmetry in the data; when courts were expected to uphold the
agency’s decision on political controls, they did so over 70% of the time, whether unified (71%
of the time) or divided (86% of the time). There is no smoking gun here, but it seems reasonable
to speculate that the seemingly bizarre result – a mere 33% validation rate in cases in which the
panel was unified – reflects a process of group polarization. A group of like-minded judges may
well take the relatively unusual step of rejecting an agency interpretation, whereas as a divided
panel, with a check on any tendency toward extreme outcomes, is more likely to take the
conventional route.
4. Legislatures. Legislators are likely to be susceptible to group polarization, partly
because of the effects of limited argument pools, perhaps above all because of social influence
(and the importance of conveying a proper signal to fellow legislators and above all
constituents). Imagine, for example, that a group of Republicans and a group of Democrats are
thinking about how to vote on a proposed law – perhaps involving military spending, or an
increase in the minimum wage, or mandatory parental leave legislation, or greater environmental
protection. If Republicans are speaking mostly with Republicans, and if Democrats are speaking
mostly with Democrats, we should expect a hardening of views toward the more extreme points.
Undoubtedly this is part (certainly not all) of the explanation of party-line voting. And it is easy
to imagine similar effects on Congress as a whole.
A result of this general kind has been documented with the original passage of the Clean
Air Act.114
In the relevant period, there was a great deal of electoral pressure to enact some kind
of clean air legislation. Both President Nixon and Senator Muskie attempted to signal to voters
that they cared a great deal about the environment. The difficulty was that both of them found
themselves in a kind of “politicians’ dilemma,” in which they had to urge more and more
aggressive regulation – more aggressive, in fact, than either of them sought – precisely in order
to maintain the preferred relative position vis-a-vis the electorate. Congress itself polarized
accordingly, toward a more extreme position than most or even all individuals would have
sought beforehand.
There are significant differences between the legislative process and the contexts in
which group polarization has been studied, above all because members of Congress are subject
to external political sanctions. Even if members are persuaded that a certain course of action
makes best sense, they may vote otherwise, simply because of what their constituents want.
Hence a limited argument pool, for members of a particular party, may matter much less than a
clear signal from people back home. This point may explain occasional defections on both sides;
certainly it explains why some members are able to resist both party pressures and the logic of
group polarization. Unambiguous electoral signals can be a powerful buffer against that logic
(though the signals themselves may be a function of group polarization within the electorate).
The same point bears on the relevance of social influence. Members of the Republican
Party are likely to care a great deal what fellow Republicans think of them; but they probably
114
See E. Donald Elliott et al., supra note.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 26
care still more about what local voters think of them. To be sure, the two are not independent of
one another. If a certain Republican seems like an outlier among Republicans generally – for
example, if he seems less sympathetic to the religious right than his colleagues – his electoral
prospects might be damaged simply by virtue of this signal. But analytically, the two are
different. Here too the votes of constituents may matter more than group deliberations (taking
members of the same party as the relevant group).
It is important to underline here the fact that the mechanisms of group polarization may
sometimes be at work with constituents as well. We can imagine a society in which Republicans
speak mostly with each other; we can imagine a society in which Democrats speak mostly with
one another too. If this is the situation, polarization should occur within political camps. We
might think that group polarization supplies one of the many factors behind the sharp split
between Republicans and Democrats on the impeachment of President Clinton.115
VI. Deliberative Trouble?
A. Doubts
The phenomenon of group polarization, alongside the phenomenon of social cascades,
raises severe doubts about the value of deliberation. Note here that deliberation might be
justified, as a social practice, on one of two grounds. It may be that on the question at issue, there
is a truth of the matter – a correct answer – and deliberation might be justified as the best way of
reaching it.116
Group decisions are more likely to be right than decisions made by individuals.
Alternatively, we might favor deliberation for the opposite reason; doubting whether there is a
truth of the matter, a society might seek a deliberative process on the theory that this is the only
reasonable and fair way to reach a decision that will be imposed on the group.117
Group
polarization raises no difficulty for the second sort of account; but it poses real problems for the
first. If the effect of deliberation is to move people toward a more extreme point in the direction
of their original tendency, why is it anything to celebrate? Nor do the mechanisms provide much
reason for confidence. If people are shifting their position in order to maintain their reputation
and self-conception, is there any reason to think that deliberation is making things better rather
than worse? If shifts are occurring as a result of partial and frequently skewed argument pools,
the results of deliberative judgments may be far worse than the results of simply taken the
median of predeliberation judgments.
To be sure, those who emphasize the ideals associated with deliberative democracy tend
to emphasize its preconditions, which include political equality and the goal of “reaching
understanding.”118
In real-world deliberations, behavior is often strategic, and equality is often
115
For more detailed discussion, see Cass R. Sunstein, Group Dynamics, forthcoming in Aftermath (2000).
116
This is the tendency in Gutmann and Thompson, supra note
117
See the discussion of imperfect procedural justice and pure procedural justice in John Rawls, A Theory of Justice
(1971).
118
See Jurgen Habermas, A Theory of Communicative Action 99 (1984). Thus Habermas distinguishes between
strategic and communicative action and stresses “the cooperatively pursued goal of reaching understanding”;
compare the treatment in Gutmann and Thompson, supra note, at 52-94, emphasizing the idea of reciprocity, which
emphasizes the desire to justify one’s position by reference to reasons.
27 The Law of Group Polarization
absent in one or another form. But group polarization is likely to occur even in the face of
equality and entirely conscientious efforts at reaching both truth and understanding. The
existence of a limited argument pool, strengthening the existing tendency within the group, will
operate in favor of group polarization even if no individual behaves strategically. By itself this
will produce group polarization whether or not social influence is operating. In any case social
influences need not be inconsistent with the effort to produce truth and understanding; when
people attempt to position themselves in a way that fits with their best self-conception, or their
preferred self-presentation, nothing has gone wrong, even from the standpoint of deliberation’s
most enthusiastic defenders.119
Perhaps group polarization could be reduced or even eliminated if
we emphasized that good deliberation has full information as a precondition; but that
requirement is extremely stringent, and if there is already full information, the point of
deliberation is greatly reduced.120
In any case the group polarization phenomenon suggests that in
real-world situations, deliberation is hardly guaranteed to increase the likelihood of arriving at
truth.
Of course we cannot say, from the mere fact of polarization, that there has been a
movement in the wrong direction. Perhaps the more extreme tendency is better; recall that group
polarization is likely to have fueled the antislavery movement and many others that deserve to
meet with widespread approval. Extremism need not be a word of opprobrium, and in any case a
group of moderates is likely, as noted, to become entrenched in its moderation by virtue of the
mechanisms discussed here. In addition, group polarization can be explained partly by reference
to the fact that people who are confident are likely to be persuasive; and it seems sensible to say
that as a statistical matter, people who are confident are more likely to be right. But when group
discussion tends to lead people to more strongly held versions of the same view with which they
began, and if social influences and limited argument pools are responsible, there is little reason
for great confidence in the effects of deliberation.
B. A Lesson
As a thought experiment, imagine a deliberating body consisting of all citizens in the
relevant group; this may mean all citizens in a community, a state, a nation, or the world. By
hypothesis, the argument pool would be very large; it would be limited only to the extent that
the set of citizen views was also limited. Social influences would undoubtedly remain; hence
people might shift because of a desire to maintain their reputation and self-conception, by
standing in a certain relation to the rest of the group. But to the extent that deliberation revealed
to people that their private position was different, in relation to the group, from what they
thought it was, any shift would be in response to an accurate understanding of all relevant
citizens, and not a product of a skewed group sample.
This thought experiment does not suggest that the hypothesized deliberating body would
be ideal. Perhaps all citizens, presenting all individual views, would offer a skewed picture from
the normative point of view. Perhaps weak arguments would be made and repeated and repeated
again, while good arguments would be offered infrequently. But at least a deliberating body of
119
See Robert Goodin, Laundering Preferences, in Foundations of Social Choice Theory 75, 77-90 (Jon Elster and
Aanund Hyllund eds. 1986).
120
Not eliminated. There remains the question of what to do, given a certain understanding of the facts.
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 28
all citizens would remove some of the distortions in the group polarization experiments, where
generally like-minded people, not exposed to others, shift in large part because of that limited
exposure.
A possible conclusion would return to the need for full information, not only about facts
but also about possible options and values, and suggest that in any deliberating body, it is
important to ensure a wide mix of views, so as to ensure that a distorted argument pool does not
produce unearned or unjustified shift. For a leader of any institution, it makes sense, in any
ordinary circumstance, to try to ensure a broad array of views, simply in order to ensure against
the predictable entrenchment of private judgments. The idea of a “public sphere” can be
understood as an effort to ensure a domain in which multiple views can be heard, and can be
heard by people having multiple perspectives.121
Thus there is reason for caution about any
institutional practice that insulates people from competing arguments.122
Indeed, an
understanding of group polarization suggests that it would be desirable to take steps to reduce the
likelihood that panels on federal courts of appeals do not consist solely of appointees of
presidents of any single political party.
Of course any argument pool will be limited; no one has time to listen to every point of
view. But perhaps the largest lesson involves the need for caution about the effects of
deliberation within groups all or most of whose members already have an extreme tendency.
Heterogeneous groups are a far better source of good judgments. The principal qualification here
is that heterogeneity is by itself neither here nor there; the question is how to ensure appropriate
heterogeneity. For example, it would not make sense to say that in a deliberating group
attempting to think through issues of affirmative action, it is important to allow exposure to the
view that slavery was good and should be restored. The constraints of time and attention call for
limits to heterogeneity; and – a separate point -- for good deliberation to take place, some views
are properly placed off the table, simply because they are so invidious and implausible. This
point might seem to create a conundrum: To know what points of view should be represented in
any group deliberation, it is important to have a good sense of the substantive issues involved,
indeed a sufficiently good sense as to generate judgments about what points of view must be
included and excluded. But if we already know that, why should we not proceed directly to the
merits? If we already know that, before deliberation occurs, does deliberation have any point at
all?
The answer is that we often do know enough to know which views count as reasonable,
without knowing which view counts as right, and this point is sufficient to allow people to
construct deliberative processes that should correct for the most serious problems potentially
created by group deliberation. What is necessary is not to allow every view to be heard, but to
ensue that no single view is so widely heard, and reinforced, that people are unable to engage in
critical evaluation of the reasonable competitors. In this way an understanding of group
polarization provides no simple view of deliberation as a social process, but does provide an
important lesson to those interested in the construction of public spaces or a well-functioning
public sphere.
121
See Jurgen Habermas, The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere 231-50 (1991).
122
See Lessig, supra note, at 186.
29 The Law of Group Polarization
Of course the provision of diverse views does not guarantee good deliberation. Among
other things, most people are subject to “confirmatory bias,” in accordance with which exposure
to competing position will not dislodge and may even strengthen the antecedently held
position.123
On questions of morality and fairness, and undoubtedly less as well, those who listen
to diverse opinions may well emerge from the experience with an enhanced belief in the
soundness of their original commitment.124
But this is not a universal phenomenon, and at least
an understanding of competing views is likely to weaken the forms of fragmentation and
misunderstanding that come from deliberation among the like-minded.
C. The Deliberative Opinion Poll: A Contrast
In an interesting combination of theoretical and empirical work, James Fishkin has
pioneered the idea of a “deliberative opinion poll,” in which small groups, consisting of highly
diverse individuals, are asked to come together and to deliberate about various issues. Fishkin
finds some noteworthy shifts in individual views; but he does not find a systematic tendency
toward polarization. In England, for example, deliberation led to reduced interest in using
imprisonment as a tool for combating crime.125
The percentage believing that “sending more
offenders to prison” is an effective way to prevent crime went down from 57% to 38%; the
percentage believing that fewer people should be sent to prison increased from 29% to 44%;
belief in the effectiveness of “stiffer sentences” was reduced from 78% to 65%.126
Similar shifts
were shown in the direction of greater enthusiasm for procedural rights of defendants and
increased willingness to explore alternatives to prison. These are not the changes that would be
predicted by group polarization. The probable reason is that in Fishkin’s studies, participants
were presented with a set of written materials that attempted to be balanced but that would likely
move people in different directions from those that would be expected by simple group
discussion. Indeed, the very effort to produce balance should be expected to shift large majorities
into small ones, pressing both sides closer to 50% representation; and this is in fact what was
observed.127
In other experiments with the deliberative opinion poll, shifts included a mixture of
findings, with larger percentages of individuals concluding that legal pressures should be
increased on fathers for child support (from 70% to 85%) and that welfare and health care should
be turned over to the states (from 56% to 66%).128
Indeed, on many particular issues, the effect of
deliberation was to create an increase in the intensity with which people held their preexisting
convictions.129
These findings are consistent with the prediction of group polarization. But this
was not a uniform pattern, and on some questions deliberation increased the percentage of people
holding a minority position (with, for example, a jump from 36% to 57% of people favoring
123
See Jonathan Baron, Thinking and Deciding (1994).
124
See id.
125
Fishkin, supra note, at 206-07.
126
Id.
127
See id.
128
Fishkin and Luskin, supra note, at 23.
129
See id. at 22-23 (showing a jump, on a scale of 1 to 4, from 3.51 to 3.58 in intensity of commitment to reducing
the deficit); a jump, on a scale of 1 to 3, from 2.71 to 2.85 in intensity of support for greater spending on education;
showing a jump, on a scale of 1 to 3, from 1.95 to 2.16, in commitment to aiding American business interests
abroad).
Chicago Working Paper in Law and Economics 30
policies making divorce “harder to get”).130
Taken as a whole, a great deal of Fishkin’s data seem
to support the group polarization hypothesis; what does not is probably a product of some
combination of statistical noise, effects of external presentation, and deviations produced by
members of the particular groups involved.
Conclusion
In this essay I have attempted to discuss the phenomenon of group polarization and to
trace some of its implications for law and political theory. The basic point is that group
deliberation can create polarization of both groups and individuals. The underlying mechanisms
have a great deal to do with skewed and limited argument pools, and with people’s desire to
maintain relative position of a certain kind (perhaps as a heuristic, perhaps for reputational
reasons, perhaps because of self-conception). Group polarization can occur on juries, within
legislatures, and on multimember courts and commissions. The phenomenon helps explain why
many groups go, quite surprisingly, in extreme directions.
In the abstract, and without knowing about the underlying substance, it is impossible to
say whether this tendency is good or bad. But the mechanisms that underlie group polarization
raise serious questions about any general enthusiasm for deliberative processes. If the argument
for deliberation is that it is likely to yield correct answers to social questions, group polarization
suggests the need for attention to the background conditions in which this is likely to be the case.
Like-minded people, engaged in discussion with one another, may lead each other in the
direction of error and falsehood, simply because of the limited argument pool and the operation
of social influences. I have suggested that the best response to this problem is to attempt to
ensure against social balkanization and fragmentation, through mechanisms providing a “public
sphere” that is used, at once, by people with competing perspectives on facts and values. If a
general public sphere is unavailable or not feasible, it becomes all the more important to ensure
that in the course of deliberation, people are exposed to a range of reasonable competing views.
Of course it might seem hard to know what counts as a reasonable competing view
without knowing what is actually right, and if we already know that, there might seem to be little
point to deliberation. But short of knowing what is right, it is possible to know something about
the range of reasonable candidates, and about who might learn from whom. Perhaps the largest
lesson provided by group polarization involves the need to structure processes of deliberation so
as to ensure that people are exposed, not to softer or louder echoes of their own voices, but to a
range of reasonable alternatives. By itself, that lesson is very far from new; but an understanding
of the potential effects of group polarization argues in favor of fresh thinking, and possible
reforms, in many contemporary institutions.
130
Id. at 23. See also id at 22 (showing an increase , on a scale of 1 to 3, from 1.40 to 1.59 in commitment to
spending on foreign aid ; also a decrease, on a scale of 1 to 3, from 2.38 to 2.27 in commitment to spending on
social security).
Readers with comments should address them to:
Cass R. Sunstein
Karl N. Llewellyn Distinguished Service Professor
University of Chicago Law School
1111 East 60th
Street
Chicago, IL 60637
Chicago Working Papers in Law and Economics
(Second Series)
1. William M. Landes, Copyright Protection of Letters, Diaries
and Other Unpublished Works: An Economic Approach (July
1991).
2. Richard A. Epstein, The Path to The T. J. Hooper: The Theory
and History of Custom in the Law of Tort (August 1991).
3. Cass R. Sunstein, On Property and Constitutionalism
(September 1991).
4. Richard A. Posner, Blackmail, Privacy, and Freedom of
Contract (February 1992).
5. Randal C. Picker, Security Interests, Misbehavior, and
Common Pools (February 1992).
6. Tomas J. Philipson & Richard A. Posner, Optimal Regulation
of AIDS (April 1992).
7. Douglas G. Baird, Revisiting Auctions in Chapter 11 (April
1992).
8. William M. Landes, Sequential versus Unitary Trials: An
Economic Analysis (July 1992).
9. William M. Landes & Richard A. Posner, The Influence of
Economics on Law: A Quantitative Study (August 1992).
10. Alan O. Sykes, The Welfare Economics of Immigration Law: A
Theoretical Survey With An Analysis of U.S. Policy (September
1992).
11. Douglas G. Baird, 1992 Katz Lecture: Reconstructing Contracts
(November 1992).
12. Gary S. Becker, The Economic Way of Looking at Life
(January 1993).
13. J. Mark Ramseyer, Credibly Committing to Efficiency Wages:
Cotton Spinning Cartels in Imperial Japan (March 1993).
14. Cass R. Sunstein, Endogenous Preferences, Environmental Law
(April 1993).
15. Richard A. Posner, What Do Judges and Justices Maximize?
(The Same Thing Everyone Else Does) (April 1993).
16. Lucian Arye Bebchuk and Randal C. Picker, Bankruptcy Rules,
Managerial Entrenchment, and Firm-Specific Human Capital
(August 1993).
17. J. Mark Ramseyer, Explicit Reasons for Implicit Contracts: The
Legal Logic to the Japanese Main Bank System (August 1993).
18. William M. Landes and Richard A. Posner, The Economics of
Anticipatory Adjudication (September 1993).
19. Kenneth W. Dam, The Economic Underpinnings of Patent
Law (September 1993).
20. Alan O. Sykes, An Introduction to Regression Analysis
(October 1993).
21. Richard A. Epstein, The Ubiquity of the Benefit Principle
(March 1994).
22. Randal C. Picker, An Introduction to Game Theory and the
Law (June 1994).
23. William M. Landes, Counterclaims: An Economic Analysis
(June 1994).
24. J. Mark Ramseyer, The Market for Children: Evidence from
Early Modern Japan (August 1994).
25. Robert H. Gertner and Geoffrey P. Miller, Settlement Escrows
(August 1994).
26. Kenneth W. Dam, Some Economic Considerations in the
Intellectual Property Protection of Software (August 1994).
27. Cass R. Sunstein, Rules and Rulelessness, (October 1994).
28. David Friedman, More Justice for Less Money: A Step Beyond
Cimino (December 1994).
29. Daniel Shaviro, Budget Deficits and the Intergenerational
Distribution of Lifetime Consumption (January 1995).
30. Douglas G. Baird, The Law and Economics of Contract
Damages (February 1995).
31. Daniel Kessler, Thomas Meites, and Geoffrey P. Miller,
Explaining Deviations from the Fifty Percent Rule: A
Multimodal Approach to the Selection of Cases for Litigation
(March 1995).
32. Geoffrey P. Miller, Das Kapital: Solvency Regulation of the
American Business Enterprise (April 1995).
33. Richard Craswell, Freedom of Contract (August 1995).
34. J. Mark Ramseyer, Public Choice (November 1995).
35. Kenneth W. Dam, Intellectual Property in an Age of Software
and Biotechnology (November 1995).
36. Cass R. Sunstein, Social Norms and Social Roles (January
1996).
37. J. Mark Ramseyer and Eric B. Rasmusen, Judicial Independence
in Civil Law Regimes: Econometrics from Japan (January 1996).
38. Richard A. Epstein, Transaction Costs and Property Rights: Or
Do Good Fences Make Good Neighbors? (March 1996).
39. Cass R. Sunstein, The Cost-Benefit State (May 1996).
40. William M. Landes and Richard A. Posner, The Economics of
Legal Disputes Over the Ownership of Works of Art and Other
Collectibles (July 1996).
41. John R. Lott, Jr. and David B. Mustard, Crime, Deterrence, and
Right-to-Carry Concealed Handguns (August 1996).
42. Cass R. Sunstein, Health-Health Tradeoffs (September 1996).
43. Douglas G. Baird, The Hidden Virtues of Chapter 11: An
Overview of the la and Economics of Financially Distressed
Firms (March 1997).
44. Richard A. Posner, Community, Wealth, and Equality (March
1997).
45. William M. Landes, The Art of Law and Economics: An
Autobiographical Essay (March 1997).
46. Cass R. Sunstein, Behavioral Analysis of Law (April 1997).
47. John R. Lott, Jr. and Kermit Daniel, Term Limits and Electoral
Competitiveness: Evidence from California’s State Legislative
Races (May 1997).
48. Randal C. Picker, Simple Games in a Complex World: A
Generative Approach to the Adoption of Norms (June 1997).
49. Richard A. Epstein, Contracts Small and Contracts Large:
Contract Law through the Lens of Laissez-Faire (August 1997).
50. Cass R. Sunstein, Daniel Kahneman, and David Schkade,
Assessing Punitive Damages (with Notes on Cognition and
Valuation in Law) (December 1997).
51. William M. Landes, Lawrence Lessig, and Michael E.
Solimine, Judicial Influence: A Citation Analysis of Federal
Courts of Appeals Judges (January 1998).
52. John R. Lott, Jr., A Simple Explanation for Why Campaign
Expenditures are Increasing: The Government is Getting
Bigger (February 1998).
53. Richard A. Posner, Values and Consequences: An Introduction
to Economic Analysis of Law (March 1998).
54. Denise DiPasquale and Edward L. Glaeser, Incentives and
Social Capital: Are Homeowners Better Citizens? (April 1998).
55. Christine Jolls, Cass R. Sunstein, and Richard Thaler, A
Behavioral Approach to Law and Economics (May 1998).
56. John R. Lott, Jr., Does a Helping Hand Put Others At Risk?:
Affirmative Action, Police Departments, and Crime (May
1998).
57. Cass R. Sunstein and Edna Ullmann-Margalit, Second-Order
Decisions (June 1998).
58. Jonathan M. Karpoff and John R. Lott, Jr., Punitive Damages:
Their Determinants, Effects on Firm Value, and the Impact of
Supreme Court and Congressional Attempts to Limit Awards
(July 1998).
59. Kenneth W. Dam, Self-Help in the Digital Jungle (August
1998).
60. John R. Lott, Jr., How Dramatically Did Women’s Suffrage
Change the Size and Scope of Government? (September 1998)
61. Kevin A. Kordana and Eric A. Posner, A Positive Theory of
Chapter 11 (October 1998)
62. David A. Weisbach, Line Drawing, Doctrine, and Efficiency in
the Tax Law (November 1998)
63. Jack L. Goldsmith and Eric A. Posner, A Theory of Customary
International Law (November 1998)
64. John R. Lott, Jr., Public Schooling, Indoctrination, and
Totalitarianism (December 1998)
65. Cass R. Sunstein, Private Broadcasters and the Public Interest:
Notes Toward A “Third Way” (January 1999)
66. Richard A. Posner, An Economic Approach to the Law of
Evidence (February 1999)
67. Yannis Bakos, Erik Brynjolfsson, Douglas Lichtman, Shared
Information Goods (February 1999)
68. Kenneth W. Dam, Intellectual Property and the Academic
Enterprise (February 1999)
69. Gertrud M. Fremling and Richard A. Posner, Status Signaling
and the Law, with Particular Application to Sexual Harassment
(March 1999)
70. Cass R. Sunstein, Must Formalism Be Defended Empirically?
(March 1999)
71. Jonathan M. Karpoff, John R. Lott, Jr., and Graeme Rankine,
Environmental Violations, Legal Penalties, and Reputation
Costs (March 1999)
72. Matthew D. Adler and Eric A. Posner, Rethinking CostBenefit
Analysis (April 1999)
73. John R. Lott, Jr. and William M. Landes, Multiple Victim
Public Shooting, Bombings, and Right-to-Carry Concealed
Handgun Laws: Contrasting Private and Public Law
Enforcement (April 1999)
74. Lisa Bernstein, The Questionable Empirical Basis of Article 2’s
Incorporation Strategy: A Preliminary Study (May 1999)
75. Richard A. Epstein, Deconstructing Privacy: and Putting It
Back Together Again (May 1999)
76. William M. Landes, Winning the Art Lottery: The Economic
Returns to the Ganz Collection (May 1999)
77. Cass R. Sunstein, David Schkade, and Daniel Kahneman, Do
People Want Optimal Deterrence? (June 1999)
78. Tomas J. Philipson and Richard A. Posner, The Long-Run
Growth in Obesity as a Function of Technological Change
(June 1999)
79. David A. Weisbach, Ironing Out the Flat Tax (August 1999)
80. Eric A. Posner, A Theory of Contract Law under Conditions of
Radical Judicial Error (August 1999)
81. David Schkade, Cass R. Sunstein, and Daniel Kahneman,
Are Juries Less Erratic than Individuals? Deliberation,
Polarization, and Punitive Damages (September 1999)
82. Cass R. Sunstein, Nondelegation Canons (September 1999)
83. Richard A. Posner, The Theory and Practice of Citations
Analysis, with Special Reference to Law and Economics
(September 1999)
84. Randal C. Picker, Regulating Network Industries: A Look at
Intel (October 1999)
85. Cass R. Sunstein, Cognition and Cost-Benefit Analysis
(October 1999)
86. Douglas G. Baird and Edward R. Morrison, Optimal Timing
and Legal Decisionmaking: The Case of the Liquidation
Decision in Bankruptcy (October 1999)
87. Gertrud M. Fremling and Richard A. Posner, Market Signaling
of Personal Characteristics (November 1999)
88. Matthew D. Adler and Eric A. Posner, Implementing CostBenefit
Analysis When Preferences Are Distorted (November
1999)
89. Richard A. Posner, Orwell versus Huxley: Economics,
Technology, Privacy, and Satire (November 1999)
90. David A. Weisbach, Should the Tax Law Require Current
Accrual of Interest on Derivative Financial Instruments?
(December 1999)
91. Cass R. Sunstein, The Law of Group Polarization (December
1999)
6 Inclusive Public Space
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Kennett, Patricia. 1999. “Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion.” Pp. 37–
60 in Homelessness: exploring the new terrain. Edited by Patricia Kennett and
Alex Marsh. Bristol: The Policy Press.
Mathieson, Jane, Jennie Popay, Etheline Enoch, Sarah Escorel, Mario Hernandez,
Heidi Johnston, and Laetitia Rispel. 2008. “The meanings of social exclusion.”
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354
6.1 Homelessness, Citizenship and Social Exclusion
355
37
THREE
Homelessness, citizenship
and social exclusion
Patricia Kennett
This chapter considers the relationship between homelessness and the
concepts of citizenship and social exclusion. The connections are complex
and numerous while at the same time nebulous and changing. The
meanings of the concepts themselves represent ‘contested terrain’. This
chapter will argue, however, that this conceptual framework contributes
to an understanding of the multiple connections between the ensembles
of social rights, institutional and policy arrangements within and through
which homelessness has been understood and through which the
boundaries of citizenship and social exclusion have been drawn. The
discussion will be located in the context of the contemporary
‘entrepreneurial’ city.
This chapter will begin with a brief discussion of the concepts of
citizenship and social exclusion (for fuller discussions see Turner, 1993;
Room, 1995; Bulmer and Rees, 1996; Jordan, 1996; Levitas, 1998; Lister,
1998). Developments in the post-war period will then be explored to
establish the institutional,ideological and discursive context through which
homelessness was constructed and the boundaries of citizenship and
inclusionary and exclusionary criteria were established. The chapter will
then consider the emergence of the new homelessness within an alternative
policy discourse. Particularly from the early 1980s, this discourse was
accompanied by the renegotiation of the content and meaning of
citizenship rights. The chapter will argue that the current model of
social integration and citizenship seems to be one in which there has
been a re-evaluation of the notion of civil rights and an increasing emphasis
on the‘privatised’ citizen (Lister,1990),active in the workfare state of the
stakeholder society.
38
Homelessness
Citizenship and social exclusion
The concept of citizenship has a long history but is most commonly
associated with the work of T.H. Marshall (1950) for whom citizenship is
based upon rights and entitlements. His central theme was that the rights
of citizenship involve national constitutional rights such as civil and political
rights,as well as embracing social rights,each of which is closely associated
with social and political institutions. The hallmark of advanced industrial
democracies is the eventual institutionalisation of all three types of rights
and, in particular, social citizenship. For Marshall, the citizenship rights
that accrue to members of a political community integrate previously
unintegrated segments of the population and serve to mitigate some of
the inequalities of class, thus altering the pattern of social inequality.
Marshall discusses‘class fusion’which he refers to as the“general enrichment
of the concrete substance of civilised life, a general reduction of risk and
insecurity,and equalisation between the more or less fortunate at all levels”
(Marshall,1950,p 6). This leads“...towards a fuller measure of equality,an
enrichment of the stuff of which the status is made and an increase in the
number of those on whom the status is bestowed”(p 29). Marshall’s thesis
has been criticised for its evolutionary and Anglocentric nature (Giddens,
1982; Mann, 1987), as well as its emphasis on class. As Marsh (1998)
points out,general accounts of citizenship often render other social divisions
in society,such as gender and ethnicity,invisible. Marshall (1950) also fails
to recognise the contingency, flexibility and fragility of the social contract
between the state and the individual and that the attainment of citizenship
rights and the opportunity to exercise such rights is a process of constant
struggle and negotiation. The progression from civil to political and social
rights is not the smooth, inevitable process Marshall suggests, but has
always been dependent on political struggles between social movements,
groups and classes. Retrogression and the erosion of the rights of particular
groups are an ever-present possibility.
Byrne (1997) describes the term social exclusion as “currently the
most fashionable term” (p 28) for describing social divisions in European
capitalist societies. It has been the catalyst for extensive debate regarding
the nature of social differentiation (for example, Rodgers, et al, 1995;
Room, 1995; Jordan, 1996) and is now widely utilised both in national
and international policy arenas (for example,European Commission,1994;
Social Exclusion Unit, 1998). Saraceno (1997) argues that the
reconstruction of debates from poverty to social exclusion has involved
“an actual conceptual shift, and a change in perspective; from a static to
39
a dynamic approach, as well as from a distributional to a relational focus”
(p 177). Lee and Murie (1997) point out that the term social exclusion
is more explicitly concerned with the social rights of citizenship and the
ability to exercise such rights,particularly in relation to accessing services
such as housing, employment and healthcare. And, according to
Abrahamson (1997) “the element that distinguishes social exclusion from
poverty and makes it, perhaps, more potent, is ... the affiliation with the
issue of citizenship rights” (p 148). So while Room (1991) had defined
social exclusion in relation to social rights and the inability of ‘citizens’ to
secure these social rights, for Tricard social exclusion refers to:
... processes and situations by which persons or groups tend to
be separated or held at a distance from ordinary social exchange
or positions which promote or allow integration or ‘insertion’ –
that is,from participation in institutions or from access to rights,
services or resources which imply full membership of society.
(Tricard, 1991, p 2)
The relational dynamics between housing and social exclusion have
recently been explored by Lee and Murie (1997) who seek to show “the
way in which the housing system forms part of the process through
which poverty and deprivation arises and is experienced”(p 4). Somerville
(1998), in applying the theory of social exclusion to housing processes,
explores the themes of housing production, housing tenure, residential
segregation, mobility and processes associated with homelessness and
leaving home. He seeks to show “how housing processes cut across the
different social levels (labour process, social reproduction and ideology),
how they reflect prevailing patterns of social exclusion,and how they can
mitigate or reinforce those patterns” (p 761). Anderson (1999), however,
argues that debates linking housing and social exclusion have tended to
“neglect a significant group of people who have no accommodation, or
have shelter which is much less secure than council housing – single
homeless people” (p 157). Yet, Pleace (1998) argues that the concept of
social exclusion offers the opportunity to reconceptualise single
homelessness and rough sleeping. He states that “‘homelessness’ does not
actually exist as a discrete social problem” (p 50). Single homelessness is
best seen as an outcome of processes of social exclusion, particularly “the
inability of a section of the socially excluded population to get access to
welfare services and social housing” (p 50). He sees the recent policy
initiatives around resettlement and inclusion for single homeless people
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
40
Homelessness
(for example, the Rough Sleepers Initiative) as a “development of the
relationship between the understanding of single homelessness and the
concept of ‘social exclusion’” (p 51).
This chapter will argue, however, that while recent policy initiatives
have indeed brought the issues of rough sleeping and single homelessness
back onto the agenda it has been in the context of the promotion of a
‘productivist’rather than a redistributive social policy agenda,emphasising
the active rather than the passive citizen, with labour market insertion
the key to inclusion (Levitas, 1998). These themes are encapsulated in
the 1994 White Paper of the European Union, European social policy – A
way forward for the Union:
... it is clear that there needs to be a move away from more
passive income maintenance measures towards active labour
market measures designed to ensure the economic and social
integration of all people. This means giving a top priority to
employment,securing new links between employment and social
policies by developing a ‘trampoline’ safety net, and recognising
that those who are not in the labour market also have a useful
role to play in society.... (European Commission, 1994, p 34-5)
As Esping-Andersen (1996) argues,“the idea is to redirect social policy
from its current bias in favour of passive income maintenance towards
active labour market programmes that ‘put people back to work’, help
households harmonise work and family obligations, and train the
population in the kinds of skills that post-industrial society demands” (p
3). The promotion of the active citizen is now said to be an essential
element of the enterprise culture and the entrepreneurial, competitive
city. It signifies the emergence of an alternative mode of integration to
that maintained and supported through the post-war era of Keynesian
welfare capitalism. The dimensions of citizenship, social exclusion and
homelessness during this period will now be explored to highlight the
contingent and temporally specific nature of citizenship, social rights and
integration.
Homelessness: a thing of the past
A mode of integration in any phase of capitalist development emerges
through the relationship between the state, the family, the individual and
the institutional framework. Its sustainability depends on its resonance
41
with broader public and ontological narratives, that is, narratives which
are attached to cultural and institutional formations larger than the single
individual,and“personal narratives rooted in experience”(Sommers,1994,
p 619). The narratives encapsulated within the institutions of the postwar
welfare state provide an insight into the nature of the webs of
relationality within a mode of inclusion and their cultural and temporal
specificity. The economic and political context was the promotion of
Keynesian welfare capitalism organised around mass production and mass
consumption of capital goods, within a largely national context. The
welfare consensus emphasised an explicit commitment to state intervention
through universal access to direct public provision of welfare benefits. It
accepted an extended role for the state in economic and social policy and
implicitly guaranteed social rights of citizenship for the whole population
as a right. The discourse was that the state would ensure all citizens
enjoyed a certain minimum standard of life and economic security as a
matter of right. The mass consuming, mass producing, wage-earning
society of the Fordist era was supported by a mode of integration
encompassing a commitment to Keynesian capitalism,universal citizenship
and collectively minimised individual risk, in that the state was seen as
the primary guarantor against the vagaries and uncertainties of everyday
life. Radical class struggle faded from political discourse and, according
to Bowles and Gintis,“the language of liberal democracy, the lexicon of
rights,was ...installed as the nearly universal means of political discourse”
(Bowles and Gintis,1982,p 64). The boundaries of social rights,however,
were constructed within a specific narrative and that narrative reflected
the privileged status of the white, male working class and the “partial
citizenship”of women and black men (Kennett,1998). While the Fordist
welfare state linked the interests of capital and labour in a programme of
full employment and social welfare it also involved the interplay of forms
of social power other than class, such as racism and patriarchy (Williams,
1994). Thus the welfare settlement of the post-war period was a product
of the “interrelation between capitalism, patriarchy and imperialism”
(Williams, 1994, p 61).
In Britain the ethos of egalitarianism prevailed and the trends were
towards decreasing social inequality and the gradual inclusion of previously
excluded or marginal populations. On the new housing estates the move
was to a more fragmented, home-centred culture as rising working-class
living standards started to establish themselves. This was a period in
which growing middle-class affluence enabled the further development
of home-owning suburbia, while the ‘estate’ provided mass housing for
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
42
Homelessness
the‘respectable’working class. The Fordist regime could be characterised
in terms of housing as a social right, universalism of subsidies and tax
breaks and as an era of mass suburbanisation and direct state housing
provision (Florida and Feldman, 1988). Personal disposable incomes
rose,the rate of inflation was modest,the scale of unemployment was low
and the majority of the population were well-housed. However, for the
poor to be incorporated into the home ideal they had to meet certain
criteria relating to personal decency and the acceptance of established
behavioural norms. Issues relating to class, race, gender and sexuality
were major considerations in how home was defined and who was able
to gain access. Women and people from ethnic minorities were unlikely
to have equal access to the capital through which the suburban home
ideal could be achieved, and were likely to be denied access to local
authority waiting lists (Rex and Moore, 1967; Castles and Kosack, 1973;
Rex and Tomlinson, 1979; Henderson and Karn, 1987; Smith, 1989).
Nevertheless, the provision of state housing served to justify the
institutions of the Keynesian welfare state and support the hegemony of
the post-war settlement at the micro level. In Britain in 1960 7.5 million
people were living in poverty (Coates and Silburn, 1970) and there were
2,558 households (10,270 by 1976) in temporary accommodation (Burke,
1981). Yet for the majority of individuals the ideological commitment to
equality and welfarism was compatible with the ‘lived’ experience at the
micro level. As Byrne points out:
... in the Fordist era, good council housing was the locale in
space of an employed working class and movement into it from
poor council housing and out of it to the cheaper end of the
owner-occupied system was simply an incremental matter.
(Byrne, 1997, p 33)
The prevailing ideology was one in which income and housing need had
been met and poverty and homelessness involved a small number of people
on the margins of society. The homeless population, under the 1948
National Assistance Act, was to be the object of welfare services rather
than housing departments. This served to construct and maintain the
undeserving status of the homeless and reinforce the individual,
pathological model of homelessness. The way in which the homelessness
problem was constructed, “which stressed the deviant characteristics of
homeless individuals rather than issues such as housing shortage” (Neale,
1997, p 37), contributed to a policy agenda which served to render the
43
homeless population ‘invisible’ and perpetuate the logic of the public
narrative that this was an era in which poverty and homelessness were a
thing of the past.
Redrawing the boundaries of citizenship:
risk, insecurity and the active citizen
The last 25 years have been a period of substantial flux and change during
which the landscape of capitalism has been reshaped: economic, political,
social and cultural activities are said to have created a new set of conditions
from the past. According to Jessop selective narratives of past events
generate distinctive accounts of current economic, social and political
problems, from which emerge “a limited but widely accepted set of
diagnoses and prescriptions for the economic and political difficulties
now confronting nations,regions,and cities and their populations”(Jessop,
1996,p 3). The redrawing of the boundaries of citizenship can be seen in
this context. Allen argues that “discourses of citizenship are shaped not
only by the material and political realities which they (selectively) reflect,
but also by the way they seek to provide justificatory explanations for,
and principles to guide, the social activities which organise that reality”
(1998).
As economic conditions deteriorated during the mid-1970s, the postwar
consensus began to crumble. The institutional arrangements of the
post-war period which had supported specific configurations of citizenship
were increasingly perceived as barriers and impediments to the deploying
of new methods of production and consumption. In Britain, the erosion
of the post-war consensus occurred in the context of rampant inflation
in the wake of the oil crisis, and involved the acceptance by the 1976
Labour government of the International Monetary Fund’s prescription
of income restraint, cuts in social expenditure and, ultimately, the
abandonment of Keynesian policy. By the 1980s a major structural reform
of the welfare state was underway linked to an alternative economic
doctrine, philosophical tradition and an anti-collectivist orthodoxy.
Economic individualism and supply-side economics, as advocated by
Hayek and Friedman,provided the framework for the policy formulations
of monetarism, and the rhetoric for the devaluation of the welfare state
portraying it as a barrier to economic recovery and the road to ‘serfdom’
and economic ruin. Writers such as Nozick (1974) influenced the notions
of the minimal state and the atomistic individualism. The critique and
devaluation of state intervention incorporated all three elements as
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
44
Homelessness
governments sought to reintroduce market processes into the welfare
state and public sector. Connotations of a bloated, self-interested and
inefficient bureaucracy were introduced and supported by‘public choice’
theorists (Niskanen,1971,1973) with recommendations for the reduction
in the size and power of government agencies and the introduction of
competition and market forces into welfare provision. By the end of the
1980s there was an explicit policy emphasis on market-based approaches
to the delivery of services, the role of local authorities became more
focused on that of enabler rather than provider, and the ‘desirability’ and
increased role for voluntary and private agencies in social policy was
enhanced. As Dean argues,“the burden of welfare provision was shifted
from the state to the informal, voluntary and commercial sectors and the
character of welfare transactions became, if not literally private, more
akin to contractual relations in the marketplace” (Dean, 1999, p 218).
These developments were accompanied by the erosion of the relative
predictability and certainty of the mass producing,mass consuming Fordist
era of welfare capitalism, and a change in the balance of class relations
reflecting the changing relative status of different groups and their
relationship with the state.The Fordist industrial order of stability in which
the life cycle of the “working-class [male] masses was predictable and,
mobility wise, generally flat” (Esping-Andersen, 1993, p 227) has come to
an end. The decline of Fordism has been accompanied by the rise in both
professional and lower-end service occupations, changes in class
composition and a recrystallisation of class forces, resulting in a declining
overall standard of living for large sections of the population and a reduction
in the number and quality of employment opportunities. As discussed in
the last chapter, the stable, predictable patterns of the conventional Fordist
life cycle, underpinned by the institutions of the welfare state, have given
way to greater variety and less predictability. Thus,in contrast to the postwar
period, there seems to be increasing insecurity not only in the labour
market but in many aspects of day-to-day life. Changes in the structure of
employment combined with the reorientation of the welfare state are said
to have created an arena of risk,insecurity and uncertainty for the majority
of the population,not just the poor (Forrest and Kennett,1997),in contrast
to the previous mode of inclusion.
According to Beck (1992) insecurity has emerged in the context of
the increasing individualisation and autonomisation of contemporary
society,and Giddens (1991,1992,1994) argues that in this era of reflexive
modernity “the concept of risk becomes fundamental to the way both
lay actors and technical specialists organise the social world” (Giddens,
45
1991, p 3). Within this risk culture individuals are constantly required to
assess their risk status and make decisions regarding potential risk“through
contact with expert knowledge ...”(Giddens,1991,p 5). Life-style choice,
life-planning and the reflexivity of the self are central to the construction
of an individual’s identity in this risk environment and,in turn,are linked
to the notion of ontological (or emotional) security (Giddens, 1991).
Increasingly,the social relations of everyday life have come to be associated
with complexity and uncertainty, independence and individualism. The
‘collective management’ of uncertainty during the post-war period has
given way to what Marris refers to as “the competitive management of
uncertainty” (Marris, 1996, p 14) where strategies for containing
uncertainty and risks must be developed individually. Thus, there has
been a transfer of risk from the state and the employer to the family and
the individual and a redrawing of the boundaries of citizenship (Kennett,
1998). This reorientation is an indication that the nature and significance
of the social relations of welfare change over time as does the relationship
between the individual and the state. This relationship is encapsulated in
the institutions and ideology of the welfare state through which the
inclusionary/exclusionary boundaries of citizenship are articulated and
perpetuated.
This restructuring of relations between state and civil society and the
establishment of new forms of intervention were most evident during
the Conservative era in Britain when there was the most profound shift
towards‘welfare pluralism’(Dean,1999). However,following their election
in May 1997,the Blair government has pursued similar strategies indicating
according to Marquand (1998) that New Labour “has turned its back on
Keynes and Beveridge” (quoted in Dean, 1999, p 221). According to
Dean (1999) “New Labour has combined the economic liberalism of the
Thatcher/Reagan orthodoxy, with something approaching socially
conservative Christian democracy” (p 221). Key policies of New Labour
have been Welfare-to-Work and the New Deal. Initially introduced to
overcome the problem of unemployment among young people the scope
of the New Deal has been extended to include, for example, lone parents
and those over 25. According to King and Wickham-Jones:
The policy recast in fundamental fashion Labour’s strategy to
tackle poverty: previously, Labour administrations and social
democrative thinkers had placed much weight on amelioration
of general destitution through State-directed public spending
programmes. New Labour, by contrast, emphasised paid work,
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
46
Homelessness
seemingly to the exclusion of other approaches. (King and
Wickham-Jones, 1999, p 271)
They go on to point out that in contrast to the commitment to universal
and unconditional social rights which was central to Marshall’s conception
of citizenship and to the Labour Party’s welfare agenda between 1945
and 1992, conditionality, compulsion and coercion appear to be the
hallmarks of the policies of the Blair administration. Sanctions and
penalties, such as loss of benefit, will fall on those who either refuse to
participate or who are unable to finish the New Deal programmes. The
implications of this move towards conditional citizenship are as yet unclear.
King andWickham-Jones (1999) point out the uncertainty in calculating
the numbers denied benefit because ofWelfare-to-Work. The most recent
figure they cite is that of “1,352 individuals who had lost benefit because
of their failure to participate” (p 279). Dean (1999) argues that in the
context of conditional citizenship one outcome might be that “more
citizens will defect from their contract with the State, in the sense that
they will ‘disappear’ into the shadowy world of the informal economy. If
welfare reform does not work with the grain of everyday survival strategies
the result may be more not less social exclusion” (p 232). And similarly,
the emphasis on labour market insertion as the means to social inclusion
fails to take account of the nature and content of employment and the
fact that low pay and casualisation characterise large sectors of the labour
market today.
Drawing on the work of Jessop (1994) Dean argues that “the space
between the individual and the State is itself ‘hollowed out’ as it is
subordinated to economic forces and made increasingly conditional on
the citizen’s individual ‘stake’ in the economy as a paid worker” (p 225).
While recognising the importance of the political and cultural dimensions
to inclusion and exclusion Madanipour argues that:
... the main form of inclusion is access to resources, which is
normally secured through employment.... Marginalization and
long-term exclusion from the labour market lead to an absence
of opportunity for production and consumption, which can in
turn lead to acute forms of social exclusion. (Madanipour,1998,
p 77)
However,participation in the labour market does not necessarily guarantee
inclusion, particularly because of inadequate access to resources and the
47
nature of employment available. For example, a recent study on the
distribution of poor households within the countries of the European
Union indicated that 35% of poor households were classified as working
poor (EAPN, 1997). As Levitas (1998) argues, labour market insertion as
the key to inclusion serves only to obscure the differential access to
resources which exists within the working population not just between
those within the labour market and those outside. This approach obscures
the complex interplay of processes which structure opportunities
particularly in relation to gender and ethnicity (issues discussed further
in Chapters Five and Six of this volume) and which enable people to
access and maintain a reasonable standard of life. Evidence suggests that
the restructuring of capitalism combined with a renegotiation of the
context of citizenship rights has been accompanied by a shift towards
increasing inequality,social exclusion and homelessness,particularly among
young people, women and people from ethnic minorities who are
increasingly likely to enter into the sphere of the state and be reliant on
more basic and coercive forms of social assistance.
Homelessness and the entrepreneurial city
Homelessness is not a new or transient phenomenon, but recently has
emerged as a problem affecting different kinds of areas from inner cities
to rural areas, and has involved a widening spectrum of the population.
A recent Survey of English Housing (1995/96) reported on people’s
experiences of homelessness. Six per cent of respondents reported that
they had some experience of homelessness in the last 10 years. Of those
aged 16-24 20% said that they had been homeless during the same time
period and among lone parents with dependent children the figure was
29% (Green et al, 1997). Although the number of statutory homeless has
continued to drop from its peak of 178,867 households in 1991, in 1996
it still represented 131,139 households in Great Britain, higher than any
year before 1989 (Wilcox, 1997). Nor is homelessness among single
women the ‘hidden’ homelessness of the past. More women can be seen
sleeping rough and, particularly among younger women, there is likely
to be greater use made of night shelters, with a rise of 70% in 1995 of
women under 21 years old using winter shelters.
Hopper (1991) recognises novel elements of the phenomenon in terms
of the scale, the heterogeneity of the homeless population in terms of
gender, race and age, and the episodic nature of homelessness. While for
Marcuse contemporary homelessness is distinguishable as:
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
48
Homelessness
... large-scale, permanent and independent of the short-term
business cycle,a combination never before existing in an advanced
industrial society. It represents the inability of the market and
the unwillingness of the state to care for the most basic needs of
a significant segment of the population ... and their consequent
complete exclusion from or suppression in the spatial fabric of a
technologically and economically advanced city. It may thus
fairly be called ‘advanced homelessness’. (Marcuse, 1993, p 359)
As alternative narratives have converged and combined in the
contemporary city, so “economic, political and cultural spaces have been
opened up, resulting in a restructuring of relations of inclusion and
exclusion, of centrality and marginality” (Mommas, 1996, p 196). For
Jessop the “intersection of these diverse economic, political and sociocultural
narratives” (Jessop, 1996, p 4) has crystallised in the context of
the‘entrepreneurial’city where the processes through which homelessness
occurs and the policy context in which it is maintained are most stark.
The rhetoric of competitiveness,partnership and cohesion has dominated
the discourse at both national and European Union levels. According to
Oatley (1998) urban policy in Britain“has shifted from a welfare approach
dominated by social expenditure to support deprived groups in depressed
areas (1969–1979) to entrepreneurialism aimed at generating wealth and
stimulating economic development” (p 203). Oatley lists a range of
initiatives introduced during the 1990s, from City Challenge in 1991 to
the Single Regeneration Budget which has become the central plank in
the government’s regeneration policy,which he claims marked“a paradigm
shift”. According to Oatley “These initiatives radically altered the way in
which policies aimed at tackling problems or urban decline and social
disadvantage were formulated,funded and administered”(1998,p x). While
there is nothing new about characterising the city as the site of
entrepreneurialism, what has been radically altered is the intensification
of competition between urban regions for resources, jobs and capital and
the policy agenda which has accompanied this intensification. With the
growing importance of international competition in the global marketplace,
which had played a fairly minor role in the Fordist 1950s and
1960s,major cities act as centres of economic,social,cultural and structural
change as the arena is created in which cities promote innovation and
entrepreneurialism in order to secure competitive advantage. The
‘managerialism’ of the 1960s has given way to what Harvey (1989) refers
to as ‘entrepreneurial’ urban governance, thus facilitating the
49
transformation from the rigidity of Fordist production systems supported
by Keynesian state welfarism,to a more geographically diverse and flexible
form of accumulation. For Harvey, the basis of this new urban
entrepreneurialism:
...rests ...on a public private partnership focussing on investment
and economic development with the speculative construction of
place rather than the amelioration of conditions within a
particular territory as its immediate (though by no means
exclusive) political and economic goal. (Harvey, 1989, p 16)
In both social and urban policy the emphasis is on reducing public services
and stressing the role of agencies alternative to local government, and the
need for a mix of private, not-for-profit and voluntary inputs. As larger
cities endeavour to become transnationally important financial and control
centres, urban initiatives concentrate on establishing special corporations
for economic promotion in close cooperation with the private sector,
thus incorporating elements of deregulation, privatisation and public–
private partnership (Fainstein,1991;Krätke and Schmoll,1991). So while
in the 1960s urban problems of poverty and inner-city decay were met
by welfare initiatives and redevelopment, more recently the emphasis has
been on growth based on market-oriented solutions and‘wealth creation,’
with the consequences that:
... the inner city ... becomes a microcosm for growth strategies
based on financial services and property development, on
deregulation and on polarised labour markets characterised by
divergent skills and growing social inequality. (Hill, 1994, p 166)
The affluent consumer and powerful corporations have become the object
of urban policy and have, according to Harvey (1989), been subsidised at
the expense of local collective consumption for the working class and
the poor. The‘public interest’has become subsumed under private interests
(Marcuse, 1993), increasing social division as well as reinforcing spatial
divisions of consumption. The refurbishment of urban space and emphasis
on cultural renewal facilitates gentrification processes and the promotion
of consumption palaces, festivals and other leisure and cultural facilities
as civic boosterism and place identity have become the“favoured remedies
for ailing urban economies” (Harvey, 1989, p 28). As Griffiths (1998)
argues “Entrepreneurialism is founded on speculation and risk-taking;
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
50
Homelessness
competition by its very nature, throws up winners and losers” (p 43). For
the displaced and the poor the ‘image of affluence’ is likely to offer, at
best,the opportunity of low paid, insecure employment and, at worst, the
prospect of locating a pitch from which to panhandle for a few hours
(seeWinchester andWhite, 1988) before returning to the excluded space
of the “multiply divided city” (Marcuse, 1993). Zero tolerance and
coercion have become the response to destitution and poverty. Prestigious
office locations install deterrents such as sprinkler systems to prevent the
homeless from sleeping in their doorways, at the same time as major
companies enter into a range of partnerships with voluntary organisations
in the spirit of“new philanthropy”(Housing,1991) for the young homeless.
Carlen argues that“at the end of the twentieth century in England the
management of homelessness is not merely about housing scarcity but
has also become a site of struggle over social change” (Carlen, 1996, p
10). Agencies seeking to work with the homeless have themselves become
embedded in the entrepreneurialism of the city. With the emphasis on
civic boosterism,according to Ruddick (1996),through their involvement
with local growth coalitions in the spirit of public–private partnerships,
service providers have, to some extent, become the intermediary in the
production of a new social urban space in that they “manage the tensions
between the visible impoverishment and global cities” (Ruddick, 1996, p
185).
Hopper (1991), Marcuse (1993) and Carlen (1996) have all pointed to
the changing role of government and the nature of the homelessness
industry who construct and manage the problem within the narratives of
the entrepreneurial city. For Carlen “agency-maintained homelessness”
occurs through:
...the bureaucratic or professional procedures for the governance
of homelessness which deter people from defining themselves as
homeless; deny that homelessness claims are justifiable under
the legislation; or discipline the officially-defined homeless into
rapidly withdrawing their claims to homeless status. (Carlen,
1996, p 59)
As well as the practices engaged in by local authorities, she highlights the
“quality assurance” and “exclusionary categorisation and referral
procedures”(p 59) utilised by hostel staff in the selection and management
of hostel populations. Hopper (1991) argues that agencies providing
services are in fact powerful interest groups in themselves and they
51
manipulate definitions of the problem and change their policies in ways
that are most consistent with their continued existence. In Britain, as the
providing state has become the enabling state, so attempts have been
made to introduce market-based approaches to the delivery of local
services. Thus local authorities have developed a strategic role to facilitate
services and provision for the homeless through housing associations and
non-profit organisations by distributing funds for which organisations
have to compete. As service providers“they are the intermediaries through
which flow the resources of relief to the homeless, and the people who
outline how we should respond to this social phenomena” (Robertson,
1991,p 142). The‘professional’providers,through the bureaucratic process
of fund-getting, supply information that appeals to the funding source,
encouraging the development of specialised programmes which catalogue
the homeless according to a range of individual vulnerabilities. The
‘homeless problem’thus becomes defined not in terms of structural causes,
but as merely an aggregate of social ‘characteristics’ symptomatic of
underlying causes. The homeless population is thus reclassified as provision
fragments and funding focuses on the pathological and individual
characteristics of the homeless (that is, alcoholic, mentally ill) to which
specialised professional skills are matched to specialised populations. It is
the perceived need which becomes the social problem to which specialised
caretakers can respond. Not only do these developments influence the
labelling and stigma attached to being homeless, but also affect how the
homeless person perceives themselves. In order to negotiate the
burgeoning networks of agencies the homeless person must (re)classify
her/himself into an appropriate category of perceived need.
These processes are particularly apparent in one major government
initiative to combat homelessness which has been the Rough Sleepers
Initiative (RSI). First initiated in London it is credited with reducing the
numbers of central London rough sleepers from 1,000-2,000 in 1990 to
around 270 in May 1995. (DoE, 1995). This was accompanied by the
Department of Health’s Homeless Mentally Ill Initiative (HMII). The
government committed £96m for the first phase of the RSI (1990-93) to
organise direct access accommodation, advice, outreach work and some
permanent housing association lettings. However,the 1995 Consultation
Paper reported that:
...people continue to sleep out at several main sites,for example,
the Strand and the Bullring at Waterloo. Their evident plight is
distressing not only for them but also for those who live, work
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
52
Homelessness
and visit the centre of the capital, and it is frustrating for those
who seek to promote London as a world-class centre for business
and tourism. (DoE, 1995, p 4)
The initiative was extended for a further period and a greater emphasis
was placed on“those sleeping rough or with a clear history of sleeping rough”
(DoE, 1995, p 7; emphasis original). By March 1996 £182m had been
spent on the initiative.
In 1995 the RSI model was extended outside London and local
authorities were required to “quantify the extent of rough sleeping in
their area,and if it existed,to examine its causes”(DoE,1996,p 21). Only
Bristol was able to ‘prove’ and document to the satisfaction of the DoE
that rough sleeping was a significant problem and they were awarded
£7.5m in 1996. More recently the RSI has been extended to Brighton,
following their successful bid for capital and revenue funding. It could be
argued that the distribution of funds has been based on a local authority’s
expertise in formulating a bid rather than real need. In addition, this
major focus on RSI has contributed to the perception of homelessness as
rooflessness and funding has not been directed towards those people living
in insecure and inappropriate condition. The emphasis on‘rough sleepers’
has been perpetuated by the Social Exclusion Unit, and the Unit has set
itself the target of reducing rough sleepers by two thirds by 2002 (Social
Exclusion Unit, 1998). However, according to the Homeless Network:
...it is our contention that without either a continuing supply of
new accommodation, or a significant reduction in the flow of
newly homeless people into London, we are likely to see the
numbers of street homeless people increase sharply over the next
18 months. (quoted in Social Exclusion Unit, 1998, p 12)
A recent report has indicated that while for many homeless people (636
or 13%) the resettlement process had had ‘positive outcomes’ in that the
individuals involved were in non-RSI housing (Dane, 1998), for others
(787 or 16%) the tenancy was considered to have been unsuccessful with
the vast majority ending in abandonment. As one ex-tenant states“When
I left I’d just had enough. It was just a big relief to walk out that door”.
For another:
“... it was like living a shell hermit-like existence. I was lonely,
didn’t have the money to travel into the East End I knew,couldn’t
53
live on my benefits. My referral agency stopped visiting me
after six months and my housing association wasn’t interested. I
knew after six weeks that there was no future in that place for
me”. (quoted in Dane, 1998, p 15)
Clearly, there could be a number of explanations for these developments.
They could be seen as the result of ineffective allocation, management
and monitoring strategies adopted by the agencies involved. They could
be seen as an example of the contradictions between the images and
aspirations of the homeless themselves, and the political and policy
narratives instituted by governments, for example, the assertion that “a
place in a hostel has to be the start of a process that leads back to the
things most of us take for granted” (Social Exclusion Unit, 1998, p 2).
They could also be seen as an example of a policy agenda in which the
diverse needs, expectations and aspirations of homeless people are
subordinated to or subsumed within a strategy of stimulating wealth
creation and enhancing competition.
Conclusion
In the context of growing inequality and insecurity, labour market
participation has become the panacea for an inclusive society. While the
rhetoric of social exclusion has permeated the policy discourse it is not
the comprehensive and dynamic approach offered by Berghman (1995),
which looks beyond the experiences of work and income which has
been adopted. It is a more narrowly applied definition which is
encapsulated in the emerging model of citizenship and welfare. There
has been a changing balance between rights and responsibilities and
between the state and civil society. Work appears to be replacing welfare
while social rights focus on contractual relations and coercion.
The policy responses to increasingly visible destitution and homelessness
in British cities are an indication of the changes mentioned above. The
Social Exclusion Unit has shown little concern with tackling the
multifarious processes through which people find themselves homeless.
Instead, as cities seek to compete in the international arena, the image of
people sleeping in the streets contradicts and undermines the strategies
of competitiveness, partnership and cohesion. Thus, it is those sleeping
rough who have become the object of a narrowly defined set of policy
solutions aimed mainly at restoring legitimacy in the entrepreneurial
city. The definition of inclusion perpetuated by the government combined
Homelessness, citizenship and social exclusion
54
Homelessness
with the reformulation of welfare and citizenship rights will do little to
stem the flow of homeless people, nor to support and maintain those
attempting to reconstruct a life off the street. This unidimensional
construction of social rights and emphasis on entrepreneuralism and
competitiveness may benefit some. However,it is unlikely to be a context
for developing a policy and institutional framework through which
homeless people can achieve forms of social inclusion which are both
appropriate and sustainable. As Power et al (1999) argue, factors
perpetuating the homeless life-style might begin with lack of
accommodation but there are other interrelated and complex factors,
such as marginalisation, insecurity, identification, vulnerability, lack of
choice, isolation and lack of income/employment. The narrow
interpretation of social exclusion evident in current policy does not
connect with the multidimensional nature of contemporary homelessness,
nor utilise the existing social networks and (limited) resources which
exist among the homeless themselves. Within the current mode of
integration there is little likelihood of addressing the homelessness issue
and it would appear that at the end of the 20th century the most extreme
manifestations of social exclusion – homelessness – will continue to be a
feature of British cities.
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6.2 Social Exclusion
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3. The meanings of social exclusion
‘“Exclusion” is not a concept rooted in the social sciences, but an
empty box given by the French state to the social sciences in the
late 1980s as a subject to study… The empty box has since been
filled with a huge number of pages, treatises and pictures, in
varying degrees academic, popular, original and valuable’. (Murard,
2002:41)
Given its origins and rapid spread across nation states and global regions,
it is perhaps inevitable that the phrase ‘social exclusion’ is used in
different ways at different times reflecting different institutional, political,
historical and geographic contexts. In this section we describe some of the
meanings attaching to the concept of social exclusion and consider the
relationship between these meanings and policy and actions aimed at
addressing social exclusion.
3.1 Constituent elements of the concept of social exclusion
Definitions of ‘social exclusion’ variously emphasise:
• The groups at risk of being excluded: for example, Lenoir (1974)
quoted in Silver (1994:532) wrote: ‘the excluded made up onetenth
of the French population: the mentally and the physically
handicapped, suicidal people, aged invalids, abused children, drug
addicts, delinquents, single parents, multi-problem households,
marginal, asocial persons, and other social misfits’
• What people are excluded from: for example, Silver (1994: 541)
notes that: ‘the literature says people may be excluded from: a
livelihood; secure, permanent employment; earnings; property,
credit or land; housing; the minimal or prevailing consumption
level; education, skills and cultural capital; the benefits provided by
the welfare state; citizenship and equality before the law;
participation in the democratic process; public goods; the nation or
the dominant race; the family and sociability; humane treatment,
respect, personal fulfilment, understanding’
• The problems associated with social exclusion: for example,
England’s Social Exclusion Unit (SEU’s) defined social exclusion as:
‘a shorthand for what can happen when people or areas suffer from
a combination of linked problems such as unemployment, poor
skills, low incomes, poor housing, high crime environments, bad
health and family breakdown’(SEU, 1997)
• The processes driving exclusion and the levels at which they
operate: for example, Estivill (2003:19) argues that: ‘Social
exclusion must … be understood as an accumulation of confluent
processes with successive ruptures arising from the heart of the
economy, politics and society, which gradually distances and places
persons, groups, communities and territories in a position of
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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inferiority in relation to centres of power, resources and prevailing
values’
• The agents and actors involved: for example, Mike Rann, Prime
Minister of South Australia commented that: ‘social exclusion is
created by harsh and unjust economic conditions compounded by
difficult social environments and made worse by insensitive
government policies and government neglect…’ (South Australian
Labor Party, 2002).
Importantly, the differing emphasis on one or more of these facets of
‘exclusion’ has different implications for policy/action to address exclusion.
A selection of definitions of social exclusion is provided in Appendix 1.
These definitions are drawn from academic literature, reports from
governmental and intergovernmental agencies; and from the ILO country
case studies. Whilst not exhaustive they do illustrate both recurring
elements and subtle differences in the ways in which social exclusion is
defined.
Much of the ‘common ground’ apparent across these definitions can be
attributed to Graham Room (1992, 1995), who was instrumental in
establishing social exclusion as a multidimensional, dynamic and relational
concept. These three constituent elements deliver insights into the nature,
consequences and implications of unequal power relationships, and point
to the important conceptual contribution that ‘social exclusion’ can make
to understanding and addressing social and health inequalities.
Multidimensional: Room’s conceptual shift from poverty, as primarily
concerned with income and expenditure, to social exclusion, which he
argues implies multidimensional disadvantage, has since been expanded
upon in the literature. Definitions now typically refer variously to different
dimensions (social, economic, cultural, political) and different levels
(micro e.g. individual, household; meso e.g. neighbourhoods; and macro
e.g. nation state and global regions) along which a social
exclusion/inclusion continuum is seen to operate.
The consensus that social exclusion is a multidimensional phenomenon is
present both in the English and the Spanish literature. García Roca (1998)
for example, identifies three dimensions to social exclusion: a structural or
economic dimension referring to a lack of material resources associated
with exclusion from the labour market; a contextual or social dimension,
expressed in a lack of integration into family life and the community; and
a subjective or personal dimension expressed in an erosion of self worth
and increased sense of anomie. Kronauer (1998) argues that the concept
of social exclusion derived from France needs to be combined with
elements of the concept of the “underclass” as used in the United States
of America (USA) and the UK (Murray,1990), to differentiate it from
poverty. According to Kronauer, social exclusion arises when a marginal
economic position and social isolation combine. In this context he argues
social exclusion is a product of people’s relationships with: the labour
market, consumption, institutions, social relationships, culture and
geographical space. Other relevant arguments have been developed by
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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Gaviria, Laparra and Aguilar (1995), Minujin (1998), Cabrera (2000) and
Velásquez (2001), based on Tezanos (1999).
Dynamic: This refers to the changing and interactive nature of social
exclusion along different dimensions and at different levels over time.
Some, including Room (1995) and Barnes (2005), contend that
persistence over time is an integral aspect of social exclusion, while others
(Levitas et al., 2007) have argued that judgements about the importance
of persistence are neither theoretically nor empirically based. Most
definitions recognise that the experience of social exclusion is unequally
distributed across socio-economic and ethnic groups and that it is not a
static state experienced by the same social groups at all times in all
places. The experience and consequences of stigmatising conditions such
as HIV/AIDS, for example, differ profoundly between South Africa and the
USA and between ethnic groups in the USA. Additionally, rapid structural
transformations and in particular the impact of globalisation are altering
the contours of exclusion and inclusion within and between nation states
and global regions.
In elaborating on the dynamics of social exclusion Castel (1997) argues
that the causal relationship between poverty and disadvantage and wider
inequalities must be recognised: the linkage between the experience of
those at the margins of society and the fundamental working of societies.
To do this, he suggests, ‘exclusion’ should be replaced by ‘disaffiliation’
because “Exclusion is immobile. It designates a state or, rather, privation
states […] To speak of disaffiliation, on the other hand, is not to confirm a
rupture, but to delay a journey. The concept belongs to the same
semantic field as dissociation, disqualification or social invalidation.
Disaffiliated, dissociated, invalidated, disqualified, with relationship to
what? This is in fact the problem. [...]To look for the relationships
between the situation in which one is and that from which one comes, not
to autonomise the extreme situations but to link what happens in the
peripheries and what arrives to the centre’ (Castel, 1997:16-17). It is
apparent that Castel’s argument refers not only to the dynamism of the
social exclusion concept but also to its relationality.
Relational: This refers to the critical conceptual shift from the focus on
distributional outcomes within a poverty discourse (i.e. the lack of
resources at the disposal of individuals, households and/or wider social
groups) to a focus on social relationships. However, there are two linked
but importantly different strands to this argument.
One focuses on the idea that social exclusion involves the rupture of
relationships between people and the society in which they live. This is
vividly described by Room who notes that the concept is referring to:
“people who are suffering such a degree of multidimensional
disadvantage, of such duration, and reinforced by such material and
cultural degradation of the neighbourhoods in which they live that
their relational links with the wider society are ruptured to a degree
irreversible. This is the core of the concept (..) inadequate social
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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participation, lack of social protection, lack of social integration and
lack of power."
In his writing on social exclusion and capability deprivation Amartya Sen
adopts a related perspective arguing that social exclusion focuses
attention on to the disadvantages arising from being excluded from
shared opportunities enjoyed by others. Looking back to classical Greece,
Sen (2000:4) writes: ‘In this Aristolelian perspective, an impoverished life
is one without freedom to undertake important activities that a person has
reason to choose’. He draws parallels with the eighteenth century writings
of Adam Smith, according to whom: “the (in)ability to appear in public
without shame” is an important deprivation in itself. Indeed, for Sen,
(2000:8):
‘the real importance of the idea of social exclusion lies in
emphasizing the role of relational features in the deprivation of
capability and thus in the experience of poverty’.
A second interpretation of a relational perspective on social exclusion is
that it focuses attention on inequalities as the product of social
relationships that are defined historically by normative systems that
assign social identities and associated power and status to different
individuals, groups, classes, and even States. As in Norbert Elías’ famous
study in the 1960s of the English town given the pseudonym ‘Winston
Parva’, “the exclusion and the stigmatization of those excluded turned out
to be powerful weapons that were used by the old-established residents to
keep their identity, to reaffirm their superiority, to maintain the outsiders
firmly in their place” (Elías, 1998, [1993]:86). This approach to a
relational perspective on exclusion demands a group, rather than an
individual, analysis, that recognizes human interdependence as its
foundation. In Michael Mann's analysis (1986:2), it is to understand the
place that human groups occupy in “social power networks”.
The exercise of power (economic, political, ideological or military) by
human groups in social networks is unequal and it is from here that
hierarchies are derived (Mann, 1986: 4). From this relational perspective,
social reality viewed through the lens of social exclusion is the product of
an unequal balance of power between social groups, nation states and
global regions which contributes to an unequal distribution of goods and
services. For these writers, without the two ingredients of redistribution
and recognition it is not possible to overcome exclusion (Fraser, 1997:18).
For this reason, a relational perspective implies an emancipatory
dimension (involving new less hierarchical social systems), a political
dimension (involving new political actors) and an institutional dimension
(involving new public administrations and materiality of the state) (Fleury,
1998: 13-14).
There are other important differences in the way social exclusion is
conceptualised. For example, it can be understood as a phenomenon
operating in a continuum across society, or as affecting a segment of the
population placed outside mainstream society. Similarly, it may be
conceptualised as a process - a way of explaining power relationships
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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underlying and producing inequalities - or as a state, a way of describing
the most disadvantaged people or social groups, who are assumed to be
‘excluded’ from social systems and relationships. In most definitions this
‘state’ is seen to be associated with (extreme) poverty.
There is also a distinction between schools of thought that emphasise lack
of participation of individuals in society in general and labour markets in
particular and those that identify social exclusion as a lack of access to
rights as a citizen and/or member of particular group, community, society
or country (Curran et al., 2007). The participation approach underpins
much of the European writing on exclusion/inclusion, whereas the rightsbased
approach is more strongly associated with the development
literature (Gore & Figueiredo, 1997). Curran et al. also suggest that the
rights-based approach may be particularly relevant in the context of
mental health.
However, Curran et al. (2007:295) have suggested that ‘in the face of
globalisation and greater international labour mobility, the rights-based
and participation approaches become increasingly difficult to separate’
(2007:295). The definition offered by Levitas et al. (2007:25) illustrates
how both approaches can be integrated: ‘Social exclusion is a complex
and multi-dimensional process. It involves the lack or denial of resources,
rights, goods and services, and the inability to participate in the normal
relationships and activities, available to the majority of people in a
society, whether in economic, social, cultural or political arenas. It affects
both the quality of life of individuals and the equity and cohesion of
society as a whole’.
Burchardt et al.’s (1999) definition emphasises participation: ‘an individual
is socially excluded if he or she does not participate in key activities of the
society in which he or she lives’. This type of definition implies that social
exclusion is relative, applicable to individuals living in a particular society.
It leaves open question of who should decide which activities may be
regarded as ‘key’. This is not only an empirical question, implying the
existence of a measurable inclusion/exclusion threshold according to the
degree of participation in a particular activity, but also a normative one,
involving the choice of key activities (or dimensions of participation
necessary for inclusion) at a specified time and place.
The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) is a strong advocate
of a human rights-based approach to address social exclusion. At a recent
virtual round table facilitated by the UNDP (UNDP, 2007a), it was argued
that translating social exclusion as the UN non discrimination clause
enables the concept to be grounded in international law applicable to the
majority of states, and allows the necessary relationships between ‘duty
bearers’ and ‘claim holders’ to be cultivated. From this perspective, social
exclusion is understood to involve discrimination on the basis of social
attributes and social identity. Marshall (1964) identified three stages in
the development of rights: civil rights, political rights, and social rights.
Since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948, a series of
legally binding international treaties have established human rights
standards which signatories have obligations to respect, protect and fulfil.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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Civil rights include the rights to life, liberty and personal security; the
right to equality before the law; the right to protection from arbitrary
arrest; and the right to religious freedom. Political rights include free
speech, expression, assembly and association, and political participation
and vote. Economic and social rights include the rights to a family, to
education, to health and wellbeing, to social security, to work and fair
remuneration, to form trade unions, and to leisure time. Cultural rights
include the right to benefits of culture, to the ownership of indigenous
lands, rituals and shared practices, and the right to speak one’s language
and to ‘mother tongue’ education. Todd Landman (2006), in work
commissioned by the UK’s Department for International Development
(DFID), argues that social exclusion is a form of rights violation if
systematic disproportionality of treatment of people across social,
economic and political spheres can be demonstrated. He further argues
that human rights deficits can increase people’s vulnerability to exclusion.
Another key conceptual issue in the literature on social exclusion is that of
agency. This is usually understood as a question of “who is doing the
excluding?” (Atkinson, 1998) and is highly contested in the literature with
attention having been directed at the causal role of ‘agents’ ranging from
globalisation, multi-nationals and international agencies such as the World
Bank and IMF, through nation states and their institutions, to excluded
individuals/groups themselves. There appears to have been relatively
little empirical research on the potential for agency amongst groups most
severely affected by exclusionary processes. However, there is a rich
literature from civil society and other sources demonstrating that rather
than passive victims such groups can actively mould and/or resist
exclusionary processes and their social, economic and health
consequences. Importantly, this literature also gives more emphasis to
the role of public services in addressing social exclusion and to issues of
social justice and social solidarity than is apparent in much of the
academic literature (Popay et al. 2008).
3.2 Making sense of diverse definitions of social exclusion
The discussion so far suggests that whilst it is possible to identify common
constituent elements in the meanings attaching to the concept of social
exclusion there are also important differences in emphasis and tone.
Frameworks developed by Hilary Silver (1994), Ruth Levitas (1998; 2005)
and Jo Beall (2002) have made important contributions to understanding
the ideological and political roots of these differences and illuminating the
implications for policy/action to address social exclusion.
Hilary Silver’s paradigms of social exclusion
Silver argues that social exclusion is ‘polysemic, i.e. it has multiple
meanings and therefore requires extensive semantic definition’ (1994:
536). She identifies three paradigms in which she argues the different
meanings and usages of the term social exclusion are embedded. She
borrowed Kuhn’s definition of a paradigm as ‘a constellation of beliefs,
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values, techniques and so on shared by the members of a given
community’ (Kuhn, 1970:175). According to Kuhn (1970:7) such
paradigms ‘specify not only what sorts of entities the universe does
contain but also, by implication, those that it does not’. As Silver notes:
‘Each paradigm attributes exclusion to a different cause and is
grounded in a different political philosophy: Republicanism,
liberalism and social democracy. Each provides an explanation of
multiple forms of social disadvantage – economic, social, political
and cultural – and thus encompasses theories of citizenship and
racial-ethnic inequality as well as poverty and long-term
unemployment’ (Silver 1994: 539).
The Solidarity paradigm is embedded in French Republican political
ideology, and views exclusion as the breakdown of a social bond between
the individual and society that is cultural and moral, rather than
economic. It draws on Durkheimian social theory: ‘like deviance or
anomie, exclusion both threatens and reinforces social cohesion’ (Silver
1994:542). More recent uses incorporate multicultural notions of how the
basis of solidarity is reconfigured.
The Specialization paradigm typifies Anglo-American liberal thought about
exclusion. It perceives social actors primarily as individuals, who are able
to move freely across boundaries of horizontal social differentiation and
economic divisions of labour. This paradigm holds that exclusion is a form
of discrimination. The roots of exclusion are to be found in unenforced
rights and market failures. The specialization paradigm emphasises the
individual and micro-sociological causes of economic exclusion; however,
social liberals are also cognisant of the effects of structural change.
According to Silver (1994:560): ‘The split between supply-side and
demand-side theories parallels the division between classical and social
liberalism… In contrast to supply-side theoreticians who attribute poverty
or unemployment to individual failings, most sociologists now accept that
the new poverty and long-term unemployment have demand-side or
structural causes’.
The Monopoly paradigm, influential on the European Left, sees exclusion
as the result of the formation of group monopolies, restricting access of
outsiders to resources. ‘Drawing heavily on Weber, and, to a lesser
extent, Marx, it views the social order as coercive, imposed through a set
of hierarchical power relations. In this social democratic or conflict theory,
exclusion arises from the interplay of class, status and political power and
serves the political interests of the included… Exclusion is combated
through citizenship, and the extension of equal membership and full
participation in the community to outsiders’ (Silver 1994: 543). In this
paradigm, theories of labour market segmentation epitomise the link
between social closure and economic exclusion.
Importantly, the focus in Silver’s analysis is on the role of political
ideology in generating different understandings of the nature and causes
of social exclusion, and by implication different approaches to
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policy/action to address social exclusion. However, there are limitations
to this typology. Each of Silver’s paradigms presents exclusion as based
in social relationships between two groups: the included and the excluded.
Whilst drawing attention to the ‘actors’ and ‘forces’ driving exclusionary
processes this dichotomous approach fails to take account of the social
gradients in access to resources and power evident in all societies. The
paradigms also fail to account for the differential emphasis placed in
different definitions on the potential for agency by people experiencing
exclusionary processes. Finally, and importantly from the perspective of
this paper, Silver’s paradigms are shaped around advanced Western
democracies. Their applicability in the global context remains therefore to
be demonstrated, although in later writings, Silver extended the analysis
to the Americas (2004, 2005).
Ruth Levitas’ discourses of social exclusion
Silver is primarily concerned to illuminate the political ideologies
underpinning different definitions of social exclusion. Whilst she raises
questions about the significance for policy of these differences she does
not consider these in detail. In contrast, Ruth Levitas (2005) is primarily
concerned to illuminate how ideological underpinnings for concepts of
social exclusion change over time and how these are translated into
different policies/action. Her focus is the UK and her work is based on an
analysis of political discourse over the past two decades or more. As she
notes: ‘a discourse constitutes ways of acting in the world, as well as a
description of it. It both opens up and closes down possibility for action’
(Levitas: 2005:3). Levitas identifies three different social exclusion
discourses in the UK. These are described briefly below.
The redistributionist discourse (RED), emphasises poverty as a prime
cause of social exclusion. It posits citizenship as the obverse of exclusion:
‘poverty spells exclusion from the full rights of citizenship… and
undermines people’s ability to fulfil the private and public obligations of
citizenship’ (Lister,1990:68). RED addresses social, political, cultural and
economic citizenship, broadening out into a critique of inequality (Levitas,
2005:14).
The moral underclass discourse (MUD) emphasises cultural rather than
material explanations of poverty, resonating with the work of Charles
Murray (1990), whereby the excluded are to blame for their fate. It
focuses on the behaviour of the poor and implies welfare benefits are bad
as they undermine people’s ability to be self sufficient creating
dependency. It is a strongly gendered discourse. (Levitas 2005:21).
The social integrationist discourse (SID) sees social inclusion and
exclusion primarily in terms of labour market attachment. It obscures
inequalities between paid workers, particularly gender inequalities
(Levitas,2005:26).
Levitas argues that RED, SID and MUD are:
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‘… ways of thinking about exclusion that imply different strategies
for its abolition. In RED, the assumption is that the resources
available in cash or kind to the poor need to be increased both
relatively and absolutely, implying both improved levels of income
maintenance and better access to public and private services. In
SID, the solution is increased labour market participation, for paid
work is claimed to deliver inclusion both directly and indirectly
through the income it provides. In MUD, the emphasis is on
changing behaviour through a mix of sticks and carrots –
manipulation of welfare benefits, sanctions for non-compliance and
intensive social work with individuals’ (Levitas,2005:x).
Her analysis is strongly informed by a socialist feminist perspective. In
particular she points to the contradictions inherent in policies that valorise
unpaid work (e.g. promote good quality parenting as a mechanism to
address anti-social behaviour) whilst at the same time linking income
maintenance entitlement to formal employment.
Although Levitas’s framework focuses on contemporary Britain and is
particularly applicable to states with established welfare systems, it has a
broader relevance highlighting key issues concerning the nature of public
policy responses to multiple social disadvantages. In the context of the
UK, for example, she argues that policies to address social exclusion have
moved from a concern with distributional equality to focus on ways of:
‘lifting the poor over the boundary of a minimum standard – or to
be more accurate, inducing those who are sufficiently sound in wind
and limb to jump over it – while leaving untouched the overall
pattern of inequality, especially the rich’ (Levitas, 2005:156).
In a similar vein, Veit-Wilson (1998), differentiates between ‘weak and
‘strong’ political discourses of social exclusion in Europe, noting that
power relationships are absent from the ‘weak’ version:
‘In the weak version of this discourse, the solutions lie in altering
these excluded people’s handicapping characteristics and enhancing
their integration into dominant society. Stronger forms of this
discourse also emphasise the role of those who are doing the
excluding and therefore aim at solutions which reduce the powers
of exclusion” (Veit-Wilson, 1998: 45).
Jo Beall’s approaches to social exclusion
Jo Beall (2002) has identified three approaches to social exclusion which
are described below.
The neo-liberal approach views social exclusion as ‘an unfortunate but
inevitable side effect of global economic realignment’ (Beall, 2002:43). As
a consequence of the emergence of free trade and a single global market,
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workers are now excluded from the benefits of trade barriers and social
and employment protection.
A second approach argues that ‘social exclusion represents little more
than an unhelpful re-labelling of poverty or acts to distract attention from
inequality generated by the workings of the economic system’ (Beall,
2002:44) (emphasis added).
The third, transformationalist, approach focuses attention on social
relations embedded in formal and informal institutions, and ‘signals the
use of the social exclusion framework to analyze international processes
and institutional relationships associated with rapid social and economic
global change and local impacts and responses’ (Beall, 2002:44).
Of these three approaches, the neo-liberal and re-labelling of poverty
approaches conceptualise social exclusion as a ‘state’ whereas the
transformational approach focuses attention on exclusionary processes.
This latter approach is concerned with social interactions and power
relationships at different levels – from global to local – and recognises the
social, political and cultural, as well as the economic, dimensions of
power.
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3. 4 Key points: the meanings of social exclusion
The concept of ‘social exclusion’ is contested, and has multiple meanings.
These meanings are being continually redefined over time and have
different policy implications.
The term ‘social exclusion’ has been used to describe: groups at risk of
exclusion; what people are excluded from; the states associated with
exclusion; the processes involved and levels at which they operate; and
the actors involved.
There is some consensus that ‘social exclusion’ is: (a) multidimensional,
encompassing social, political, cultural and economic dimensions, and
operating at different social levels; (b) dynamic, impacting in different
ways to differing degrees at different social levels over time; and (c)
relational. A relational perspective has two dimensions. On the one hand,
it focuses on exclusion as the rupture of relationships between people and
the society resulting in a lack of social participation, social protection,
social integration and power. Alternatively, a relational perspective points
to exclusion as the product of unequal social relationships characterised by
differential power i.e. the product of the way societies are organised.
Definitions also differ in other fundamental respects. ‘Social exclusion’ has
been conceptualised as a continuum across society, or as affecting a
segment of the population outside mainstream social systems and
relationships. Similarly, social exclusion may be defined as the processes
embedded in unequal power relationships that create inequalities or as a
state of multiple disadvantage. There is also a distinction between schools
of thought that emphasise lack of participation of individuals in society and
those that identify social exclusion as a lack of access to citizenship rights
for members of particular group, community, society or country.
In terms of who or what is driving exclusion, attention has been directed at
the causal role of diverse ‘agents’ ranging from globalisation to excluded
individuals/groups themselves. Although there has been little research on
the agency of groups most affected by exclusionary forces there is ample
evidence from other sources that they are rarely passive victims.
Silver (1994), Levitas (1998; 2005) and Beall (2002) have made important
contributions to our understanding of the ideological and political roots of
different definitions and illuminated the implications for policy/action to
address ‘social exclusion’. While many definitions of ‘social exclusion’
incorporate apparently contradictory connotations, the labelling approach
distinguishing ‘the excluded’ from the rest of society, dominates attempts
to operationalise and measure ‘social exclusion’ and policy/action to
address it.
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4. Exclusionary Processes
‘The concept [social exclusion] takes us beyond mere descriptions
of deprivation, and focuses attention on social relations and the
processes and institutions that underlie and are part and parcel of
deprivation’ (de Haan, 2001:26).
The previous section explored some of the differences - often implicit underlying
definitions and descriptions of ‘social exclusion’. A key theme
has been the distinction between social exclusion conceptualised as a
‘state’, a ‘process’, or both. As de Haan notes, conceptualised in relational
and process terms, social exclusion can help increase understanding of the
causes and consequences of deprivation and inequalities. In this section,
we focus on some of these exclusionary processes. As Sen (2000) has
noted a distinction can be drawn between active exclusionary processes
that are the direct and intended result of policy or discriminatory action
including, for example, withholding political, economic and social rights
from migrant groups or deliberate discrimination on the basis of gender,
caste or age; and passive exclusionary processes, which in contrast, arise
indirectly, for example when fiscal or trade policies result in an economic
downturn leading to increased unemployment. Whether active or passive,
exclusionary processes operate at many levels – in households, villages
and cities, nation states and global regions – and encompass, for
example: institutionalised and informal racism, discrimination and
xenophobia; deeply rooted social structures such as patriarchy; political
ideologies such as neo-liberalism and the policies that flow from these;
and the workings of global, national and local economies. Climate change
is creating new powerful exclusionary processes and these will increase in
the future whilst conflict, fuelled by competition over land and resources,
by hatred and greed has long been a powerful exclusionary force and
continues to be so. In a review of this nature we cannot cover the full
range of exclusionary processes nor do justice to their complexity instead
we have sought to illustrate the complexity, pervasiveness and scale of
the processes involved. We focus on the economic, social, political and
cultural domains, in particular: the exclusionary processes accompanying
globalisation; the potentially exclusionary impacts of public policy; and
the stigmatising and exclusionary impacts of certain cultural and symbolic
processes. This section ends with a discussion of the distinctive
contribution of the social exclusion relational ‘lens’.
4.1 Economic transformation and globalisation
The concept of social exclusion emerged from the 1970s onwards during a
period of rapid social and economic transformation at national, regional
and global levels. As Silver (1994) and others have highlighted these
transformations created what were perceived to be new social problems
that challenged the assumptions underpinning Western welfare state
provision concerning the operation of labour markets, the potential for full
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employment, the relationship between paid and unpaid work and the
nature of citizenship and entitlement1
.
The economic crisis of the 1970s triggered a rise in the power and
influence of neo-liberal ideologies and policies including: industrial
restructuring, the opening up of labour markets, moves to reduce workers
protection and the retreat of state provided welfare. Production was
relocated and decentralised often moving to low wage economies, capital
investment in new technologies contributed to growing unemployment in
the older established industrial heartlands of Western Europe, North
America and Australia, differentially affecting already disadvantaged
groups and whole geographic areas. These trends were reinforced by the
progressive growth of the tertiary sector of the economy from the 1960s,
especially of the financial sector. As the financial sector became more
global the monetary sovereignty of the nation state was undermined.
These dynamics in the financial sector added to the pressure for greater
labour flexibility, expressed in higher unemployment, more precarious
employment and loss of the old mechanisms of social protection for many
workers (Salama, 2006:64-72; Castel, 2004:75-86).
The nature and impact of globalisation and employment conditions around
the world are considered in detail in the final reports of two other WHO
Knowledge Networks (Benach, et al.,2007; Labonte, et al.,2007),
including the dramatic impacts of these changes on the distribution of
income and wealth and social relationships. Organised labour
organisations and informal networks of solidarity have been undermined,
individuals, households and entire communities have been put under
extreme social and economic pressure, working conditions have
deteriorated for millions of people, poverty increased and income
inequalities widened. It was in this context that ‘social exclusion’ was
seen to provide greater explanatory power than the concept of poverty:
not only does it move beyond the economic domain to highlight the multidimensionality
of inequalities, but it also illuminates causal processes.
Some commentators went further arguing that the concept of social
exclusion opened up new ways of investigating and understanding global
exclusionary processes. Beall (2002:50) for example, suggests that it
provides:
‘a way of understanding the relational and institutional dynamics
that serve to include some and keep others out in a connected but
polarized global economic context. As such, it is an analytical
construct compatible with the study of global economic processes
and the poverty and inequality to which they increasingly give rise’.
As Castells (1998:162) has noted: ‘globalization proceeds selectively,
including and excluding segments of economies and societies in and out of
networks of information, wealth and power that characterize the new
dominant systems’. And whilst the economic and social impact of these
transformational forces may have been felt initially in high income
1
Feminist writers, amongst others had, of course, challenged the assumptions underpinning western
welfare states before these macro economic and social changes became prominent.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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countries, they have been both global and local in their reach. For
example, Beall (2002), using examples from the cities of Faisalabad and
Johannesburg, highlights the ways in which exclusionary processes
associated with globalization graft themselves onto local dynamics of
social exclusion. At the same time it is not just segments of societies that
are subject to exclusionary processes but whole nations and regions of the
world notably for example Sub-Saharan Africa (SSA).
Some writers, such as Amartya Sen, caution against a wholesale
condemnation of globalisation arguing that it can be both a threat and an
opportunity. For example, the positive impact on women’s lives of paid
employment in the garment industry in Bangladesh despite poor working
conditions is described in the final report of the SEKN (Popay, et. al.
2008). For Sen, it is not globalization and markets per se that are
problematic. Indeed, in a sense Sen sees markets as value-free,
representing the ‘basic arrangement through which people can interact
with each other, and undertake mutually advantageous activities’ (2000:
28). Rather, Sen argues, it is the malfunctioning of markets and the lack
of adequate governance of globalizing forces that are the root of the
problem. The role of public policy in this regard is considered next.
4.2 Public policy and exclusionary processes
For many writers, broadly positioned on the ‘democratic left’, exclusionary
processes are not simply an unintended consequence of the economic
restructuring that has taken place in the past 40 years: rather they are a
necessary condition for it in a situation where, as David Byrne has argued
(1999:128) ‘post-industrial capitalism [is] founded around a flexible
labour market and … a systematic constraining of the organizational
powers of workers as collective actors’. For Byrne, ‘the excluded’ are a
reserve army of labour, moving in and out of employment at the bottom
end of the labour market, mobilised or demobilised according to
fluctuations in the economy. These writers point to the exclusionary
processes associated with economic and social policies enacted by many
Western states. For example, Navarro and colleagues (Navarro and Shi,
2001; Navarro et al., 2006) have analysed the relationship between
political commitment to redistributive policies in high income capitalist
countries and levels of income and social and health inequalities, arguing
that where this commitment is weakest, in liberal democracies such as the
USA, Canada and the UK, income and health inequalities are greatest.
Similarly, Townsend (1997) has argued that the principle causes of
increased levels of relative poverty in Britain from the 1980s onwards are
deregulation; privatisation; unemployment; reduction in public spending;
restructured taxes; and the centralising of political control.
The dominance of the international financial sector led to economic and
political pressure on many low income countries to repay the debt
accumulated in the post-war period. Multilateral banks pressed for
structural adjustment policies in the 1980s, which became known in the
1990s as “the Washington Consensus”. These ‘adjustments’ included
opening up economies to international competition, increasing labour
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flexibility, restricting public social expenditure and the introduction of new
‘pro-market’ forms of social protection for the poor underpinned by neoliberal
theories (Stewart,1998: 38-42; Salama, 1999). These involved a
shift away from the public funding and provision of essential services (e.g.
healthcare) to a focus on subsidising demand for services from private
sector providers (Hernández et al., 2002:323-333) and an increasing
reliance on conditional cash and/or service transfers primarily to the poor
(Popay et al., 2008; Hernández, 2003:352-358; Rodríguez, 2007).
However, many commentators argue that these selective programmes
have not had the impacts anticipated by their proponents. Instead, it is
argued, they have increased social inequalities creating new forms of
‘social exclusion’. These critics maintain that social protection systems
that are conditional upon people's capacity to pay rather than their
citizenship status (as in universal systems) will inevitably be exclusionary
as well as being expensive to administer and difficult to target effectively
(Hernández, 2002; Lauthier, 2005; Le Bonniec, 2005; Rodríguez, 2005;
Mkandawire, 2005; Townsend, 2007).
An alternative view, from the radical left, is that the link between the right
to an income and the obligation to earn or use it in ways consistent with
the economic and cultural hegemony of capitalism should be broken
(Bowring, 2000, in Davies, 2005:5). Bowring argued that redistributionist
scholars, by emphasising participation in work, income and commodity
relations, implicitly equate exclusion with normative deviation and
inclusion with conformity to social convention. He also argued for the
assertion of the existence of new, non-commodified, needs, which cannot
be satisfied by capitalism and which prefigure a different kind of society
(2000:309). Moreover, for Bowring (2000:314) ‘assuming people are
ashamed of poverty is… a scandalous attribution to make’; and many
people living on substandard incomes are reluctant to describe themselves
as such. )
4. 3 Discrimination, stigma and human rights
The discussion so far has highlighted exclusionary processes embedded in
economic, political and social relationships operating within and between
nation states. However, as Estivill (2003) has argued, these processes are
overlain and reinforced by cultural and symbolic processes which
differentiate and stigmatise particular groups, nations and global regions.
Estivill (2003:45) describes three stages in the development of these
dominant social values and attitudes. Dominant institutions start by
applying negative labels and attributes to define and classify those who do
not conform to dominant social ‘rules’. The victorious ‘social mindset’
then uses its categorization to legitimize differences in the treatment of
others. The third stage is characterised by strong repression and
stigmatisation. This description resonates with Durkheim’s (1895) analysis
of deviance:
‘Imagine a society of saints, a perfect cloister of exemplary
individuals. Crimes (or deviance) properly so called, will there be
unknown; but faults that appear venial to the layman will create
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there the same scandal that the ordinary offence does in ordinary
consciousnesses. If, then, this society has the power to judge and
punish, it will define these acts as criminal (or deviant) and will
treat them as such.’
Public attitudes towards the poor in Britain illustrate the exclusionary
potential of these processes. For example, research by Gough and
Eisenschitz (2006) suggest that these attitudes are at best indifferent, at
worst, hostile, in a context of socio-spatial separation of the poor from the
better off. They argued that this hostility is shaped, among others, by
popular culture and political ideology propagated by the mass media,
competition for jobs and other resources, and fear of poverty. A Fabian
Society Report on child poverty (2006) reinforces this picture arguing that
there would be little public support for a more progressive tax regime in
the UK. However, a more nuanced picture emerges from the Joseph
Rowntree Foundation’s 2007 report on public attitudes to income
inequality, with a majority of people thinking that the gap between high
and low incomes is too great although this does not translate directly or
simplistically into support for more redistributive policies.
Whilst Durkheim’s theories are deterministic – leaving little space for
agency on the part of disadvantaged people – more recent theorists have
acknowledged that people are not necessarily passive victims. For
example, Estivill (2003:14) argues that in the face of powerful
exclusionary processes individuals and/or groups ‘either try to find a way
out through their own networks of relations or, if they so decide, they can
fight against the circumstances of their exclusion and criticize society for
its lack of recognition’. However, as Gough and Eisenschitz (2006:131)
point out: ‘In an individualistic society, it is natural to blame social failure
on oneself’ (Gough and Eisenschitz, 2006:131). They suggest that
prevailing negative attitudes can increase the sense of powerlessness felt
by people living in poverty and undermine their capacity for collective
action. In addition to the lack of realistic opportunities for advancement,
the ability of disadvantaged groups to improve their circumstances is
further compromised by the social specificity of what Bourdieu (1986) has
called ‘cultural capital’: a composite of social behaviours, accent, physical
demeanour, cultural tastes and attitudes acquired in childhood. While
higher-class cultural capital is regarded as universal, lower-class capital
has limited socio-spatial recognition. Gough and Eisenschitz (2006: 111)
contend that despite the mass media, the class gap in cultural capital in
the UK is probably not narrowing, and that everyday behaviours still
stigmatise and exclude the poor.
Negative social values and attitudes towards the poor and poverty in high
income countries also create downward pressure on the level of aid
monies going to low income countries. For example, a household survey
of public attitudes towards poverty in developing countries commissioned
in 2006 by DFID in the UK echoed, at a global level, negative and
paternalistic perceptions of recipients of aid (Lader, 2007). On the positive
side, over four fifths of respondents were concerned about poverty in
developing countries, and 53% thought the UK government’s commitment
to poverty reduction in developing countries was too little. However, two
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fifths of respondents agreed with the statement: ‘some people have said
that most aid to developing (poor) countries is wasted’, generally blaming
developing countries themselves for wasting aid, through corruption
(76%) and inefficiency (46%). The most popular policy to help countries
with corrupt governments was putting strict conditions on how the money
was spent.
The impact of cultural and symbolic exclusionary processes is not confined
to attitudes towards the poor. Operating through formal legalised and
institutionalised systems as well as informally, these processes devalue
and undermine the cultures and voices of indigenous peoples around the
globe. They are contributing to the displacement of millions, rendering
many stateless and condemning them to live in extreme poverty and
constant fear with limited if any rights (Popay et al., 2008). Economic,
cultural and symbolic exclusionary processes are together fuelling an
unprecedented growth in the numbers of people without citizenship. These
include refugees in countries with no asylum legislation; the displaced;
failures in the birth registration system; and illegal immigrants. ‘Noncitizens’
implicitly do not exist in the eyes of social institutions and are not
in a position to make claims to human rights, social protection or public
services. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees
(UNHCR) reported that at the end of 2005, the number of people with
‘official’ refugee status or protected or assisted by the UNHCR because
they were at risk stood at 21 million. A year later this had increased by
56% to 32.9 million (UNHCR, 2007).
The International Labour Organisation (ILO) has made a major
contribution to understanding the nature of exclusionary processes in both
developed and less economically developed countries (LEDCs) drawing
particular attention to the significance of fundamental civil and political
rights (Figueiredo and Gore, 1997). In many countries of the South,
particularly those still struggling to free themselves from the negative
legacies of their colonial past, political exclusion remains a powerful
constraint on people’s participation in formal institutions. Importantly, the
contours of political exclusion are frequently mapped onto and reinforce
patterns of cultural discrimination and stigmatisation.
4. 4 Social exclusion and other relational concepts
Social exclusion is one of a number of relational ‘lens’ used by social
scientists to make sense of patterns of social differentiation and
inequalities. Notable others include gender, social class, religion, caste
and ethnicity and all are complex and contested. Arguably, at the very
least there are important overlaps between the social realities these
concepts seek to describe; the particular contribution of social exclusion
may be to focus attention on to the interaction and impact of multiple
exclusionary processes.
Participants at a recent Round Table on social exclusion (UNDP, 2007a),
mostly drawn from the UNDP and other UN agencies, highlighted the
unequal power relationships underlying poverty, and the experiences of
Social exclusion literature review September 08
28
exclusion of non-citizens, migrant workers and indigenous groups (for
example the Janajati in Nepal and the Roma in Eastern Europe) and of
stigmatised groups (for example the Dalits in India and Burakumin in
Japan). They acknowledged that the concept of ‘social inclusion’ may be
double-edged for ethnic, religious or linguistic minorities and indigenous
peoples, with the potential for states to adopt policies of forcible
displacement or assimilation that eradicate cultural differences. Minority
groups often seek recognition of equal rights, including recognition of
diversity2
. Women and children were identified as being particularly
vulnerable to exclusion, due to their weak economic and political power
and lack of status in their communities, violence against women,
increased HIV/AIDS vulnerability, and their exposure to ritual exclusion
(eg women who refuse genital mutilation or rites of widowhood in the
Cameroun).
The UNDP round table participants identified failure on the part of states
to address exclusion based on caste, ethnicity, gender and geography as
one of the causes of conflict. Examples of groups resisting discrimination
by violent action include the Maoist people in Nepal, conflict in Sudan, and
action by militant youths in the Niger delta, where the poorest and most
excluded indigenous groups have had no share in the benefits of natural
resources exploited by oil companies and the state (Mathieson et al.
2008). An estimated three-quarters of the world’s conflicts have an ethnic
or religious dimension, most often linked to exclusion from economic or
political opportunities and/or suppression of cultural identity.
The insistence by some commentators to distinguish between causal
processes underpinning different axes of social differentiation is linked in
part to the earlier discussion of the diverse meanings attaching to social
exclusion. Beall (2002), for example, adopting a definition reflecting the
European orgins of the concept, argues that experiences under apartheid
in South Africa are best understood as racial oppression, exploitation and
denial of citizenship rights rather than social exclusion. In contrast, she
suggests, social exclusion is primarily speaking to class based divisions
driven by economic processes and labour market dynamics and hence is
more relevant to understanding the genesis of inequalities in postapartheid
urban South Africa where:
‘… new forms of capitalist production and changes in employment in
Johannesburg, associated with the rise in importance of the service
sector, have begun to erode the entrenched correspondence
between racial and class divisions that characterized racial
economic development and employment patterns during much of
the apartheid era. The new socially excluded residents of
Johannesburg are not only those who are black but also white who
2
Following many years of lobbying by indigenous and non-indigenous people, on 13 September 2007,
the United Nations General Assembly adopted a declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples,
which although non-binding, sets out the individual and collective rights of indigenous peoples and
prohibits discrimination.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
29
are superfluous to the requirements of the global economy and
Johannesburg’s place in it’ (2002:49).
Concerns about the relationship between different dimensions of social
differentiation and inequality and the relative salience of different causal
processes are important. The concept of social exclusion has considerable
analytical potential to enhance understanding and inform policy/action. It
focuses attention simultaneously on the complex causal processes driving
poverty and disadvantage and on the multidimensional nature of the
experience or outcome of these processes. However, the insights
provided by the social exclusion ‘lens’ cannot replace those provided by
the lens of gender, ethnicity, caste, age, disability and so on. Only taken
singly and in combination will the understanding provided by these
concepts make the maximum contribution to achieving more equitable
and cohesive societies and global systems.
4.6 Key points: the processes of exclusion
A relational approach to defining social exclusion that focuses on
multidimensional, dynamic, processes embedded in unequal power
relationships has ‘investigative advantage’ in understanding the causes
and consequences of poverty and deprivation.
These processes operate and interact across economic, social, political and
cultural dimensions, through social relations within and between
individuals, communities, institutions, nation states and global regions. A
focus on exclusionary processes can:
• Highlight the impacts of economic and social transformation driven by
relational and institutional power differentials;
• Reveal linkages between processes associated with globalisation and
local exclusionary dynamics;
• Illuminate the active and passive exclusionary processes arising from
public policy;
• Expose the role of cultural and symbolic processes as drivers of
exclusion stigmatising the poor and other population groups, restricting
human, civil, political and cultural rights and constraining capacity for
collective action.
In theory the concept of social exclusion has considerable analytical
potential. It can focus attention onto the interaction between multiple
exclusionary processes operating across systems of social stratification
associated with gender, ethnicity, caste, religion, social class etc.
However, insights provided by the social exclusion ‘lens’ are
complementary to these other relational lens rather than providing an
alternative way of conceptualising these.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
30
5. Alternative and parallel discourses
‘…the concept of social exclusion as it originated in Western Europe,
seems to have played a role in the re-opening of old debates and
discussions… under new terminology’ (Saith, 2001:10)
5.1 Which alternative discourses?
As Saith highlights, debates surrounding the concept of social exclusion
have echoes in and to some extent have replaced older debates. In the
previous section important overlaps with debates about the nature and
causes of inequalities associated with major axes of social differentiation
notably gender, race/ethnicity, caste, age and ability/disability, were
discussed. It was noted that the particular feature of the social exclusion
lens is that it focuses attention on the role played by relationships
between individuals, groups and whole nations, and particularly
differential power embedded in these relationships, in the generation of
poverty and inequality. In addition to overlaps with other relational
concepts there are therefore important links with more proximal concepts
– concepts which may have greater policy/action salience than social
exclusion in some parts of the world. Poverty is clearly the most obvious
alternative concept from this perspective but there are others: basic
needs, sustainable development, social cohesion, social capital, etc. We
have chosen to focus here on just two alternative discourses – poverty
and social capital - partly because they are the most proximal to social
exclusion but also because these discourses and their relationship to social
exclusion are arguably the most contentious.
5.2 Poverty, vulnerability, capability and human development
The concept of poverty is fast evolving, and when broadened to
incorporate notions of relativity, vulnerability and capability deprivation, it
tends to dovetail with thinking about social exclusion. Notwithstanding this
common ground, most commentators would argue that the concepts of
poverty and social exclusion are not synonymous.
Poverty was long conceptualised in absolute terms typically in terms of a
minimum consumption basket to meet an individual’s basic needs
(Rowntree, 1901). It has more recently been redefined in relative terms,
placing emphasis on the distribution of income and wealth in a society.
There has been a corresponding move from defining an absolute poverty
line - denoting a minimum standard of living that is similar in any country
at any time - to a relative poverty line, set for example as a proportion of
the national average income at a point in time.
Peter Townsend’s landmark work in the UK was instrumental in this reconceptualisation
of poverty, establishing a set of resources, in the form
of goods and services, governing standards of living, and moving towards
a multidimensional, relative, definition of poverty. He also includes social
participation – another relational concept - as a resource necessary to
avoid poverty and its consequences.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
31
‘Individuals… can be said to be in poverty when they lack the
resources to obtain the types of diet, participate in the activities
and have the living conditions and amenities which are customary,
or at least widely encouraged or approved, in the societies to which
they belong’ (Townsend, 1979:31).
This relative concept of poverty is now prevalent in many countries in
South and North America, Western Europe and Australasia. In the UK it
was recently reiterated by the newspaper columnist Polly Toynbee: ‘To be
poor is to fall too far behind what most ordinary people have in your own
society’ (Toynbee, 2006). And it has gained credence to the right of the
political spectrum in the UK: whereas in the past Conservative
administrations have tended to dismiss relative poverty as reflecting no
more than unavoidable, almost natural, inequalities in society (Beresford
et al., 1999), in 2006 the Conservative Party leader David Cameron was
quoted as saying: “Even if we are not destitute, we still experience
poverty if we cannot afford things that society regards as essential”
(Cameron, 2006). Measures of poverty in the UK, the EU and many other
countries are consistent with this conceptualisation (for example, in the
UK, poverty is assessed against low-income thresholds linked to
contemporary median incomes).
As noted in earlier sections whilst some Northern Hemisphere
commentators have voiced a concern at the way in which the discourse of
social exclusion is decentring poverty discourses, others have focused on
the additional benefits of the exclusion ‘lens’. From an Anglo-Saxon
poverty tradition, Matt Barnes (2005:15) has attempted to draw
distinctions between poverty, deprivation and social exclusion. In his
schema, and in contrast to poverty and deprivation, the concept of social
exclusion ‘evokes a multi-dimensional notion of participation in society,
involving a combination of physical, material, relational and societal
needs, over a period of time’ (Barnes, 2005:16). This approach echoes
Estivill’s suggestion (2003:21) that: ‘if poverty is a photograph, exclusion
is a film’.
Table 1: Comparison of poverty, deprivation and social exclusion
Poverty Deprivation Social exclusion
One-dimensional Multi-dimensional Multi-dimensional
Physical needs Physical needs
Material needs
Physical needs
Material needs
Societal participation
Distributional Distributional Distributional
Relational
Static Static Dynamic
Individual
Household
Individual
Household
Individual
Household
Community
Source: Barnes (2005)
Social exclusion literature review September 08
32
However, whilst social exclusion has become the dominant inequality
discourse in Europe and Latin America this is not necessarily the case
around the globe. In other regions, notably South East Asia and SubSaharan
Africa the discourse of poverty, defined in both absolute and
relative terms and extending to include notions of vulnerability, basic
needs, capabilities, resource enhancement and sustainable human
development and have greater policy/action relevance and salience. This
is discussed in other SEKN documents and the SEKN’s final report (Popay,
et al. 2008; Rispel et al. 2007; Johnston et al. 2008).
Not-with-standing the pioneering work of scholars such as Peter
Townsend, euro-centric approaches to defining and measuring poverty
and deprivation have been criticised from a development perspective for
placing too much emphasis on income disadvantage. For example, Robert
Chambers (1997) on the basis of participatory research with people
experiencing poverty and disadvantage in Africa, Asia and Latin America,
emphasises the notion of vulnerability, which he defines as exposure to
risk and shocks, and defencelessness, or the lack of means to cope
without damaging loss. As Chambers (1997:45) argues:
‘Deprivation as poor people perceive it has many dimensions,
including not only lack of income and wealth, but also social
inferiority, physical weakness, disability and sickness, vulnerability,
physical and social isolation, powerlessness and humiliation … In
practice, much of this wide spectrum of deprivation and ill-being is
covered by the common use of the word poverty… [However]
poverty is then defined as low income, or often as low consumption,
which is more easily and reliably measured. Surveys are carried out
and poverty lines constructed. This limits much of the analysis of
poverty to the one dimension that has been measured’.
Castel also focuses on the notion of ‘vulnerability’ pointing to need for a
better understanding of the trajectory of groups and individuals along a
‘continuum of vulnerable situations’ (Castel, 1998: 129). In Castel’s
formulation vulnerability is not understood as an individual weakness, but
as a range of situations that human groups share but the resources and
capabilities to avoid or escape them is unequally distributed. Minujin
similarly proposes a continuum from inclusion to exclusion characterised
by increasing vulnerability (Minujin, 1998: 176-187).
Of particular relevance at a global level is the notion of human
development: the process of enlarging people’s choice by expanding
human capabilities and functioning. This understanding of the common
global development challenge regardless of GDP has been promoted by
the UNDP, inspired by Amartya Sen’s work on capabilities:
‘At all levels of development the three essential capabilities for
human development are for people to lead long and healthy lives,
to be knowledgeable and to have a decent standard of living. If
these basic capabilities are not achieved, many choices are simply
Social exclusion literature review September 08
33
not available and many opportunities remain inaccessible. But the
realm of human development goes further: essential areas of
choice, highly valued by people, range from political, economic and
social opportunities for being creative and productive to enjoying
self-respect, empowerment and a sense of belonging to a
community’ (UNDP, 2007b).
The UNDP’s first Human Development Report published in 1990
introduced the Human Development Index (HDI) which incorporates Sen’s
three ‘essential’ capabilities. Since then three other indices have been
developed, including a Human Poverty Index (HPI). These are described in
section 6.6 below.
In contrast to the UNDP’s broad conceptualisation of poverty as
deprivation in elements essential for human life, the World Bank uses a
reductionist monetary figure of $US 1 a day to define absolute poverty.
This measure is now widely adopted by international agencies although it
fails to take account of social needs and local complexity. Indeed, the first
of the eight Millennium Development targets is to halve, between 1990
and 2015, the proportion of people whose income is less than $US 1 a
day, using a 1993 measure of purchasing power parity (PPP) to adjust for
differences in prices between countries. In developing countries,
measures of poverty generally reflect an absolute approach relying on
calculation of the costs of a ‘basket’ of basic needs.
5.3 Social exclusion and social capital
Social capital, like social exclusion, is a contested concept which has
received much attention in recent years. It has been described as a
relational concept, concerned with ‘identifying the nature and extent of
social relationships’ (Szreter and Woolcock, 2004:650). Whereas the
conceptual literature linking social exclusion to health is limited, social
capital has been widely theorised as a mediating link between socioeconomic
inequality and health, building on Richard Wilkinson’s influential
book, Unhealthy Societies (1996). There has also been extensive empirical
research in this area, the interpretation of which is a subject of ongoing
debate (see section 8 of this paper).
Robert Putnam, one of the key advocates of the concept, defines social
capital as: ‘features of social organisation such as networks, norms and
trust’ (Putnam, 1993). Types of networks range from the informal (family,
friends, neighbours) to the formal (sports clubs, civic associations); norms
are ‘those unstated rules or standards that often govern actions during
informal or spontaneous social relations’ (Hean et al., 2004); and trust
has been defined as ‘belief in the goodwill and benign intent of others’
(Kawachi et al, 1997).
Putnam (1993, 2000) sees social capital as the social infrastructure
(‘wires’) that enables individuals to gain access to resources. Viewed at a
relational level, social capital is thus for Putnam the property of
individuals, but only by virtue of group/community membership. In
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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contrast, network scholars, notably James Coleman (1988), argue that
social capital refers to the resources that flow through networks (for
example, material resources, willingness of network members to offer
assistance, information): i.e. the electricity rather than the wires
themselves.
Bourdieu (1986) a French socialist and sociologist writing from a radically
different theoretical and political position to Putnam, also defines social
capital in terms of networks but emphasises their role in the constitution
and maintenance of hierarchical class relations and social and economic
inequalities. This is part of his account of different forms of capital
(economic, cultural, social and symbolic) and their interrelationships.
According to Virginia Morrow (2002:11), ‘Bourdieu is primarily concerned
with how economic capital underpins these other forms, how forms of
capital interact with wider structures to reproduce social inequalities, and
how the day-to-day activities of social actors draw upon and reproduce
structural features of wider social systems’.
Much of the empirical research on social capital has been underpinned by
the Putnam approach to understanding the concept. In this context, the
unit of analysis to which the concept can be applied is contentious. While
some neo-classical economists see social capital as the property of
individuals, others, including the neo-conservative Francis Fukuyama
(1995) see it as a characteristic of spatially defined communities ranging
from villages to entire societies. It has been suggested that communities
possessing high levels of social capital may obtain benefits including faster
economic development, better government and improved health.
However, most commentators recognise that social capital can be
associated with either good or bad outcomes: the purposes for which
resources are used being analytically and practically distinct from how
they are obtained. Thus high levels of social capital may be associated
with criminal and ‘terrorist’ activity, corruption and nepotism and/or social
control, blocking the access of ‘out-groups’ to ‘community’ resources.
Conventionally, within the Putnamesque approach, two types of social
capital have been identified: ‘bonding’ social capital, referring to relations
between members of a group or network who share a common identity;
and ‘bridging’ social capital, which transcends these divides (for example,
of age, ethnicity, class), through participation in associational activity.
More recently, a third dimension, ‘linking’ social capital, has been
introduced, defined by Szreter and Woolcock (2004:655) as ‘norms of
respect and networks of trusting relationships between people who are
interacting across explicit, formal or institutionalized power or authority
gradients in society’. Linking social capital, according to Szreter and
Woolcock (2004:656), is: ‘particularly relevant for the effective
implementation of measures to assist the ill, poor, and the ‘socially
excluded’. For example, they argue that without relationships of trust and
respect between those involved in delivering public services and ‘the
poor’, these measures are unlikely to succeed. Szreter and Woolcook
conclude that a three-dimensional conceptualisation of social capital:
Social exclusion literature review September 08
35
‘places great emphasis on both the quality and quantity of
relationships between all citizens. It also places emphasis on
whether or not these relationships are founded on mutual respect
between people, differentiated either horizontally by their varying
social identities or vertically by their access to different levels of
power and authority’ (Szreter and Woolcock, 2004:663).
It has been argued that much empirical research on social capital has
suffered from a lack of theoretical clarity (Hean et al., 2004) and attempts
at measurement reflect the conceptual debates described above.
Criticisms include: a preponderance of indicators that reflect the same
‘elasticity’ with which the term ‘social capital’ is used in different
disciplines and approaches; a lack of clarity about the choice of unit of
analysis or level for measurement (e.g. individual, aggregate, or
community); over-reliance on self-reports; a large number of potentially
omitted variables; and problems with the transferability and
appropriateness of survey instruments to different geographic contexts
and disciplinary realms. Blaxter argues that these problems have
implications for the study of the putative relationship between social
capital and health because:
‘…there is a tendency to define as social capital whatever social
indicators best predict health status. This becomes tautologous:
social capital promotes good health, but is at the same time defined
by those things known to be health promoting’ (Blaxter, 2004:15).
In part because of these measurement difficulties, there are conflicting
views on the relationship between social capital and health outcomes. For
example, whilst Szreter and Woolcock, (2004:65) claim that the ‘specific
research connecting social capital to health outcomes via a social support
mechanism is vast’ , Muntaner (2004:765), argues that ‘the health effects
of social capital cannot be taken for granted and in spite of some
promising findings, the burden of proof is still on the ‘social capital’
hypothesis’. Morgan and Swann (2004:190), in the conclusion of their
secondary analysis of surveys relating to social capital and health
conclude that ‘the positive relationships that have been found are only
true for some indicators of social capital and vary according to the health
outcome of interest. Moreover, while some independent effects have been
found, social capital has less power to predict health than other more
familiar indicators of socio-economic status’.
Swann and Morgan (2002:6) have also reviewed qualitative research on
social capital to ‘look beneath the surface at the hard-to-measure
processes and actions of people’s relationships to others, at community
structures, and the ‘life’ of communities and networks’. This review
identified a number of barriers to the acquisition and utilisation of ‘social
capital’, including differential power and the experience of
disempowerment, social identity, rights and aspects of place. Attempts
have also been made to observe community relationships and norms
directly.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
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At a general level, the utility of the Putnam approach to defining the
concept of social capital has been criticised because of its foundation in
the liberal traditions of utilitarianism and individualism (Skocpol, 1996;
Hernández et al., 2001). From this perspective it is the notion of ‘capital’
available for individual roots - with its root in economics – that is the
problem, notwithstanding the focus on personal relationships and
voluntary association. These commentators challenge the assumption
that “values” related to mutual trust and reciprocity will generate
individual wealth and make for successful societies and criticise attempts
to create hierarchies of societies based on the level of social capital
(Inglehart, 1997). These approaches, it is argued, fail to recognise that
conflict and power relationships do not necessarily lead to social failure
and that voluntary relationships and the action of voluntary associations
are not necessarily freely chosen but may result from potentially invisible
pressure from states and institutions (Hernández et al., 2001:21-23).
Recent approaches to using the concept of social capital in research and
policy has also been criticised for distracting from more pressing economic
and political issues. For example, Muntaner (2004:677) has argued that:
‘the political use of social capital outside public health leans towards
tolerance for social inequality and against egalitarian social change’. He
adds that an emphasis on the measurement of ‘social capital’, to the
detriment of data reflecting political and economic processes, can lead to
‘pseudo explanations’ where:
‘Crime, isolation, drug use, broken windows, sexually transmitted
diseases and other diseases are seen as the outcome of some
intrinsic deficiency of the community’ (Muntaner, 2004: 678).
There are then major controversies surrounding the value of social capital
as a conceptual lens through which to understand the nature and
consequences of social relationships at micro, meso and macro levels
within societies – controversies that mirror those surrounding the concept
of ‘social exclusion’. A pre-requisite for any analysis of the relationship
between these two concepts is clarity of theoretical and ideological
position and definition. Thus, for example, Putnam sees social capital as
associated with social benefits or social problems – and hence as
potentially a focus of social policy. Bourdieu on the other hand uses the
concept as part of his social theory of inequality and does not develop it
as a single cause of social ills or argue that policy should seek to impact
on it specifically as distinct from social inequalities in general. Putnam’s
neo-Durkheimian perspective on social capital aligns itself most obviously
with Levitas’ SID discourse, and Silver’s ‘solidarity’ paradigm, described in
section 3. Bourdieu’s analysis is closer to radical redistributionist
interpretations of social exclusion, drawing on conflict theory, as
exemplified by Silver’s ‘monopoly’ paradigm and Beall’s
transformationalist approach. A three-dimensional conceptualisation of
social capital goes some way towards exploring links between micro- and
macro-sociological phenomena, but falls short of the ‘integrated analysis
of institutions’ that Sen (2000) sees as essential to a relational approach
to social exclusion; neither does it take full account of the dynamic
structural aspects of global exclusionary processes. In summary, as
Social exclusion literature review September 08
37
Levitas cautions (2006:136): ‘the conceptual background and political
implications of ‘exclusion from social relations’ and ‘social capital’ are not
the same’, and care should be taken to avoid defining, measuring, and
interpreting them interchangeably.
5.3 Key points: alternative and parallel discourses
This section has considered concepts that may act as alternatives to social
exclusion as ‘lens’ through which to understand and act on social
inequalities. Poverty and social capital have been selected for attention
here as the most proximal concepts and arguably the most contentious.
There are other concepts which might have been considered including, for
example, human rights, basic needs and sustainable development.
The conceptualisation and measurement of poverty and related notions of
vulnerability and capability deprivation, have become increasingly
sophisticated in recent decades. It is now widely accepted that poverty is
relative (defined in terms of a particular spatial, cultural and temporal
context) and multi-dimensional, encompassing lack of social as well as
material resources. However, in contrast to the notion of ‘social exclusion’,
contemporary measures of poverty tend to be restricted to distributional
(rather than relational) resources, and to focus on the individual and
household levels.
Whilst poverty continues to dominate the policy agenda in many low
income countries/regions, eurocentric conceptual approaches have been
challenged, in particular through Chambers’ work on vulnerability and
Sen’s work on capabilities. In response to such critiques, since 1990, the
UNDP has produced the Human Development Index, a composite measure
of life expectancy, educational attainment and income, and more recently,
a Human Poverty Index which adopts a relative rather than absolute
approach. In contrast, the World Bank promotes an absolute measure of
poverty and continues to set the extreme poverty line at $US1/day
Despite criticisms that this level is now out of step with increases in
commodity prices/costs of living and should be increased to $2 per day at
a minimum, it is still widely adopted by policy makers focused on
international poverty reduction targets e.g. Millennium Development
Goals.
Social capital is a relational concept which, like social exclusion, has
received much attention in recent years and is highly contested. Leading
theories differ as to the nature, role and benefits of social capital. The
operationalisation and measurement of social capital reflects these
controversies including: a lack of theoretical and definitional clarity;
contested choices of indicators and levels of measurement; reliance on
self-reports; and limited transferability.
In contrast to social exclusion, the relationship between social capital
(defined in terms of relationships of trust and reciprocity) and population
health/health inequalities has been widely theorised and is the subject of
extensive empirical study. Research linking social capital to health
outcomes is controversial whilst qualitative research has highlighted
Social exclusion literature review September 08
38
barriers to the acquisition of social capital in disadvantaged communities.
More generally, the concept within the Putnamesque approach is criticised
as emanating from the liberal traditions of utilitarianism and individualism,
and for distracting attention for the political and economic causes of
inequalities.
A pre-requisite for any analysis of the relationship between ‘social
exclusion’ ‘poverty’ and/or ‘social capital’ is clarity of ideological and
theoretical position and definition. Care should be taken to avoid defining,
measuring, and interpreting these concepts interchangeably.
Social exclusion literature review September 08
74
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Social Issues and Policy Review, Vol. 10, No. 1, 2016, pp. 181--211
Norm Perception as a Vehicle for Social Change
Margaret E. Tankard∗ and Elizabeth Levy Paluck
Princeton University
How can we change social norms, the standards describing typical or desirable behavior?
Because individuals’ perceptions of norms guide their personal behavior,
influencing these perceptions is one way to create social change. And yet individuals
do not form perceptions of typical or desirable behavior in an unbiased manner.
Individuals attend to select sources of normative information, and their resulting
perceptions rarely match actual rates of behavior in their environment. Thus,
changing social norms requires an understanding of how individuals perceive
norms in the first place. We describe three sources of information that people use
to understand norms—individual behavior, summary information about a group,
and institutional signals. Social change interventions have used each source to
influence perceived norms and behaviors, including recycling, intimate-partner
violence, and peer harassment. We discuss conditions under which influence over
perceived norms is likely to be stronger, based on the source of the normative
information and individuals’ relationship to the source. Finally, we point to future
research and suggest when it is most appropriate to use a norm change strategy
in the interest of behavior and social change.
Researchers, policymakers, and practitioners do their best to measure actual
rates of behaviors in a community, such as the number of people who engage in
recycling, domestic violence, voting, or peer harassment. These rates are often
discussed as the community’s “norm”—e.g., “it is the norm to recycle here; most
citizens recycle,” or, “domestic violence is not normative in this community; only
2% of residents report that domestic violence is acceptable.”
Psychologists focus on measuring a different kind of norm—not the actual
norm, but community members’ subjective perceptions of the norm. There are
two reasons for this focus on subjective perceptions. First, unlike statisticians and
policymakers, the average person does not know the actual rates of behaviors or
opinions in their community, such as recycling or approval of domestic violence.
∗Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to Margaret E. Tankard [e-mail:
mtankard@princeton.edu].
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C 2016 The Society for the Psychological Study of Social Issues
182 Tankard and Paluck
Individuals’ subjective perceptions of norms are not derived directly from a comprehensive
survey or a census. Instead, individuals have subjective perceptions of
norms, based on their unique and local experience. They attend to select sources
of normative information, and their resulting perceptions rarely match actual rates
of behavior in their environment. Second, subjective perceptions of norms can
guide individuals’ opinions and behaviors. Thus, when psychologists attempt to
change actual norms in a community, they design interventions that target community
members’ perceptions of these norms. In this paper, when we discuss
“norms,” we will be referring to these subjective perceptions, not to actual norms.
Our hope is that a better understanding of the origins, function, and stability of
perceived norms will lead to interventions that are able to ultimately change actual
norms—that is, actual community-wide patterns of behavior.
This review highlights when and why psychologists view norm perception as a
vehicle for social change. We review interventions that were designed to influence
individuals’ perceptions of the norm so as to change their behavior. Most of these
interventions were levied at individuals, and outcomes were measured in terms of
their individual opinion and behavior change. Few investigators have studied how
these kinds of interventions “scale up” to change community-wide perceptions
of norms and behavior (Allcott, 2011; Paluck, Shepherd, & Aronow, in press).
Researchers have proposed various models for how individual-level interventions
might scale to a community level, via a change in a critical proportion of individuals
or following a certain degree of change among community members (e.g., Valente,
2005). Evaluating these different models is beyond the scope of this review. We
focus on changes in perceived norms and behaviors at the individual level to
understand processes that could have implications for the collective level.
A few basic observations about human sociality and psychology remind us
why individuals have subjective perceptions of the norms in their community,
and cannot directly perceive actual rates of behavior or opinion. Individuals have
limited attention and access to information about what others do and think. They
may not interact with everyone in their community, nor interact to the same
degree, which limits their direct observation of, for example, how many community
members recycle. Individuals can only observe what other community members
do in public, and they have unreliable information about what others actually
think. But even if individuals could observe the behaviors and opinions of all their
fellow community members, they may still draw incorrect conclusions about what
is common. People are egocentric thinkers (Ross, Greene, & House, 1977): they
may extrapolate from their own behavior when thinking about others, and conclude
that their community members’ recycling behavior is similar to their own. People
are also cognitive misers (Fiske & Taylor, 1984): they may use mental shortcuts,
and generalize the recycling behavior of a community member who is easy to call
to mind to the behavior of all community members.
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Despite these limitations on perception, individuals are motivated to understand
what is normative in the communities to which they belong. This motivation
arises from distinct but related desires to be accurate about social facts, to feel
that they belong to their community, and to avoid social rejection from their community
for deviating too far from the norm (Blanton & Christie, 2003; Cialdini &
Goldstein, 2004). Individuals’ subjective perceptions of norms become a reality
and a guide for their own behavior, even when the perceptions are inaccurate.
Adherence to a perceived norm, therefore, is a more complex psychological
phenomenon than simple observational learning (Bandura, 1971) or behavioral
mimicry (Chartrand & Bargh, 1999).
To change behavior, many psychologists attempt to influence perceptions of
norms rather than other precursors to behavior, such as attitudes. Distinguishing
attitude change from norm change is critical, because they involve different
strategies and have different results. Attitude change campaigns attempt to change
how you feel about a behavior (“I love recycling”), as opposed to norm change
campaigns that attempt to change your perception of others’ feelings or behaviors
(“Recycling is really common in my town” or “The majority of people in my
town love recycling”). Psychologists sometimes prioritize normative influence
over attitudinal influence because individuals’ normative perceptions can be more
malleable than their attitudes. An individual’s attitudes may have developed over
a long time and may be closely linked to personal experience or to other welldeveloped
beliefs, such as religious or political ideology. Attempts to counteract
personal experience or longstanding beliefs can be more difficult, and may also
take more time and thus expense. Additionally, changed attitudes are not always
reliable precursors to changed behaviors (Wicker, 1969).
Rather than attempting to change attitudes, social change interventions can
focus on shaping community members’ perceptions of the norm. Norm change
interventions can make use of the fact that individuals perceive norms using
certain types of input from their environment; in particular, other individuals’
public behavior, summary information about a group, and institutional signals.
Instead of persuading individuals that recycling is important and hoping that they
will then recycle, a norm change intervention may, for example, expose people to
a popular peer who recycles, provide people with information that most of their
peers recycle, or advertise new recycling guidelines from an important and trusted
community institution.
For the rest of this review, we describe three key sources of norm perception
that norm change interventions target––individual behavior, group summary information,
and institutional signals. We discuss interventions that use one of these
sources to modify behavior through changes in perceived norms. Characteristics
of these three sources of norm perception and individuals’ relationship to each
source can determine whether norms and behavior will change. As we review
these conditions under which norms and behavior are most likely to change, we
184 Tankard and Paluck
offer ideas for modifying normative information in the environment. We focus
on individuals, to examine the psychological processes that lead to shifts in their
perceptions of norms and in their subsequent behavior. In the interest of goals
to scale these normative interventions to reach entire communities, we highlight
the social processes that may diffuse perceived norms and behavior throughout
a community. There is a great deal that we do not yet know about influencing
perceptions of norms, and the outcomes of norm change interventions. We end
by suggesting the most important next steps for research, and proposing ideas
about when it is most appropriate to use a norm change strategy in the interest of
behavior and social change.
The Subjective and Dynamic Perception of Norms
Psychologists have long demonstrated the human tendency to bring our behavior
in line with social norms (e.g., Asch, 1952; Sherif, 1936), which are defined
as our perceptions of what is typical or desirable in a group or in a situation (Miller
& Prentice, 1996). Humans are especially motivated to understand and to follow
the norms of groups that we belong to and care about, known as reference groups.
A reference group’s norms may be influential for some behaviors and not others
(Miller & Prentice, 1996). For example, when college students decide whether
and how much to drink, they are more likely to consider the norms of their peer
reference group (their fellow college students) than the norms of their parents
(Perkins, 2002), even though they may prioritize their parents’ views for other
kinds of decisions.
Individuals learn about the norms of their reference groups over time, updating
their impressions as they interact with their group or learn about their group
through other sources. In other words, norm perception is a dynamic process—
norms are not static rules for behavior, learned once and internalized for posterity
(Miller & Prentice, 1996; Paluck & Shepherd, 2012). The public behavior of
individuals in our reference group (learned by direct personal observation or
indirectly by gossip or rumor), summary information about group opinions and
behavior (indicated by the group’s voting tallies, or other announcements about
the group), and institutional systems (indicated by public rules, punishments, and
rewards) all update our impressions of what the group typically does or what the
group values. For example, when a person notices a group member recycling,
reads a trend story in a newspaper about how a growing majority of her peers
recycle, or learns about a new rule requiring recycling in her community, she
infers that recycling is typical and desirable for her group. When she too recycles
or discusses that she favors recycling with other group members, her behavior then
serves as information about the norm as well, forming a cyclical pattern in which
norms are reproduced over time (Paluck & Shepherd, 2012; see also Markus &
Kitayama, 2010).
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Because normative perception is a dynamic process, there are many opportunities
to shape its course. To influence perceptions about what behaviors are
typical and desirable for a reference group, interventions can change certain group
members’ public behaviors, present new summary information about the group,
and issue new signals from institutions that are important to the group.
Sources of Norm Perception
Group Members’ Behavior Can Shape Perceptions of Norms
The behavior and expressed opinions of other individuals are a major source
of information about norms for a group or situation. Previous research has argued
that certain individuals, called social referents, are particularly influential over
others’ perceptions of norms (Paluck et al., in press; Rogers, 1962). Individuals
weight social referents’ behavior more heavily than others’ behavior when they
form their impressions of the norms of their reference group. Social referents are
psychologically salient—their beliefs and behaviors are simply noticed more than
others. They may or may not be high in status and may or may not be leaders. Their
salience derives from their personal connections to the perceiver, and their number
of connections throughout the group. Our research has specifically identified these
influential individuals as being widely known across a group’s social network or
within a clique inside of the network (Paluck & Shepherd, 2012; Paluck et al., in
press; Shepherd & Paluck, 2015).
In a field experiment conducted by Paluck and Shepherd (2012), social referents
in an American high school were identified at the start of the school year using
social network analysis. Specifically, all students at the school answered the question,
“Which students at this school did you choose to spend time with this past
week?” Social referents were subsequently identified as students with the highest
number of nominations from other students across the network (“widely knowns”)
or students with high numbers of nominations from a closed cluster of students
within the network (“clique leaders”). The investigators randomly assigned a subset
of these social referent students to be trained to model antiharassment behaviors
during the rest of the school year. For example, the antiharassment social referents
were encouraged to speak at a school assembly about the importance of refraining
from the cycle of conflict, perform skits to illustrate ways of speaking out against
harassment, talk to peers about ways to report harassment, and sell wristbands with
an antiharassment message (social referents who were not randomly assigned to
the intervention were not encouraged to do anything). Analyses of all students’
reported norms and behavior at the end of the year demonstrated that students with
more social network ties (i.e., with more face-to-face or online exposure) to the
antiharassment social referents were more likely to perceive that harassment was
186 Tankard and Paluck
not considered desirable by other students at their school, and were less likely to
be disciplined for peer conflict according to school records.
Ideas about the power of influential individuals to shape social norms have
long been discussed in the literature on diffusion of innovations. In this literature,
influential individuals are the early adopters of new ideas and practices, adopting
them from sources such as the mass media and propagating them throughout
their social network via personal endorsements (Katz & Lazarsfeld, 1955; Rogers,
1962). Many programs, such as interventions promoting healthy behaviors, seek to
identify these early adopters through diverse methods such as surveys, nominations
from group members, or group observation (e.g., Banerjee, Chandrasekhar, Duflo,
& Jackson, 2014). Diffusion-of-innovation programs provide these individuals
with materials to disseminate among their groups to promote new norms and
behaviors (Valente & Pumpuang, 2007).
Economists have found that individuals’ engagement with new services such
as agricultural technology, insurance, and retirement plans can increase their peers’
engagement with the service (e.g., BenYishay & Mobarak, 2014; Cai, de Janvry,
& Sadoulet, 2015; Duflo & Saez, 2003). However, some studies find the peer
influence to be short-lived, or find that peers also learn from seeing the negative
experiences of individuals who adopt a new service (e.g., Ahuja, Kremer, &
Zwane, 2010; Miller & Mobarak, 2014). These studies do not measure the effects
of service adoption on peers’ perceived norms; in some cases the observed peer
influence may be driven more by learning new information from a peer. The studies
are consistent, however, with the prediction that early adopters can introduce and
diffuse new norms across their social network.
In some cases, individuals become sources of normative information through
a position of leadership. While leaders may shift group members’ behavior by
demanding obedience, they also have the power to shift group behavior by shaping
group norms. A body of research on leadership and social identity proposes that
leaders influence group norms to the extent that the leader is perceived to be
legitimate, fair, and prototypical of the group (Hogg, 2010). To be prototypical
of a group is to be considered a good reflection of the group identity, and similar
to many group members. Under these conditions, a leader who is “leading by
example” is interpreted as reflecting the norms of the group as they are or as they
should be (Drouvelis & Nosenzo, 2013; Hogg & Reid, 2006). Having a leadership
position may coincide with being a prototypical group member in some cases, but
not others. However, both of these qualities are predicted to render an individual
important, relevant, and salient to their fellow group members, and thus a source
of information about group norms (Hogg, 2010).
In an organizational context, for example, leaders have the potential to influence
subordinate employees’ behavior via the employees’ understanding of
workplace norms, without directly asking employees to change their behavior.
Observational research has demonstrated that by engaging in proenvironmental
Vehicle for Social Change 187
behaviors such as turning off lights that are not in use or printing double-sided,
a leader demonstrates to employees that these behaviors are expected and valued
(Robertson & Barling, 2013). Similarly, the design firm IDEO seeks to shape
leaders’ collaborative behavior in order to signal that collaborative help is part of
the “culture” of its work environment (Amabile, Fisher, & Pillemer, 2014). During
a typical team brainstorming session at IDEO, a leader who is not critical to
the meeting is advised to make an appearance to contribute to the brainstorming,
thereby demonstrating to the group that helping behavior is desirable at the firm
(Amabile et al., 2014).
Social referents can also be fictional. Research from psychology and communication
suggests that the behavior of fictional characters in books, movies, and
television may inform audience members’ ideas about the kinds of behavior that
are typical or desirable in their actual communities (Singhal, Cody, Rogers, &
Sabido, 2003). Fictional social referents are particularly influential when they resemble
people from the audience’s actual reference group. Researchers and media
practitioners have capitalized on this hypothesis and have purposefully attempted
to change norms through fictional narratives. Sometimes termed “edutainment”
(educational entertainment), they incorporate characters who model healthy, respectful,
or safe behaviors into popular media programs (Singhal & Rogers, 2002).
The programs are a form of so-called social norms marketing, because the normative
behavior is marketed to a large audience, ideally in a subtle, nonobtrusive
manner that parallels the way individuals observe the behavior of social referents
in real life (Paluck & Ball, 2010). When a media-based narrative is known to be
popular, i.e., to be liked by many other people, its characters are expected to be
particularly powerful social referents, in the same way that widely known or prototypical
individuals in real life reference groups are influential over perceptions
of social norms (Chwe, 2003).
For example, radio soap operas in Rwanda and in eastern Democratic Republic
of Congo (DRC) have aimed to reduce conflict by depicting likable characters
engaging in behaviors such as starting a youth coalition for peace and developing
friendships across group boundaries (Paluck, 2009; Paluck, 2010). In a field
experiment in Rwanda, one year of randomly assigned exposure to a reconciliationthemed
radio soap opera, relative to a control soap opera about health, changed
listeners’ perceived norms and behaviors with respect to issues such as open
dissent and cooperation (Paluck, 2009).
Social referents and leaders are not the only individuals in the group who
can influence norm perception and behavior. Other group members may influence
perceived norms, particularly when their public behavior calls attention to existing
norms. In this case, the behavior of the observed individual brings the norm into
“focus” (Cialdini, Reno, & Kallgren, 1990); their behavior reminds perceivers of
the norm and demonstrates that the norm is relevant to the immediate situation or
context (see also Krupka & Weber, 2009). This normative reminder and behavioral
188 Tankard and Paluck
influence may happen when an observed individual acts in compliance with the
norm or, potentially more powerfully, when the individual punishes another person
for deviating from the norm.
In a series of studies, Cialdini, Reno, and Kallgren (1990) manipulated
whether participants were in an environment where littering was descriptively
normative or not, and then manipulated norm salience through an actor’s littering
behavior. In environments where littering was normative (there was already
a great deal of trash on the ground), a stranger who littered in front of the participant
increased the participant’s own norm-consistent littering behavior. The
same effect did not occur when the environment was clean—when littering was
counter-normative. Clearly, the norm-consistent behavior cannot be attributed to
behavioral mimicry, since participants did not adopt the actor’s littering behavior
when littering was at odds with the preexisting norm of the situation.
As Cialdini et al.’s (1990) experiments demonstrate, a preexisting norm can be
signaled by the physical environment. Broken windows theory posits that physical
disarray and petty crime––such as vandalism, broken windows on buildings, and
abandoned cars––induce the sense that disorder is common and accepted in a
community, which in turn leads to higher rates of crime (Kelling & Wilson, 1982;
Zimbardo, 1969). The theory led to policy changes in major American cities, but
analysts have characterized the cleanup efforts as peripheral to the cities’ lowered
rates of crime (Harcourt & Ludwig, 2006; Levitt & Dubner, 2005). However, six
field experimental trials in Amsterdam recently demonstrated that street disorder
(operationalized as graffiti and abandoned shopping carts) in a normatively tidy
environment led to higher rates of other kinds of public norm violations from
pedestrians passing by, such as littering and stealing money from an envelope
hanging out of a mailbox (Keizer, Lindenberg, & Steg, 2008). Leaving aside
the veracity of broken windows theory, these studies combined with Cialdini
et al.’s (1990) experiments point to the importance of seeing vivid or face-to-face
examples of other individuals’ norm-consistent behavior, and to the power of
combined sources of normative information from group members and from the
physical context (see also Croson & Shang, 2010; Martin & Randal, 2008).
As mentioned above, individuals can also make a norm salient by punishing
someone who deviates from it. This punishment can take the form of a social
sanction, such as distancing oneself from the deviant individual, or other kinds of
physical or material sanctions. Experiments by game theorists show that individuals
are willing to use their own money to punish others who go against a norm
of cooperation (Sigmund, 2010). Players who observe this punishment are more
likely to cooperate and less likely to defect in subsequent rounds. In randomly
assigned public buses in Kenya, Habyarimana, and Jack (2011) posted a sign that
encouraged passengers to heckle drivers of minibuses who were driving unsafely.
Passengers’ heckling acted as social punishment to enforce a safe driving norm,
Vehicle for Social Change 189
and was successful in reducing insurance claims involving injury or death for
minibuses in the treatment group.
Information about Groups Can Shape Perceptions of Norms
In addition to group members’ behavior, summary information about the opinions
or behaviors of a reference group can influence individuals’ perceptions of
group norms. This information is often presented or implied through social media
statistics, newspaper reports, and marketing campaigns. Even warning signs can
imply what group members are doing through a request to stop doing something.
Psychologists frequently study social norm influence by manipulating summary
information about the group.
Presenting summary information about a group is in some ways the most
straightforward manipulation of a perceived norm, given that individual norm perception
is a psychological representation of summary information, for example:
how many people recycle, how often my group recycles, how positively my group
feels about recycling, and how many people in my group feel positively about recycling.
Some interventions aimed at influencing norms simply present individuals
with new summary information about the group, hoping to replace the individual’s
personal and subjective representation with this summary information. This
kind of intervention is a form of social norms marketing. Social norms marketing
includes information about the group’s behavior or opinions distributed through
posters, online or newspaper advertisements, community events, television commercials,
flyers, email, or other mass communication materials (e.g., Perkins &
Craig, 2006; Turner, Perkins, & Bauerle, 2008).
A long and well-known line of research tests the effects of advertising
summary information about a group’s environmental behaviors. In one classic
study (Cialdini et al., 2006), visitors to Arizona’s Petrified Forest National Park
were randomly assigned to view one of four different signs on a walking trail,
stating that “[m]any past visitors have removed the petrified wood from the
park” (p. 8), stating that “the vast majority of past visitors have left the petrified
wood in the park” (p. 8), or pleading with them to leave the petrified wood or
to refrain from removing it. Visitors who saw the sign that alerted them to the
stealing problem (“many past visitors have removed the petrified wood from the
park”) stole on average more petrified wood souvenirs from the trail compared
to visitors who saw the other signs. While the intuition to alert groups to bad
behavior in their environment is strong and sensible, the social norms perspective
shows that these warnings work to portray the negative behavior as descriptively
normative, thereby licensing the norm-compliant negative behavior—in this
study, stealing wood. Other examples of negative summary information from the
policy world include billboards warning people in postconflict zones that rape
is prevalent in their community. According to Cialdini’s research, this kind of
190 Tankard and Paluck
summary information would be expected to have the opposite intended effect by
the billboard’s creators (Paluck & Ball, 2010). Descriptive norms, which describe
typical behaviors, are a double-edged sword, as we will discuss later.
By the same token, describing positive behaviors as typical can promote the
behaviors that interventionists desire. Goldstein, Cialdini, and Griskevicius (2008)
found that a sign providing hotel guests with the descriptive norm that most guests
(specifically, “almost 75%”) reuse their towels led to greater towel reuse than the
same sign providing a standard message stressing the importance of environmental
protection (see also van der Linden, 2013). Gerber and Rogers (2009) conducted
two “get out the vote” phone-based experiments in New Jersey and California.
In one condition, the phone script read by callers notified participants that voter
turnout in their state was low and decreasing, and in the other condition, the script
conveyed that voter turnout was high and increasing. The script conveying high
turnout led to greater reported intention to vote among participants. Likewise, providing
college students with summary information about fellow students’ high or
low endorsement of racial stereotypes changed participants’ own endorsement of
those stereotypes in the direction of the norm (Stangor, Sechrist, & Jost, 2001; see
Mackie & Smith, 1998). Students who were led to believe that their stereotypes
were in line with other students’ level of stereotype endorsement were also more
resistant to an attempt at changing their own endorsement. Other studies have
shown that summary information about peers’ accurate and timely tax payments
(Behavioural Insights Team, 2012; Coleman, 1996) and peers’ organ donation registration
(Behavioural Insights Team, 2013) led individuals to bring their behavior
in line with the norm.
In Colombia, Tankard, Paluck, and Prentice (2014) are conducting a field
experiment to test the effectiveness of normative (vs. individual-oriented) information
to encourage low-income women to work toward personal goals by saving
their money in a bank account. Women who were offered a savings account
were informed during the initial savings account offer and in subsequent SMS
reminders that the savings account is common and valued among women like them
(normative version), or that it is a valuable individual project for them (individualoriented
version). Differences in savings rates between these two randomly
assigned savings-account groups, the normative and the individual-oriented, can
reveal whether providing summary information about a reference group increases
women’s engagement with financial interventions in comparison to individualized
encouragement to save. Notably, in this environment savings accounts are not
currently common, so this study tests the introduction of a new norm. This intervention
is an example of how a norms intervention could target behavior that may
trigger desired downstream changes, in this case changes in women’s self-efficacy,
decision-making power, and experience of intimate-partner violence.
One innovation psychologists have studied is the presentation of personalized
information about an individual’s own behavior in comparison to the norm (i.e.,
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social comparison information). Specifically, these norm change interventions
draw a comparison between an individual’s behavior and the average behavior
of his or her reference group. A number of social comparison interventions have
been deployed with the hopes of reducing individuals’ energy use (Allcott &
Mullainathan, 2010). In these studies, residents are presented with descriptive
norms about the recent electricity consumption of their neighbors as compared to
their own. A number of large-scale randomized controlled trials find that this normative
information motivates individuals to decrease their electricity consumption
so as to meet normative standards (Allcott, 2011; Costa & Kahn, 2013; Schultz,
Nolan, Cialdini, Goldstein, & Griskevicius, 2007).
It is important to note other potential limitations of social comparison information
about norms. Descriptive norm information can backfire if individuals
are out-performing the descriptive norm or already perceive the norm to be even
further in the desired direction than the newly provided information. For example,
individuals in Schultz et al.’s study (2007) actually began to use more electricity
if they learned that they were using less electricity than the presented norm
of their neighbors (see also Bhargava & Manoli, 2015; Fellner, Sausgruber, &
Traxler, 2013). Adding evaluative feedback can eliminate this boomerang effect.
For example, adding a smiley face image to indicate approval of the individual’s
high energy-saving performance relative to the presented norm prevented those
individuals from using more energy following the personalized norm intervention
(Schultz et al., 2007).
Social comparison information has also been used to reduce unhealthy behaviors
such as binge drinking and drug use. Adolescents and college students often
misperceive binge drinking and drug use as highly valued by their peers (Perkins,
Meilman, Leichliter, Cashin, & Presley, 1999; Prentice & Miller, 1993). This form
of false inference about peer attitudes based on one’s perception of the norm is
a form of pluralistic ignorance. Pluralistic ignorance is a phenomenon in which
individuals comply with a norm but privately reject it, while assuming that other
people’s public compliance with the norm is indicative of their supportive private
attitudes (Miller & McFarland, 1991; Prentice & Miller, 1993).
In a field experimental intervention aimed at deconstructing pluralistic ignorance,
Schroeder and Prentice (1998) assigned college students to participate in
one of two types of discussion groups about alcohol use. One type of discussion
focused on individual decisions about alcohol use, and the other type exposed the
pluralistic ignorance phenomenon by focusing on the relation between peer pressure
to drink and individual decisions about alcohol use. Four to six months later,
students who participated in the pluralistic ignorance (vs. individual-oriented)
discussion reported drinking less. This early study paved the way for many subsequent
interventions combining personal feedback about a participant’s own
behavior with information about how others actually behave, to address drinking
behavior among college students (Lewis & Neighbors, 2006) and later, to address
192 Tankard and Paluck
other health issues like sun tanning (Reid & Aiken, 2013). These types of social
comparison interventions are often delivered through media such as mailings and
web-based programs (e.g., Collins, Carey, & Sliwinski, 2002; Doumas, Haustveit,
& Coll, 2010).
Thus far we have reviewed interventions that give individuals private feedback
comparing their behavior with a group norm. Other interventions rely on public
feedback, and specifically on the motivational social pressure that is triggered
by the awareness that group members will be alerted to your degree of compliance
with an existing norm. For example, Gerber, Green, and Larimer (2008)
found that voter turnout in an election was highest among individuals who were
told that their participation in an election would be publicized to neighbors, compared
to individuals who were told that their household would privately receive
their voting record, who were told that their turnout records were being monitored,
or who were reminded of their civic duty to vote. This intervention and those that
replicated the effect later (Davenport et al., 2010; Mann, 2010; Sinclair, 2012) relied
on the existence of a strong prescriptive norm (implying favorable judgment,
not just typicality, of the voting behavior). Rather than shaping a new perception
of a norm about voting, it assumes that people believe it is shameful to be revealed
to others as a nonvoter.
Bursztyn and Jensen (2015) conducted a related study in which U.S. high
school students who were enrolled in both honors and nonhonors classes were
offered an online SAT preparatory course. If they were offered the course during
one of their honors classes, they were more likely to sign up if the decision to
do so was public, compared to if the decision was private. Critically, when such
students were offered the course during one of their nonhonors classes, they were
less likely to sign up if the decision to do so was public, compared to private. These
effects were larger for students who believed it was important to be popular in their
school, supporting the explanation that students’ decisions were driven by their
desire to act in line with what they perceived to be accepted behavior in the relevant
setting. The negative effect of making the behavior public in nonhonors classes
points to the importance of attaching public feedback to an existing prescriptive
norm that is already in the desired direction.
Institutional Signals Can Shape Perceptions of Norms
A third source of normative information in the environment comes from institutions
that govern, educate, or organize a reference group and their social
interactions, such as governments, schools, and the mass media (Getzels & Guba,
1957; Hodgson, 2006; Silverblatt, 2004). An institution’s decisions and innovations
can signal which behaviors or opinions are common or desirable in a group.
Institutions may change perceptions of norms directly, as when individuals make a
direct inference about norms based on an institutional signal. Institutions can also
Vehicle for Social Change 193
change perceptions of norms indirectly, as when individuals observe a change in
the incidence of a behavior due to an institutional change, and update their understanding
of norms accordingly. We categorize this source of normative information
as coming from institutions rather than from social referent leaders because many
institutional actions are not identifiable with a sole leader, but rather with the
institution in general, such as a ruling from a court. Like the other sources of normative
information we have discussed, institutions both communicate norms and
are affected by norms (Hodgson, 2006; Markus & Kitayama, 2010). For example,
because one function of the law is to express social norms, institutions such as legal
systems can fruitfully prescribe certain social norms in order to move individuals’
behavior in a desired noncriminal direction (Sunstein, 1996).
Although theoretical ideas about how institutions can signal new norms are
intriguing, empirical support for causal change is currently lacking. Scholars
studying institutional influence study changes in individuals’ behavior and opinion
following institutional change, but have not directly measured perceived norms as
part of the change process. The extent to which perceived norms may be involved
in this change process is an area for future investigation. For now, we review
hypotheses regarding the relationship between institutional signals, individuals’
perceptions of norms, and behavior.
Theories of social identity and the law lead us to expect that institutions are
particularly effective sources of normative information when the members of the
groups that they represent view them as legitimate. Indeed, the hypotheses that
we discuss here likely apply only when the institution is perceived to be legitimate.
Legitimacy has been defined as the combination of people’s authorization of the
institution to determine appropriate behavior, and people’s trust that the institution
will represent the interests of the group (Tyler & Jackson, 2014). Similar to an
individual who is prototypical of a group, an institution that is perceived to represent
or serve a group well gains credibility as a source of normative information
(Hogg, 2010). For example, group members may infer that public support already
exists for newer opinions and behaviors advertised by the institution (we discuss
some examples below). Similar to the logic of highly connected individual social
referents, part of institutional normative influence may also come from individuals’
awareness that institutions are highly visible and simultaneously observed by
many group members at once (Chwe, 2003).
The mass media is one example of an institutional source of normative information.
Part of the perceived legitimacy of the mass media derives from individuals’
belief that it is run by a society’s elites (Zaller, 1992). Another part of
the mass media’s influence may stem from individuals’ implicit understanding
that mainstream media seeks to give the public what they want (Lazarsfeld &
Merton, 1948; Zaller, 1999). Finally, new kinds of “crowdsourced” media sites
like Wikipedia, where members of the public contribute content, may reinforce
individuals’ belief that the media reflects the beliefs and behaviors of the public
194 Tankard and Paluck
(cf. Hindman, 2009). For these reasons, when mass media airs unorthodox content,
such as transgender characters on television, consumers may infer that the content
is publicly supported, in this case that transgender people are more numerous or
accepted in society (Organ, 2010).
Institutional support for or denouncements of certain behaviors are not necessarily
enough to influence perceptions of norms, or indeed to change actual rates
of behavior (e.g., Pruckner & Sausgruber, 2013). When the Chinese government
first denounced foot-binding in 1902 and 1912, the practice did not decline until
other movements sprang up to socially reinforce the law (Appiah, 2010). Scholars
debate whether court decisions are effective at bringing about changes in public
opinion or behavior, with some suggesting they are not (Rosenberg, 2008) and
others suggesting that they are effective when political movements coexist to mobilize
individuals following the decision (Schacter, 2009). For example, Schacter
finds little support for the idea that public opinion at the point of a court decision
can alone determine how the public will respond to the ruling. The Roe v. Wade
decision striking down abortion laws in 1973 was made during a time of rapid
increases in public support for legalized elective abortion. Yet given the existence
of antiabortion groups that were prepared to mobilize against a ruling, the court
decision helped to fuel the antiabortion movements in the decades that followed
(Persily, Egan, & Wallsten, 2006). Notably, these institutional studies have not related
court rulings and national laws to perceptions of social norms, which would
help to inform our hypotheses about the process by which institutions may inform
individuals’ ideas about what is typical and desirable in their society.
Some research does suggest that institutions provide normative information
through decisions and guidance. Although most citizens are not aware of and do
not understand specific laws or rulings (Robinson & Darley, 2003), when institutions
are legitimate, citizens may infer that the decisions of lawmakers comply
with or drive the direction of the society (Jackson et al., 2012; Tyler & Jackson,
2014). For example, qualitative work has demonstrated that after a university administration
introduced a ban on outdoor smoking on campus, students viewed
smoking as less common and accepted at the school (Procter-Scherdtel & Collins,
2013). Students may infer directly from the ban that smoking must not be normative
and indirectly that smoking is less normative because they observe fewer
people smoking on campus. In another domain, individuals perceived Americans
to be more supportive of same-sex marriage following a U.S. Supreme Court
decision in support of same-sex marriage (Tankard & Paluck, 2015). Additional
research directly measuring changes in perceived norms following court decisions
is needed.
Another way that institutions may influence perceptions of norms is through
default or anchor choices for the group (Thaler & Sunstein, 2008). For example,
a substantially larger proportion of citizens become organ donors when being an
organ donor is presented as the “opt-out” default option rather than an “opt-in”
Vehicle for Social Change 195
choice that an individual must actively make (Johnson & Goldstein, 2003). When
such a behavioral choice is made easily available via suggestion or “anchoring,”
or is made automatic via a default, the vast majority of people choose that option
because it takes more cognitive processing to adjust away from the choice than to
accept it (Tversky & Kahneman, 1974). However, anchors and defaults may be
powerful for another reason. Individuals may infer that an institution has set the
behavior as the anchor or default because it is a typical or desirable behavioral
choice for their group (Haggag & Paci, 2014; Johnson & Goldstein, 2003).
Institutions may also change perceived norms through innovation. When an
institution introduces a new system or method, group members may infer that a
certain level of momentum and support must exist to favor the change. For example,
institutions that have recently included “transgender” as an option in addition to
“male” and “female” on a form may lead group members to infer that transgender
people are more numerous in the group and are more accepted by the group,
compared to group members who only see “male” or “female” on a form (Tankard,
Wu, & Paluck, 2015). Likewise, reserving political seats for women in India
may signal that societal norms about gender roles are changing, although norms
have not been directly measured in randomized controlled studies demonstrating
that reservations for women do increase approval of female politicians (Beaman,
Chattopadhyay, Duflo, Pande, & Topalova, 2012).
Thus far, we have reviewed three sources of information that inform individuals’
perceptions of norms for a particular group: individual group members’
behavior, summary information about the group, and institutional signals. We now
turn to the conditions under which these sources of normative information may be
particularly influential, meaning effective for influencing individuals’ perceived
norms and behavior and ultimately for leading to broader change across the social
group.
When Are Norms and Behaviors Most Likely to Shift?
In this section, we identify five conditions under which interventions to shift
norms and behaviors are likely to be more powerful. Not all conditions need to
be met for a successful norm change intervention. We note when these various
conditions have moderated the impact of interventions from various research
projects to shift norms and behaviors.
When Individuals Identify with the Source of Normative Information
In general, an individual, group, or institution will only be an effective source
of normative information to the extent that a person feels identified with the source
(Festinger, 1954; Kim & Hunter, 1993; Wilder, 1990). For example, theory suggests
that feeling a sense of comfort, friendship, and resemblance with characters
196 Tankard and Paluck
in edutainment programs facilitates individuals’ acceptance of messages conveyed
by the characters (Perse & Rubin, 1989). In Prentice and Miller’s (1993) study of
pluralistic ignorance regarding drinking behavior at Princeton University, the authors
found that male students were more influenced by the campus-wide drinking
norms than female students. The authors reasoned that the prototype of Princeton
students at the time was masculine, given women’s relatively recent presence on
campus. For this reason, female students may have felt less identified than male
students with the reference group of “Princeton students,” for whom drinking was
seen as descriptively common and prescriptively approved.
These research findings raise a few key points. Individuals’ behavior is not
influenced by the norms of reference groups with which they do not feel identified.
A recent field experiment provides compelling evidence of this idea. Goode,
Balzarini, and Smith (2014) demonstrated that feeling identified with a group
affects individuals’ intention to bring their behavior in line with group norms.
Sorority members who were led to see themselves as more (vs. less) prototypical of
their group intended to drink less alcohol and reported drinking less alcohol, after
exposure to related group norms. Similarly, when Stangor et al. (2001) examined
the effects of group summary information on endorsement of racial stereotypes,
changes in endorsement were stronger when the information was about other
students at their college (their ingroup) than when it was about students at another
college (their outgroup).
Moreover, the reference group may need to be relevant to the specific behavior
targeted by an intervention (Goldstein et al., 2008). For example, to promote
adoption of a new seed technology, an appropriate reference group would be farmers
whose land is of a similar size (BenYishay & Mobarak, 2014), and to promote
enrollment in a retirement savings plan, an appropriate reference group would be
employees in a similar economic position (Beshears, Choi, Laibson, Madrian, &
Milkman, 2015). Beshears et al. (2015) found that providing information about the
savings of age-matched coworkers had the opposite intended effect of decreasing
unionized employees’ savings. The researchers concluded that these employees
may have perceived they were being compared to the wrong reference group—to
peers of higher economic status with a greater capacity to save.
These results imply an important initial process for all designers of a norm
change intervention, which is to identify the correct reference group. Identifying
the correct reference group is difficult, and requires preparatory quantitative and
qualitative research to understand which identities carry particular meaning for
the population of interest. More research is needed to test whether the extent of
norm and behavior change scales in linear fashion with an individual’s degree of
identification with the reference group.
After selecting the correct reference group, it is important for individuals to
identify with the particular source of the normative information—for example,
with the particular social referent. In our work with norm change interventions in
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schools, we select social referents who are the leaders of smaller cliques at the
school in addition to widely known students who are relatively more prototypical
of school identity. In contrast to the widely known social referents, students who
are leaders of cliques represent sub-group identities such as the “math geeks” or
the “drama kids.” Students from those cliques identify much more strongly with
their clique leaders than with the widely known social referents. As predicted, the
behavior of these clique leaders was able to change the perceptions of school-wide
social norms among students in their respective cliques to the same extent that
the widely known leaders changed perceptions of norms among their peers (Paluck
& Shepherd, 2012).
Identification with reference groups can shift over time, and one of the ways
it may change is across the lifespan. While a friend group may be a highly central
identity during adolescence, other groups such as one’s coworkers or neighbors
may be more central later in life. Other factors, such as changing geographic
locations, may also affect which reference groups are felt to be most relevant
and what normative information is easily observable about a group. Identification
with a group may not mean being physically close to other group members, but
physical proximity can affect the number of opportunities people have to observe
how group members behave. All of these observations reinforce the point that
research is needed to identify the most meaningful reference group and sources of
normative information for a population of interest before designing a norm change
intervention.
When New Norms Are Believable Representations of Group Opinions
and Behavior
New norms do not have to be accurate (i.e., identical to the true current group
opinions and behavior) in order to affect group opinions and behavior, but they
must be sufficiently believable in order to do so. New presented norms may by
design diverge from actual patterns of attitudes and behavior. For example, a university
attempting to create a more racially diverse campus climate may depict
“inflated diversity” in their brochures (Prichep, 2013). In some cases, information
about a norm may be too distant from reality to be believable and thus effective
in influencing perceptions of the norm and behavior. An extremely high level of
racial diversity depicted in a historically White college brochure, for example,
may not only appear unrealistic, but also lead individuals to resent this inaccurate
representation of the group (Prichep, 2013). Similarly, passengers in taxi cabs
were more likely to refrain altogether from tipping when the default amounts for
tips on the credit card screen were a higher range (20% / 25% / 30%) compared
to a lower range (15% / 20% / 25%), presumably because they recognized the
extremity of the suggested tips compared to their own understanding of normative
tipping amounts (Haggag & Paci, 2014). It may be tempting to design an
198 Tankard and Paluck
intervention that introduces a false norm of virtually unanimous support for a new
idea, for example by claiming that 99% of students at a school recycle. Researchers
presenting inflated or deflated normative information, however, have recognized
that normative information should be plausible, whether because it is not far from
the status quo or because it difficult for individuals to directly observe and refute
(e.g., Fellner et al., 2013; van der Linden, 2013). Another way to present normative
information as plausible is to present the norm as beginning to change,
or as experiencing momentum in a particular direction. For example: more and
more people are supporting gay marriage (Sparkman & Walton, 2015; Tankard &
Paluck, 2015). Future research could helpfully explore the psychology of judging
distance between a current norm and a change in that norm.
When the Individual’s Personal Views Are Closer to the New Normative
Information
Just as individuals judge the distance between new information about a norm
and their own current perception of the norm, they judge the distance between the
new information and their own private opinions. For example, individuals may
learn that many more people in their community are recycling compared to what
they previously thought, and they may also evaluate this information against their
own positive or negative opinions of recycling. A body of work in psychology
suggests that individuals’ behavior is more easily influenced by norms when
the individuals are already personally in favor of those norms, an effect called
licensing.
Licensing (norms validate personal opinions). Alignment between a norm
and a personal opinion licenses a person to behave in the way she already prefers
to behave (Miller & Prentice, 2013; Prentice, 2012). Public opinion polls in the
United States, for example, show that a plurality of Americans who support samesex
marriage are unaware that public support has now shifted to the majority
of Americans (Jones, Cox, & Navarro-Rivera, 2014). Awareness of this public
support may license supporters to act on their views in public. Historically, when
the practice of hiring discrimination against African-Americans was made illegal
in the American South, this new norm was in line with many employers’ private
preferences, although previously they did not voice their preferences publicly
(Lessig, 1995). The legal change gave egalitarian employers a socially acceptable
excuse to act in a way they already supported.
Experimentally, a licensing effect was demonstrated in the previously
described field experiment on drinking and pluralistic ignorance, in which
information that most college students do not drink alcohol excessively corrected
students’ impression that excessive drinking was typical and desirable on campus
(Schroeder & Prentice, 1998). This information reduced individuals’ own drinking
Vehicle for Social Change 199
by providing them with information that their peers’ views and actual alcohol
consumption were more similar to their own preferences than they previously
believed (Schroeder & Prentice, 1998; see also Lewis & Neighbors, 2006).
Thus, norm change interventions have a high likelihood of success when the
population is ready for the message. Whether because tradition or law previously
proscribed the behaviors or opinions, or because the behaviors or opinions are
not highly visible, people may be unaware that their private attitudes are actually
normative. Providing information that their attitudes are normative should change
public behaviors with relative ease. A much more difficult context is one in which
interventions have the task of motivating compliance with a norm that runs against
personal opinion.
Motivating (norms run against personal opinions). Individuals may comply
with a norm that runs against their personal opinions when the norm is perceived
to be so strong that they will be socially punished for their deviance (Blanton &
Christie, 2003; Miller & Prentice, 2013). The requirement of a strong norm to
overcome personal opinions presents a challenge for norm change interventions:
the normative information must persuade recipients that they might feel socially
isolated, awkward, or rejected for deviating from the norm. As we previously
reviewed, some interventions motivate compliance with the norm through public
announcements of deviance (e.g., Gerber, Green, & Larimer, 2008) or through
comparisons of individuals with their group (e.g., Schultz et al., 2007).
An individual’s personal opinions may not be aligned with a norm for different
reasons. For one, he may actually hold a view that is actively in opposition to
the norm. Over the past few years, U.S. residents have been exposed to many
arguments and social movements regarding same-sex marriage. If they do not
agree with the current norm of support for same-sex marriage, it is likely because
they hold a view counter to the norm. We can also imagine, however, that some
individuals have not given much thought to the issue of same-sex marriage, and
do not have a strong opinion. Ambivalence may also emerge in reaction to novel
behaviors and opinions. When recycling was introduced to the public, some people
supported it or did not support it, but others were ambivalent until they had more
experience trying to recycle, since it was such a new practice.
It can be difficult to persuade individuals to comply with a norm if they
actively oppose it (Costa & Kahn, 2013; Fellner et al., 2013). More research
is needed to understand how to use norm change interventions to influence these
individuals. If individuals are extremely high in personal opposition to an idea such
as same-sex marriage, then learning that a reference group now supports same-sex
marriage may simply lead them to distance themselves from that reference group
(see also Burks & Krupka, 2012). Prentice (2012) cites the widely known example
of pitting one strong norm against another, when norms of gentlemanly duty in
the South were invoked to end dueling. In this case, laws failed to end dueling,
200 Tankard and Paluck
revealing the difficulty of deactivating the produeling norm. Changing the penalty
for dueling to a ban from public office, which was a high cost for that population,
proved more successful to end the practice, because it activated a different norm
that was already strong. More strategies like these could be tested experimentally
to address intractable norms and behaviors.
When the New Normative Information Is Widely Shared
New information regarding norms is particularly influential if individuals
know that the information is widely shared among reference group members.
Awareness that others are also receiving the same information serves as further
proof that a particular opinion or behavior is widely recognized, enacted, or endorsed
by the group (Chwe, 2003). For example, Super Bowl audience members
are aware that commercials aired during the game are viewed by hundreds of thousands
of other people simultaneously. Opinions aired in Super Bowl commercials
are expected to be perceived as more normative, or widely endorsed, compared
to when they are aired during regular broadcasting (Chwe, 2003). Similarly, if an
individual in a social network is popular, a perceiver may infer that many others
are also looking to this popular individual to understand the norm, which is part of
the individual’s power over perceived norms in the network (Paluck & Shepherd,
2012).
A recent field experiment in Mexico directly tested the effectiveness of widely
shared information compared to privately received information in changing attitudes
and norms. Arias (2014) manipulated whether a radio soap opera relaying
rejection of violence against women was transmitted to participants individually
(by listening to a CD-rom) or socially (at a group meeting or from a community
loudspeaker). The radio program strengthened perceptions of social norms
rejecting violence against women only when the method of delivery was social,
not when it was individual. Moreover, the results suggested that knowing that
others are receiving the same content (in this case, by receiving the content from
a loudspeaker) is in itself sufficient to change attitudes and norms, even if there is
no direct social interaction with fellow recipients (as in a group meeting).
When Descriptive Norms Are Contextualized
Descriptive norms can be powerful, but as we have already reviewed, they also
run a risk of backfiring. When a problematic behavior or viewpoint is prevalent
in a context, one intuition about how to intervene is to increase awareness of
that problem. For example, posters or mailings might state that four out of five
women in a community are abused, or that the average student on a college campus
consumes five alcoholic drinks per week. Sharing these statistics, however, can
Vehicle for Social Change 201
actually end up making individuals feel that it is normal and okay to abuse women
or to drink five drinks per week, since that is what most people do.
How can we share problematic statistics without producing more problematic
behaviors, or reproducing problematic norms? One tactic is to give individuals
evaluative feedback on their position relative to the norm. In an example covered
previously, individuals were given summary information about how much energy
they use compared to other people (Schultz et al., 2007). For some individuals, their
personal consumption was lower than the group average, which could potentially
encourage them to use more energy. For these individuals, positive evaluations
(smiley faces) accompanied their feedback, encouraging them to continue using
less than the norm (see also Pruckner & Sausgruber, 2013). Similarly, if a student
tends to drink one alcoholic drink per week and learns that other people tend
to drink five, communicating approval of drinking less than the average may be
important to discourage them from beginning to drink closer to the average.
Another tactic relies on the fact that norms can be characterized in different
ways. A norm is defined by its central tendency, its dispersion (Paluck & Ball,
2010; Prentice, 2012), and the direction in which it is moving. A norm’s central
tendency represents where the average behavior or opinion is located. Two colleges
might both have a norm with a central tendency of drinking five alcoholic drinks
per week. The dispersion of the norm, however, refers to the degree to which
all group members comply with the norm—their uniformity. At one of the two
colleges in question, perhaps all students tend to consume four, five, or six drinks
per week. At the other college, it could be that students are heterogeneous: some
don’t drink at all, while others drink nine or ten drinks per week. When the central
tendency of a norm is not favorable, it can be effective to emphasize its dispersion:
many group members do not drink, or only have one or two drinks (Paluck & Ball,
2010). In other cases, students may focus on the extreme cases when forming their
perceptions of the norms, and so emphasizing the central tendency could reshape
their perception of a norm of extreme drinking: on average students only drink
five drinks per week, not ten. Describing a favorable direction in which a norm
is moving is another option: students are starting to drink fewer drinks per week
(Sparkman & Walton, 2015; Tankard & Paluck, 2015).
Recommendations for Policy Applications
Integrating norm change interventions into policy requires determining when
targeting norm perception is most appropriate in real-world settings. Norm change
interventions are not the only way to influence an individual or collective of individuals.
There are times when norm change interventions may be particularly
appropriate, when other types of interventions may be a better fit for changing
behavior, and when multiple strategies could be combined. Other interventions
include attitude persuasion interventions that focus on individuals’ personal opinions
or beliefs, educational programs, interventions that target behavior in an
202 Tankard and Paluck
entirely different way such as a “nudge” (making a behavior easier to engage in)
or “shove” (explicitly banning or requiring a behavior; Kahan, 2000), and material
incentives (e.g., Ahuja et al., 2010; Viscusi, Huber, & Bell, 2011; cf. Fehr &
Falk, 2002). Effective intervention design requires careful analysis of the problem
at hand to figure out exactly which factors are keeping people from acting in a
desired way (Datta & Mullainathan, 2012). This behavioral “diagnosis” (Datta &
Mullainathan, 2012) may reveal, for example, that people are not yet informed
about the importance of a new behavior, that they are already motivated to engage
in it but have trouble acting on their intention, or that they are already motivated
but feel socially stigmatized if they act on their intention.
Further investigation of the appropriateness of different interventions in different
behavioral contexts is a critical area for future study, but the existing literature
provides some initial guidance as to the conditions under which using normative
influence may and may not be particularly effective. When people are already
motivated to do something, such as receive a vaccine, and it is not a stigmatized
behavior, it may be appropriate to prioritize removing environmental or psychological
obstacles that are preventing people from implementing their intentions.
Channel factors are seemingly minor aspects of a situation that can either facilitate
or block behaviors (Lewin, 1951), such as whether it is easy or difficult to locate
the infirmary where one needs to go to receive a vaccine (Leventhal, Singer, &
Jones, 1965). An appropriate channel factor solution in this case may be simply
providing a map displaying the route to the infirmary.
When a behavior is not publicly observable, a norms intervention may be a
good option. Some behaviors are not typically done socially, such as checking
one’s tire pressure, and others are usually discussed in private, such as using
birth control or being screened for sexually transmitted infections (STIs). When
behaviors are not publicly visible, people’s perceptions of what is normal may be
highly skewed, because they lack good information about what others are doing. A
norms intervention can provide this information about the fact that other people are
checking their tire pressure and being screened for STIs, to encourage members
of a particular reference group to do the same. For some extremely personal
behaviors and experiences, such as experiencing relationship abuse, individuals
may not want to feel that there is an audience of other people involved in potential
courses of action (Tankard, Paluck, & Prentice, 2014). In this case, normative
information could be adapted so as to avoid the impression that an audience is
watching and judging an individual’s response to the situation.
Norm interventions may be highly appropriate when people need social
motivation or licensing to engage in a behavior, and when acting in line with
a particular reference group is important to them. If individuals do not already
support a behavior, normative information is useful to encourage them to support
and engage in the behavior. If individuals already support a behavior, normative
information is useful to remind them to engage in the behavior.
Vehicle for Social Change 203
Norm interventions take many forms. As we have discussed, researchers and
practitioners can target different sources of normative information, with some
being more appropriate and effective in different contexts. An interpersonal, inherently
social behavior such as peer harassment, for example, may require an
individual role model to communicate a new norm rather than solely targeting
summaries of group behavior or institutional change. In the context of peer harassment,
the reputation and social status of each individual in the network is on
the line, and seeing an individual model a norm of speaking out against harassment
demonstrates firsthand to a perceiver that he or she will not lose social status by
speaking up (Paluck & Shepherd, 2012). In other cases, normative information
from institutions instead of individuals or groups has its own distinct advantages. It
may not be credible to claim that members of a Greek organization do not support
hazing, for example. However, if the organization itself discourages hazing, this
action could potentially be effective in changing group norms if the institution is
respected by group members and seen as at the heart of the group.
Norm change interventions also need to be strategic about fitting norms to
the right reference group. We may be attracted to the idea of changing an entire
community’s norm, when it may be more effective to tailor messages to subgroups
within the community that have strong local identities. Norm interventions may be
less effective when there is no cohesive identity to describe. If many families all
live in the same apartment complex but do not feel a shared sense of identity, for
example, then the norms of the building may be meaningless for these families.
A larger or smaller reference group may be more appropriate in this case, such
as “residents of this city” or “members of the first floor.” If identification with a
group is not strong or interactions with other group members are infrequent, use of
mass media may be an effective way to draw individuals into a shared experience
of new norms.
Sometimes, the existing norms of a community are in the opposite direction
desired by policymakers or practitioners. As we mentioned, when the central
tendency of a norm is not favorable (average drinking rates are high), it can be
effective to emphasize its dispersion (some people don’t drink) or a direction of
change (people are starting to drink less). And when the dispersion draws attention
to extreme behaviors in a community, presenting the central tendency as the norm
can lead people to believe that extreme behaviors are counter normative. Finally,
norms can be used to increase engagement in other kinds of behavior change
interventions that are not perceived to be attractive. For example, educational
interventions could be portrayed as popular or desirable among a person’s group
members. Understanding when norm interventions, and different kinds of norm
interventions, are a good fit for different social problems is an ongoing process
that should continue to be developed as new interventions are evaluated and new
problems addressed.
Altering normative information in the environment can be a powerful
way to introduce social change. This strategy is critical for policymakers to
204 Tankard and Paluck
understand and employ. Many aspects of this strategy need further research in
order to maximize the impact of these methods. We stress the importance of
continuing field experiments that examine the effects of real world norm change
interventions, as opposed to conducting correlational analysis. Random assignment
to control and treatment groups allows investigators to isolate the effects of
norm change interventions and the downstream effects of shifted normative perceptions
on other outcomes such as behavioral and attitudinal change. Norms are
specific to the communities being studied, and thus require background research
to design normative messaging that could be expected to be effective.
Measurement of perceived norms should be more consistently incorporated
into the evaluation of social interventions, particularly interventions that involve
institutional change. In many cases there are reasonable theoretical grounds for
hypothesizing that the intervention, such as making organ donation a default
behavior, influences behavior change through a shift in perceived norms. Directly
measuring norms as an outcome is a way to open up the black box of individual
level change, and to test how a change in perceived norms relates to other outcomes.
Institutional change is inherently relevant to any policy change, and further
research on this particular topic is important to understand how new laws and
programs affect individuals’ understanding of social norms. If most citizens in
a Colombian community are aware that their government is running a program
entitled Mujeres Ahorradoras (Women Savers), the program may have a direct
effect on the women who save money through the program, but it also may
have important effects on perceived norms in the community regarding women’s
financial involvement and general level of empowerment. For example, citizens
may come to perceive that it is common and respected in their community for
women to be financially independent. On the other hand, the presence of such a
program could spread a perception that women are weak and in need of government
help. Without measuring effects on norms within the community at large, we
cannot know the full extent of positive and negative effects of highly publicized
policy changes and social programs.
Throughout this review, we have indicated where more research would help
to advance our understanding of the science of changing norms and behavior.
We mention a few more future directions for research here in closing. First, it is
essential to collect longer-term follow-up measures of perceived (not just actual)
norms in evaluations of policy and behavior change interventions. These measures
can test the extent to which the normative change correlates with behavioral
change across time and situations. For example, how long will shifts in perceived
norms about women in politics persist following the reservation program in India
and how many times should this program reserve seats for women in order to
produce long-term effects? Is it effective to provide a “booster” to a normative
intervention at a later date, building on normative messages that already resonated
with participants?
Vehicle for Social Change 205
The cost-effectiveness of different normative intervention strategies should
also be analyzed as interventions are tested, and compared to the cost-effectiveness
of other kinds of interventions (Sunstein, 2013). Normative messaging often has
the benefit of reaching many individuals at once, through media programming
and signage, which stands in contrast to many one-on-one educational programs
aimed at changing attitudes.
Finally, successful normative interventions should be scaled up (see Allcott,
2011), with careful attention to aspects of the intervention that may unintentionally
differ when implemented on a larger and more systematic scale. Not all is kept
equal when an intervention strategy is translated from a lab setting to a realworld
setting or when it is seen as coming from a government or police force as
opposed to an NGO or university. It is important to continue evaluating normative
interventions’ consequences as they are scaled up, conducting experiments to
clearly understand their ongoing effects.
Perceived norms are not merely a psychological curiosity. Given the potential
of norm perception interventions to have powerful effects in real-world contexts,
scholars, practitioners, and policymakers need to join their efforts and expertise
to determine how best to implement proven norm interventions on a large scale.
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MARGARET E. TANKARD is a PhD candidate in social psychology at Princeton
University; she completed her bachelor’s degree in psychology at Stanford
University. Her research interests include behavioral science, perceived social
norms, the reduction of gender-based violence, and field experimental methods.
She is a National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship alumnus,
a Jacob K. Javits Fellowship alumnus, and a graduate fellow of the Princeton
University Center for Human Values.
ELIZABETH LEVY PALUCK is an Associate Professor in the Department
of Psychology and in the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International
Vehicle for Social Change 211
Affairs at Princeton University. Her research is concerned with the reduction of
prejudice and conflict, including ethnic and political conflict, youth conflict in
schools, and violence against women. She uses large-scale field experiments to
test interventions that target individuals’ perceived norms and behavior about
conflict and tolerance, including mass media and peer-to-peer interventions.
7.2 Condoning Stereotyping?
454
Journal of Applied Psychology
Condoning Stereotyping?: How Awareness of
Stereotyping Prevalence Impacts Expression of
Stereotypes
Michelle M. Duguid and Melissa C. Thomas-Hunt
Online First Publication, October 13, 2014. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/a0037908
CITATION
Duguid, M. M., & Thomas-Hunt, M. C. (2014, October 13). Condoning Stereotyping?: How
Awareness of Stereotyping Prevalence Impacts Expression of Stereotypes. Journal of Applied
Psychology. Advance online publication. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/a0037908
Condoning Stereotyping?: How Awareness of Stereotyping Prevalence
Impacts Expression of Stereotypes
Michelle M. Duguid
Washington University in St. Louis
Melissa C. Thomas-Hunt
University of Virginia
The deleterious effects of stereotyping on individual and group outcomes have prompted a search for
solutions. One approach has been to increase awareness of the prevalence of stereotyping in the hope of
motivating individuals to resist natural inclinations. However, it could be that this strategy creates a norm
for stereotyping, which paradoxically undermines desired effects. The present research demonstrates that
individuals who received a high prevalence of stereotyping message expressed more stereotypes than
those who received a low prevalence of stereotyping message (Studies 1a, 1b, 1c, and 2) or no message
(Study 2). Furthermore, working professionals who received a high prevalence of stereotyping message
were less willing to work with an individual who violated stereotypical norms than those who received
no message, a low prevalence of stereotyping message, or a high prevalence of counter-stereotyping
effort message (Study 3). Also, in a competitive task, individuals who received a high prevalence of
stereotyping message treated their opponents in more stereotype-consistent ways than those who received
a low prevalence of stereotyping message or those who received a high prevalence of counterstereotyping
effort message (Study 4).
Keywords: stereotypes, bias, diversity, norms, negotiation
Social category differentiation and the attributions assigned to
differences sometimes manifest in internalization of promulgated
negative stereotypes about certain demographic groups. Such stereotypes
in the workplace are often used unfairly, creating negative
outcomes for individuals who are the object of these stereotypes.
Consequently, this evolving demographic terrain necessitates that
managers find ways to mitigate the sometimes detrimental effects
of demographic diversity. Part of this effort has involved educating
employees about stereotyping and biases and then providing structures
that minimize the negative impact of these harmful behaviors
on fully leveraging human capital (Burgess, Van Ryn, Dovidio, &
Saha, 2007; Kalev, Dobbin, & Kelly, 2006; Sawyerr, Strauss, &
Yan, 2005; Ziegert & Hanges, 2005). To this end, providing
coaching and training on interventions that may mitigate the effects
of stereotyping on individuals’ outcomes has been one pervasive
vehicle utilized by organizations. It has been estimated that
organizations spend $8 billion annually on diversity and inclusion
training, and in a survey of Fortune 1,000 companies, 88% reported
providing diversity and inclusion training on gender alone
(Jayne & Dipboye, 2004; Vedantam, 2008). Given the significant
amount of time and money being spent on diversity and inclusion
training, it is important to ensure that the expected results are being
achieved.
Many of the proposed interventions involve explicit mandates
about not stereotyping that have often been shown to yield negative
backlash (Bodenhausen & Macrae, 1998). Those initiatives
that have proven more successful have been shown only to mitigate
the stereotypic expressions of those whose exhibited bias is
captured by explicit measures (Dobbins, Cardy, & Truxillo, 1988).
Recent research, however, suggests that explicit and implicit biases
diverge and that implicit biases may be more predictive of
stereotypic action (Sinclair, Lowery, Hardin, & Colangelo, 2005).
Consequently, in naturalistic settings, many more stereotypedriven
behaviors may emerge from those who do not exhibit
explicit bias. Furthermore, many groundbreaking intervention
strategies have been demonstrated in situations in which explicit
evaluations are being conducted (Baltes, Bauer, & Frensch, 2007;
Bauer & Baltes, 2002; Nieminen et al., 2013; Rudolph, Baltes,
Zhdanova, Clark, & Bal, 2012). It is unclear, however, whether
these strategies would be equally effective in the more prevalent
context in which constant tacit microassessments are continuously
being made. In these situations in which impromptu, yet impactful
informal assessments are made, the greater social norms of the
organization might have a significant impact on stereotyping and
biased expression.
One proposed method of reducing unconscious stereotyping is
highlighting the pervasiveness of stereotyping and the behaviors
associated with it (Banaji, Bazerman, & Chugh, 2003; Blair, Judd,
Sadler, & Jenkins, 2002; Burgess et al., 2007). The presumption is
that making individuals aware of the automatic nature of stereotype
activation, and hence the pervasiveness of stereotyping, may
lead to greater willingness to engage in checks on unproductive
thoughts that arise from stereotyping; not only will individuals be
aware of their susceptibility to biased thoughts, but they will not
feel singled out as bigots. However, there is the provocative
Michelle M. Duguid, Olin Business School, Washington University in
St. Louis; Melissa C. Thomas-Hunt, Darden School of Business, University
of Virginia.
Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to Michelle
M. Duguid, Olin School of Business, Washington University in St. Louis,
St. Louis, MO 63130-4899. E-mail: duguid@wustl.edu
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Journal of Applied Psychology © 2014 American Psychological Association
2014, Vol. 99, No. 6, 000 0021-9010/14/$12.00 http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/a0037908
1
possibility that instead of reducing stereotyping, touting the prevalence
of stereotyping (i.e., that the majority of individuals stereotype)
may create a social norm for stereotyping and, paradoxically,
promote stereotype expression and its detrimental effects because
individuals feel less compelled to monitor what they say or do.
In the present research, we tested this assertion by examining
how messages about the prevalence of stereotyping influence
individuals’ social judgments and behaviors. Specifically, we examined
the effects of high and low prevalence of stereotyping
messages on individuals’ stereotype expressions and their judgments
of and behavior toward individuals from highly stereotyped
groups. We built on and extended extant research examining
stereotype reduction in a number of ways. First, we moved beyond
structured evaluation processes to more subtle evaluation contexts
and focused particularly on stereotyping behaviors that result from
biases that operate outside awareness and are therefore not detectable
on measures of explicit bias. Moreover, we built upon previous
work that has examined methods of diminishing the stereotyping
behavior of those who explicitly report being biased (e.g.,
Sherman, Stroessner, Conrey, & Azam, 2005; Son Hing, Li, &
Zanna, 2002) by highlighting how prevalence messages may be
used more broadly to mitigate stereotype expression. Furthermore,
in past research, counterstereotyping interventions have been narrowly
focused, designed to specifically target a particular stereotyped
group (e.g., women), but little is known about how such
focused strategies affect broad perceptions of other stereotyped
groups (e.g., Blacks), for which no specific counterstereotype
exists (e.g., Blair, Ma, & Lenton, 2001; Dasgupta & Greenwald,
2001; Ramasubramanian, 2007). Our investigation, however, focused
on the utility of generalized prevalence messages, which
have the potential to broadly reduce the expression of stereotypes.
Stereotyping Prevalence
Stereotypes are beliefs or expectations about the qualities and
characteristics of specific social groups (Nelson, Acker, & Manis,
1996). People who endorse negative stereotypes are referred to as
being biased because the stereotype involves negative evaluative
components that may not be grounded in reality. In the past,
negative stereotyping and bias were primarily believed to be
behaviors in which only bigoted people engaged, and researchers
believed that explicit measures were sufficient to capture such
tendencies. However, more recently, the study of unconscious bias
has proposed an unsettling supposition—most of us use stereotypes
all the time without knowing it. Much of the support for
these claims has come from subtle measures of stereotypes such as
the Implicit Association Test (IAT) and implicit recall tasks. These
are the primary experimental methods used to generate a body of
results that demonstrates that many cognitive processes that affect
behavior, such as stereotyping, are unconscious in nature and are
inaccessible to observation by the actor (Greenwald, McGhee, &
Schwartz, 1998). Studies using recall tasks and the IAT have found
that there is widespread unconscious bias against stigmatized
groups such as older adults, African Americans, women, and the
overweight, even among individuals who believe that they are not
biased and report little or no explicit bias (Castelli, Zecchini,
Deamicis, & Sherman, 2005; Dovidio, 2001; Galinsky & Moskowitz,
2000; Green et al., 2007). For example, Teachman and
Brownell (2001) showed that health professionals who specialize
in obesity treatment demonstrated implicit anti-fat bias but there
was little evidence for explicit anti-fat bias.
This shift in focus from overt or conscious bias to unconscious
bias has important implications for organizations. Indeed, although
there has been a decline in overtly biased attitudes, bias still
continues in evaluation decisions and in perceptions of and interactions
with others (Maass, Castelli, & Arcuri, 2000; Sauer,
Thomas-Hunt, & Morris, 2010). Individuals may denounce bias in
the workplace but may still act in ways that reveal biased perceptions
and decision making without conscious awareness of their
actions (Dovidio, 2001). Thus, individuals who espouse egalitarianism
and are not openly biased may possess underlying feelings
that lead them to engage in biased decision making and behaviors
(Ziegert & Hanges, 2005). In light of the bias associated with
stereotyping, researchers have been examining ways to curb this
potentially damaging practice (Baltes et al., 2007; Bauer & Baltes,
2002; Kawakami, Dovidio, Moll, Hermsen, & Russin, 2000; Rudolph,
Baltes, Zhdanova, Clark, & Bal, 2012).
Reducing Bias
One of the most successful techniques for reducing bias has
been the use of structured recall in the observation and evaluation
of professionals’ behavior. In instances which individuals exhibited
explicit a priori bias against a traditionally stereotyped group
(i.e., Black male managers or female professors), instructions to
first recall observed positive behaviors for 5 min and observed
negative behaviors for 5 min diminished the negative impact of
stereotypes on subsequent performance ratings relative to situations
in which structured recall was not prompted (Baltes et al.,
2007; Bauer & Baltes, 2002). It is unclear, however, whether
methods demonstrated to mitigate biased evaluations by explicitly
biased individuals remain effective in diminishing bias among
those with implicit biases.
Considerable effort has been spent in examining mechanisms
for mitigating stereotyping, particularly that which is unrecognized.
Numerous investigations have presented mounting evidence
that individuals are highly motivated not to appear biased (Dunton
& Fazio, 1997; Fazio, Jackson, Dunton, & Williams, 1995; Plant
& Butz, 2006; Plant & Devine, 1998, 2003; Shelton, 2003;
Vorauer, Hunter, Main, & Roy, 2000; Vorauer & Kumhyr, 2001;
Vorauer, Main, & O’Connell, 1998) and expend considerable
effort to suppress biased expression (Richeson & Shelton, 2003).
However, whether these motivations are sufficient to successfully
translate into reductions in prejudiced attitudes and actions is less
clear. We do know that the reduction of prejudice is difficult and
takes considerable time (Devine & Monteith, 1993) and that despite
organizations’ expenditure of large amounts of money on this
effort (Hansen, 2003), the effects are mixed.
Part of the mixed success of anti-stereotyping campaigns may
be due to a backlash against prescriptions not to stereotype (Macrae,
Bodenhausen, Milne, & Jetten, 1994). Specifically, the use of
external control motivations (i.e., evoking concerns for what others
might think or the inappropriateness of stereotyping) in many of
the efforts to reduce the expression of prejudice in organizations
may actually be increasing stereotype expression. Across two
experiments in which they primed external control and autonomous
motivations for reducing prejudice, Legault, Gutsell, and
Inzlicht (2011) found that those in the external control condition
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2 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
demonstrated lower motivation to be nonprejudiced and exhibited
more explicit and implicit prejudice than those in the autonomous
motivation condition. Consequently, it is not surprising that alternative
methods (i.e., those that do not evoke backlash) for diminishing
stereotype expression have been publicized more recently.
One approach draws upon research that suggests the important
role of attention in general strategies for reducing undesired implicit
influences on judgment. The general principle is that attentional
focus attenuates automatic influences on judgment. The
premise is that it is possible to “overshadow” or suppress initial
automatic reactions by inducing people to think in a deliberative
fashion (Wilson & Brekke, 1994; Wilson, Lindsey, & Schooler,
2000). For example, Small, Loewenstein, and Slovic (2007) demonstrated
that teaching or priming people to recognize the discrepancy
in giving toward identifiable and unidentifiable victims resulted
in elimination of the disparity. Further evidence of the
effects of attentional focus on mitigation of implicit influences is
derived from research showing that individuals expected to justify
their judgments engage in more effortful and self-critical searches
(Lerner & Tetlock, 1994; Tetlock, 1983; Tetlock, Skitka, & Boettger,
1989) that have been shown to improve judgment (Ashton,
1992; Cvetkovich, 1978; Doney & Armstrong, 1996; Ford &
Weldon, 1981; McAllister, Mitchell, & Beach, 1979; Mero &
Motowidlo, 1995; Murphy, 1994; Weldon & Gargano, 1988).
Based on this body of literature focused on the role of attention
in weakening the effects of implicit cognition and its intuitively
attractive logic, some researchers promote consciousness raising as
a strategy for avoiding unintended bias. That is, when a decision
maker is aware of the source and nature of bias in judgment, that
bias may effectively be anticipated and avoided. Hence, the advice
to managers and organizational decision makers (Goto, 2007;
Wherry & Bartlett, 1982) as well as doctors (Klein, 2005) and
jurors (Jolls & Sunstein, 2006) has been to acknowledge their
implicit biases and make a conscious effort to be objective. In fact,
work by Son Hing, Bobocel, and Zanna (2002) indicates that
heightened self-awareness of one’s own propensity to engage in
stereotype expression decreases an individual’s discriminatory behavior.
In this investigation, specific feedback about a given individual’s
propensity to stereotype was provided. In such cases, it is
possible that the guilt that emerges from an awareness of one’s
own prejudice can produce a sufficient amount of motivation to
work to mitigate displays of prejudiced attitudes (Amodio, Devine,
& Harmon-Jones, 2007). However, such strategies leave open the
possibility that individuals may be overcome by feelings of blame
and find explanations other than bias to rationalize their behaviors.
Consequently, researchers have proposed that a strategy that
leverages the potentially beneficial effects of awareness of stereotyping
behavior without eliciting the unproductive behaviors
evoked by blame involves making individuals aware of the high
incidence of stereotyping and stereotyping behavior (Banaji et al.,
2003; Blair et al., 2002; Burgess et al., 2007). The rationale behind
this intervention is that making individuals cognizant of the automatic
nature of stereotyping may result in greater willingness to
engage in checks on their own stereotypic thoughts. Individuals
would be aware of their predisposition to stereotype, but they
would not feel as though they are alone in being chastised for
being biased. Although this strategy may seem intuitively attractive,
making people aware that the vast majority of people stereotype
may have some ironic effects. Instead of reducing stereotyping,
as intended, this message may convey a social norm for
stereotyping and promote expression, social judgments, and behaviors
based on stereotypes, because individuals feel less compelled
to monitor what they say or do. Research on compliance to
descriptive norms supports this argument (Goldstein, Cialdini, &
Griskevicius, 2008).
There is a body of literature on prejudice reduction based on
Sherif and Sherif’s (1953) group norm theory (Sechrist & Stangor,
2001; Stangor, Sechrist, & Jost, 2001). It suggests that individuals’
attitudes toward other groups are not based on actual contact with
those groups but rather exposure to the attitudes toward the other
groups prevailing among those in their own group. In support of
this theory, Blanchard, Crandall, Brigham, and Vaughan (1994)
found that a confederate expressing antiracist views dramatically
reduced tolerance for racist acts among experimental participants.
Conversely, when the same confederate expressed benign acceptance
of racist acts, participants also recommended acceptance (see
Monteith, Deneen, & Tooman, 1996, for similar effects on gayrelated
attitudes).
More broadly, several studies have shown that descriptive
norms (i.e., norms regarding how most people behave in a situation),
generally influence behaviors (e.g., Goldstein et al., 2008) by
providing information about what is likely to be adaptive and
effective conduct in a setting. Recently, there has been a surge of
programs that have capitalized on the use of normative information
to change undesired behaviors. For example, pointing out that
behaviors such as alcohol abuse, drug use, disordered eating,
gambling, and littering are enacted by the numeric minority has
reduced these behaviors (Neighbors, Larimer, & Lewis, 2004;
Schultz, 1999).
It is surprising, given the ubiquity and strength of the evidence
for compliance to descriptive norms, that individuals with the aim
of reducing stereotyping may be misusing this potent form of
influence. Their efforts to communicate, “You are not alone in
doing this thing that has harmful effects” are undercut by the
lurking normative message, “Most people are doing it” (Cialdini,
1998). It is conceivable then that, in trying to alert the public to the
widespread nature of stereotyping, organizational researchers and
social scientists inadvertently perpetuate stereotype expression because
individuals may feel less compelled to censor their stereotypic
and biased beliefs and behaviors.
Impact of Stereotyping Prevalence on Perceptions,
Decision Making, and Behavior
Both consciously and subconsciously, individuals often use
others as reference points to inform them of proper, accepted
behavior. If there is a discrepancy between their thoughts and what
they determine are appropriate perceptions or actions, the result is
often a change in behavior that diminishes or removes the discrepancy
(Roberts, 2005). Norms may define the standard associated
with stereotyping and bias, and this in turn is likely to influence
subsequent perceptions and behaviors.
We suggest that messages that convey information about the
social norm of stereotyping may play a role in whether individuals
perceive a discrepancy between those thoughts that are most easily
accessible and what is actually appropriate. Specifically, when
individuals are faced with a target possessing characteristics that
make categorical stereotypes readily available, it is easy for ste-
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3CONDONING STEREOTYPING
reotypic conceptions to dominate others in salience (Brewer, 1988;
Devine, 1989; Fiske & Neuberg, 1990). However, whether people
then use these thoughts to guide their perceptions, decisions, and
behaviors or instead work against their natural inclinations to rely
on theses stereotypes may be moderated by social norm messages.
In cases where the message conveys the high prevalence of stereotyping
(i.e., the vast majority of people stereotype), we anticipated
that stereotyping would seem less inappropriate and participants
would be less concerned about mitigating stereotyping
behaviors and would stereotype more than when a message conveyed
the low prevalence of stereotyping (i.e., few people stereo-
type).
Norms about stereotyping may also have important consequences
for the ways in which individuals engage with others.
When individuals feel that others stereotype, they may not only
allow themselves to express more stereotypes, but such a reduction
in self-censorship of stereotypic thoughts may have a number of
other consequences beyond expression. One such consequence
may be that, for individuals whose stereotypic thoughts are less
constrained, others’ displays of counterstereotypic behaviors may
be more disconcerting. Since stereotypes about groups affect assumptions
and expectations about the attributes and behavior of
those groups in social and professional settings (Boldry, Wood, &
Kashy, 2001; Eagly & Karau, 2002; Heilman, Block, Martell, &
Simon, 1989; Rudman & Glick, 2001), deviations from these
expectations may be unsettling. A growing body of research,
mostly focused on gender stereotype disconfirmation, has demonstrated
that expectancy violators suffer social and economic penalties,
termed backlash effects (Rudman, 1998; Rudman & Fairchild,
2004; Sheldon, Thomas-Hunt, & Proell, 2006). For instance,
evaluators conferred lower status on female professionals who
expressed anger than on male professionals who expressed anger
(Brescoll & Uhlmann, 2008). Likewise, female job applicants who
showed agency were viewed negatively, which led to discrimination
in hiring and promotion decisions, negative performance
evaluations, and even sabotage (for reviews, see Eagly & Karau,
2002; Rudman & Phelan, 2008). Thus, individuals uncompelled to
mitigate stereotypic conceptions may be more aware of expectancy
violations and display more unchecked backlash in the presence of
a target who violates stereotypic expectations. We hypothesized
that being exposed to messages about the high and low prevalence
of stereotyping will impact individuals’ social judgments of people
who engage in counterstereotypic behavior. Specifically, when
individuals feel less obliged to mitigate stereotypic conceptions,
they may be more critical of a target’s stereotype violation and
more likely to display unchecked backlash against the target.
Therefore, we predicted that individuals exposed to a high prevalence
of stereotyping message would rate people who violate
stereotypic expectations more harshly than individuals who were
told that few people stereotype.
In contrast, a message that highlights individuals’ efforts to
overcome stereotyping may better leverage the power of social
norms than a message that conveys the high prevalence of stereotyping.
When a message highlights individuals’ efforts to overcome
stereotyping (i.e., the vast majority of people try to overcome
their stereotypic preconceptions), individuals may be motivated to
regulate stereotyping behaviors. Previous studies have demonstrated
that messages that convey that most people display positive
behaviors motivate others to act positively as well (Cialdini, Kallgren,
& Reno, 1991). For example, Goldstein and his colleagues
(2008) showed that a message saying “the majority of guests reuse
their towels” proved superior to a message that focused solely on
the importance of environmental protection in motivating hotel
guests’ participation in an environmental conservation program.
Because people generally do not want to be seen as negatively
biased and adjust their behavior to avoid this attribution (Bergsieker,
Shelton, & Richeson, 2010; Dovidio, Gaertner, Kawakami,
& Hodson, 2002; Norton, Sommers, Apfelbaum, Pura, & Ariely,
2006), circumstances in which stereotyping is not normative
should increase individuals’ motivation to mitigate their stereotypic
thoughts and expressions. Specifically, messages which convey
that the vast majority of people try to overcome their stereotypic
preconceptions may mitigate stereotypic conceptions more
than messages that highlight the fact that the vast majority of
people stereotype. Therefore, individuals who are exposed to the
high prevalence of stereotyping message may rate people who
violate stereotypic expectations more harshly than individuals who
are told that most people try to avoid stereotyping; that is, they are
exposed to a high prevalence of counterstereotyping message.
Additionally, the dominance behaviors of individuals who indulge
stereotypic thoughts may also be affected. Research on
stereotype lift reveals that individuals experience a performance
boost when the lower ability or worth of members of a distinct
social category of which they are not a part is made salient or
explicitly called into question (Walton & Cohen, 2003). For instance,
despite the pervasive stereotype that woman are worse than
men at solving difficult math problems, men outperformed women
only when it was made salient that historically men have better
task performance (Spencer, Steele, & Quinn, 1999). Presumably,
men exposed to information about women’s inferior performance
developed a more crystalized stereotype of women, which propelled
their own performance. A message conveying the high
prevalence of stereotyping might release individuals from dismissing
stereotypes and similarly provoke heightened performance.
Hence, we expected that individuals who were exposed to a high
prevalence of stereotyping message (HPSM) and who were competing
against members of a group stereotyped as performing
poorly in competitive situations would behave more assertively
and perform better than those exposed to a low prevalence of
stereotyping message (LPSM) and those exposed to a high prevalence
of counterstereotyping effort message (HPCSM).
Overview of Studies
In the present research, we tested these predictions by examining
how messages about the prevalence of stereotyping influence
individuals’ biased expressions, social judgments, and behaviors.
In Studies 1a, 1b and 1c, we examined the effects of low and high
prevalence of stereotyping messages on individuals’ stereotype
expressions about the older adults, women, and the overweight,
respectively. In Study 2, we examined whether a HPSM exacerbates
stereotype expressions relative to situations where no stereotyping
prevalence information is provided. In addition, in Study 2
we employed a more nuanced method of assessing stereotype
expression that does not prompt respondents with stereotypes and
uses an implicit measure of individuals’ stereotypical expressions.
The claim of stereotyping infrequency might be externally compromised,
given the widespread commentary that people do ste-
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4 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
reotype. Therefore, in Study 3, we exposed working professionals
to a more realistic message that exploits the potency of descriptive
norms by conveying the high prevalence of individuals’ efforts to
overcome their predilection toward stereotyping. Second, we extended
our investigation of the effects of stereotyping prevalence
on generalized expressions of stereotypes to situations in which
individuals were making evaluative judgments based on behavioral
observations. Specifically, we considered the ways in which
stereotyping prevalence impacts evaluations of those who exhibit
counterstereotypical behavior. We investigated not just the proximal
outcomes related to stereotyping but also the distal outcomes.
Finally, in Study 4, we moved from an investigation of perceptions
and social judgment to consideration of the impact of a low and
high prevalence of stereotyping message and a high prevalence of
counterstereotyping effort message on behavior and outcomes on a
competitive task.
Study 1a
The purpose of this study was to determine if information about
the prevalence of stereotyping would influence individuals’ stereotype
expressions about a commonly stereotyped group—older
adults (Perry, Kulik, & Bourhis, 1996). We sought to replicate the
context of the real world in which people are increasingly told to
try not to stereotype by telling participants that they should try to
avoid stereotyping. However, recognizing that active suppression
of stereotypic thoughts can increase the salience of stereotypes and
their influence on thoughts (Macrae et al., 1994; Monteith, Spicer,
& Tooman, 1998), we also examined the impact of prevalence
messages in the absence of instructions to avoid stereotyping. In
doing so, we hoped to be able to isolate the separate effects of
prevalence messages.
Method
Participants. Participants were 208 (97 females; mean age ϭ
20.16 years) undergraduate and graduate business school students
at a private midwestern university. The racial/ethnic composition
of the sample was 68% European Americans, 15% Asians, 5%
African Americans, 8% Hispanics, and 4% East Indians.
Design and procedure. Participants were randomly assigned
to one of four conditions in a 2 (prevalence message: high prevalence
of stereotyping message, or HPSM vs. low prevalence of
stereotyping message, or LPSM) ϫ 2 (caveat: none vs. try to avoid
stereotyping) design. They were told that the experimenters were
interested in people’s perceptions. They were reminded that their
responses would be anonymous. Before giving their perceptions of
older adults, participants read one of four messages. Those randomly
assigned to the HPSM condition were told the following:
A very influential body of psychological research has established that
the vast majority of people have stereotypical preconceptions and their
impressions and evaluations of others are consistently biased by these
stereotypic preconceptions. You should actively try to avoid thinking
about others in such a manner.
Participants assigned to the LPSM condition read the following
message:
A very influential body of psychological research has established that
very few people have stereotypical preconceptions and their impressions
and evaluations of others are consistently biased by these
stereotypic preconceptions. You should actively try to avoid thinking
about others in such a manner.
Participants assigned to conditions with messages without the
“try to avoid stereotyping” caveat were either given the HPSM or
the LPSM but were not told that they “should actively try to avoid
thinking about others in such a manner.” Therefore, participants
assigned to the HPSM without the “try to avoid stereotyping”
caveat condition were told the following:
A very influential body of psychological research has established that
the vast majority of people have stereotypical preconceptions and their
impressions and evaluations of others are consistently biased by these
stereotypic preconceptions.
Likewise, participants assigned to the LPSM without the “try to
avoid stereotyping” caveat condition read the following message:
A very influential body of psychological research has established that
very few people have stereotypical preconceptions and their impressions
and evaluations of others are consistently biased by these
stereotypic preconceptions.
Dependent measures. Using items adopted from Kawakami
et al. (2000), participants rated the older adults on three dimensions
on which they are typically stereotyped (i.e., fragile, traditional,
and dependent) on a 7-point scale (1 ϭ strongly disagree,
7 ϭ strongly agree), ␣ ϭ .77.
Results
Analysis of variance (ANOVA) revealed a significant main
effect of prevalence message, F(1, 204) ϭ 13.26, p Ͻ .01. Individuals
in the HPSM condition (M ϭ 5.00, SD ϭ 0.85) rated older
adults more stereotypically than those in the LPSM condition
(M ϭ 4.58, SD ϭ 0.80).1
There was no significant main effect for
caveat, F(1, 204) ϭ 0.17, ns, and there was no significant interaction
of prevalence message and caveat, F(1, 204) ϭ 0.50, ns (see
Figure 1a).
Discussion
The results revealed that messages about the rarity of stereotyping
yielded lower stereotype expressions about older adults than
messages that touted the prevalence of stereotyping. Therefore, our
prediction was supported. Specifically, when participants were
told that few people stereotyped, they rated the older adults less
stereotypically than when they were told that the vast majority of
people stereotyped. Moreover, the admonition to try not to stereotype
did not influence the findings, suggesting that the norm
content of the message and not the “try to avoid stereotyping”
caveat influenced individuals’ expressions. Therefore, the results
demonstrate that messages about stereotype prevalence influence
stereotype expression. In the next study, we aimed to replicate
these findings by examining the perceptions of another frequently
stereotyped group—women.
1
Controlling for age revealed the same pattern of results for all analyses.
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5CONDONING STEREOTYPING
Study 1b
Method
Participants. Three hundred and nineteen participants (145
females; mean age ϭ 36.14) were recruited from Amazon’s mechanical
Turk (mTurk). The racial/ethnic composition of the sample
was 65% European Americans, 25% Asians, 5% East Indians,
4% African Americans, and 1% Hispanics.
Design and procedure. The study procedure was the same as
that used in Study 1a. Participants were randomly assigned to one
of the four conditions used in the previous study, 2 (prevalence
message: HPSM vs. LPSM) ϫ 2 (caveat: none vs. try to avoid
stereotyping), and asked to give their perceptions of women anon-
ymously.
Dependent measures. Using dimensions highlighted in the
literature that characterize women (Amatea, Cross, Clark, &
Bobby, 1986; Cuddy, Fiske, & Glick, 2004; Lobel & Clair, 1992),
participants rated their stereotypical perceptions of women on
three dimensions (i.e., warm, family-oriented, and career-oriented
[reverse-coded]) on a 7-point scale (1 ϭ strongly disagree, 7 ϭ
strongly agree), ␣ ϭ .84.
Results
ANOVA showed a significant main effect of prevalence message,
F(1, 315) ϭ 11.51, p Ͻ .01. Individuals in the HPSM
condition (M ϭ 5.30, SD ϭ 0.76) rated women more stereotypically
than those in the LPSM condition (M ϭ 4.99, SD ϭ 0.84).2
There was no significant main effect of caveat, F(1, 315) ϭ 0.28,
ns and there was no significant interaction between prevalence
message and caveat, F(1, 315) ϭ 0.26, ns (see Figure 1b).
Discussion
Consistent with the results from Study 1a, the LPSM yielded
less stereotypical expressions about women than the HPSM. Once
again, the “try to avoid stereotyping” caveat did not play a significant
role in the effects; similar results were found when there was
no request to try to avoid stereotyping. These results lend further
support to our prediction that messages that convey information
about the prevalence of stereotyping impact individuals’ expressions
of stereotypes. Furthermore, the findings demonstrate that
expressions of stereotypes were not limited to out-group members;
the pattern of stereotype expressions was similar for men and
women.
One might argue that reference to “a very influential body of
psychological research” in the messages may influence individuals’
expression of stereotypes. In order to eliminate this potential
confound, we conducted another study that made no mention of
psychological research. Moreover, we expanded our investigation
to that of bodyweight-based stereotypes, which have also been
shown to affect performance ratings in the workplace (for a summary
and qualitative review, see Crandall, Nieman, & Hebl, 2009;
for a review of workplace and legal implications, see Roehling,
1999; for a quantitative review of workplace literature, see Baltes
et al., 2007; Bauer & Baltes, 2002; Dobbins et al., 1988; Nieminen
et al., 2013; Rudolph & Baltes, 2008; Rudolph et al., 2009).
Specifically, a meta-analysis conducted by Rudolph, Wells,
Weller, and Baltes (2009) showed that in relation to nonoverweight
individuals in the workplace, overweight individuals
were disadvantaged across evaluative workplace outcomes such as
hiring, performance, and promotion decisions.
Study 1c
Method
Participants. Participants were 304 (105 females; mean
age ϭ 20.35 years) undergraduate students at a private midwestern
2
Controlling for gender revealed the same pattern of results for all
analyses.
Figure 1. a: Effect of prevalence message on individuals’ stereotype
expressions about older adults. b: Effect of prevalence message on individuals’
stereotype expressions about women. c: Effect of prevalence
message on individuals’ stereotype expressions about the overweight.
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6 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
university. The racial/ethnic composition of the sample was 73%
European Americans, 12% Asians/Asian Americans, 1% African
Americans, 2% Hispanics, and 12% described themselves as
“other.”
Design and procedure. Participants were randomly assigned
to one of the four conditions in a 2 (prevalence message: HPSM vs.
LPSM) ϫ 2 (caveat: none vs. a very influential body of psychological
research has established) experimental design.3
Individuals
randomly assigned to the HPSM condition without reference to
psychological research were told the following:
The vast majority of people have stereotypical preconceptions and
their impressions and evaluations of others are consistently biased by
these stereotypic preconceptions. You should actively try to avoid
thinking about others in such a manner.
Likewise, individuals randomly assigned to the LPSM condition
without reference to psychological research received this message:
Very few people have stereotypical preconceptions and their impressions
and evaluations of others are consistently biased by these
stereotypic preconceptions. You should actively try to avoid thinking
about others in such a manner.
The HPSM and LPSM conditions were the same as in the
previous studies. As in Studies 1a and 1b, participants were asked
to give their perceptions anonymously.
Dependent measures. Participants rated their stereotypes toward
overweight individuals in the specific role of “manager”
using the eight-item Obese as Managers Scale (OAMS; Randolph,
Finkelstein, Zhdanova, Baltes, & Roehling, 2007; e.g., “Obese
people possess the drive to be successful leaders”; reverse-coded;
1 ϭ strongly disagree, 7 ϭ strongly agree), ␣ ϭ .82 (Rudolph et
al., 2012; Zhdanova, Baltes, Chakrabarti, Finkelstein, Roehling, &
Sheppard, 2007). The OAMS was designed to assess raters’ endorsement
of both general negative stereotypes toward overweight
individuals in the workplace and more specific stereotypes about
overweight individuals in managerial positions within organiza-
tions.
Results
Consistent with the previous studies, ANOVA demonstrated a
significant main effect of prevalence message, F(1, 300) ϭ 228.68,
p Ͻ .01. Individuals in the HPSM condition (M ϭ 4.95, SD ϭ
0.95) rated the overweight more stereotypically than those in the
LPSM condition (M ϭ 3.45, SD ϭ 0.77).4
There was no significant
main effect of caveat, F(1, 300) ϭ 0.23, ns, and there was no
significant interaction between prevalence message and caveat,
F(1, 300) ϭ 1.32, ns (see Figure 1c).
Discussion
Consistent with the results from Studies 1a and 1b, the LPSM
yielded less stereotypical expressions about the overweight than
the HPSM. The “very influential body of psychological research
has established” caveat did not have a significant effect; identical
patterns of results occurred when no mention was made of psychological
research. These results lend additional support to our
prediction that messages that convey information about the prevalence
of stereotyping impact individuals’ expressions of stereotypes.
Moreover, these findings extend beyond generalized stereotypes
of older adults and women to more specific stereotypes of
overweight people within the workplace.
Study 2
Method
Participants and design. Participants were 120 (59 females;
mean age ϭ 19.87 years) undergraduate business school students
at a university in the United States. The racial/ethnic composition
of the sample was 65% European Americans, 25% Asians, 5%
East Indians, 4% African Americans, and 1% Hispanics.
Procedure. Participants were told that the experimenter was
interested in their ability to construct life-event details from visual
information. They were then shown a color photograph of an older
man and asked to compose a brief passage describing a typical day
in his life (Macrae et al., 1994). Before performing the task,
participants were randomly assigned to one of three conditions
(HPSM, LPSM, or control). The HPSM and LPSM were the same
as those used in previous studies; in the control condition, no
message was given.
Dependent measures. The dependent variable was the level
of stereotypicality of the constructed passages. To compute this
measure, using a 9-point scale (1 ϭ not at all stereotypical, 9 ϭ
very stereotypical), two independent raters blind to the experimental
conditions and predictions evaluated the stereotypicality of
each passage, whether the passage characterized the person based
on preconceived notions, whether the passage had many stereotypes,
and whether the passage did not contain biased perceptions
(reverse-coded; ␣ ϭ .93). In line with Roberson (2006), we used
a theoretically derived rating system. We first developed a list of
stereotypes of older adults discussed in the literature (Kawakami et
al., 2000). We then rated a subset of passages to clarify and refine
this coding scheme. Raters were first trained on the rating system
and independently rated a small subset of the passages along with
the author. The results of this rating process were discussed among
all raters to identify areas of disagreement. Finally, the raters were
instructed to independently code the passages. Given the high level
of agreement in their estimates, r(87) ϭ 0.82, the ratings were
averaged.
Results
ANOVA revealed a significant effect of condition, F(2, 117) ϭ
9.62, p Ͻ .01. Simple effects tests showed that the HPSM (M ϭ
6.40, SD ϭ 2.60) yielded more stereotypical content than the
LPSM (M ϭ 3.71, SD ϭ 2.75), t(78) ϭ 4.50, p Ͻ .01, and the
no-message condition (M ϭ 5.12, SD ϭ 2.88), t(77) ϭ 2.07, p Ͻ
3
Study 1c originally included eight conditions; those used in Studies 1a
and 1b (HPSM, LPSM, HPSM without the “try to avoid stereotyping”
caveat, and LPSM without the “try to avoid stereotyping” caveat) and all
the conditions from the previous study without the wording “a very
influential body of psychological research has established.” The results
were consistent with those of the previous studies and showed only a main
effect of prevalence message. All of the conditions have not been included
here for the sake of clarity but are available upon request.
4
Controlling for participants’ gender and weight revealed the same
pattern of results for all analyses.
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7CONDONING STEREOTYPING
.05. There was also a difference in the stereotypicality of the
narratives written by participants who saw the LPSM and those in
the no-message condition, t(79) ϭ 2.26, p Ͻ .05; the passages of
those exposed to the LPSM were rated as less stereotypical than
the passages of those exposed to no message (see Figure 2).
Discussion
Consistent with the findings of the previous studies, the results
showed that individuals exposed to a HPSM expressed more
stereotypes than did individuals receiving an LPSM. Hence, our
prediction gained further support. Moreover, individuals receiving
an LPSM restricted their stereotypical expressions more than individuals
who were not exposed to a message at all. However,
because individuals exposed to the control were not given a “no
stereotyping” caveat, it is possible that the higher stereotypic
expression in the control was driven by the lack of explicit “no
stereotyping” instructions. Nevertheless, the absence of difference
in stereotype expression across the caveat and no caveat conditions
in Studies 1a–1c suggests that it is unlikely that this difference was
solely driven by the absence of a caveat. Additionally, instead of
reducing stereotypical expression, exposure to an HPSM had the
opposite effect. Therefore, messages that may be intended to
reduce the use of stereotypes may in fact increase it.
Study 3
In Study 3, we focused specifically on compensation negotiations
because of their importance in organizational life and the
critical economic implications they have and because they represent
a domain in which gender differences are well documented
(Barron, 2003; Bowles, Babcock, & Lai, 2007; Kray, Thompson,
& Galinsky, 2001; Stevens, Bavetta, & Gist, 1993). These differences
have been traced to individuals’ expectations of behavior for
men and women.
The act of attempting to negotiate for greater personal resources,
such as compensation, is perceived to call for a type of dominative
masculine behavior that violates the prescriptions of feminine
warmth (Bowles et al., 2007); that violation, counterstereotypical
behavior, is likely to engender social resistance or backlash (Burgess
& Borgida, 1999; Prentice & Carranza, 2002; Wade, 2001).
Men, on the other hand, are not constrained by expectations to be
warm. Rather, the stereotypic belief is that men are assertive
(Prentice & Carranza, 2002), especially in activities such as negotiations
(Kray, Galinsky, & Thompson, 2002).
We expected that being exposed to messages about the high and
low prevalence of stereotyping and about the high prevalence of
counterstereotyping effort would affect individuals’ judgments of
women who negotiate for higher compensation. If individuals are
less compelled to mitigate stereotypic conceptions, they may be
more critical of a target’s stereotype violation and more likely to
display unchecked backlash against the violator. Therefore, we
expected to find that individuals exposed to a message about the
high prevalence of stereotyping, HPSM, would rate a female
candidate, but not a male candidate, who attempted to negotiate for
higher compensation as less warm and be less willing to work with
her than individuals who were told that few people stereotype,
LPSM, or those who were exposed to a high prevalence of counterstereotyping
message (HPCSM).
Method
Participants and design. Participants were 301 (75 females;
mean age ϭ 34.32 years) working professionals with an average of
9.92 years of work experience. This population consisted of parttime
employees who had master’s degrees in business administration
and managers and executives who had been former participants
in executive education programs at a southeastern business
school. The racial/ethnic composition of the sample was 72%
European Americans, 15% Asians/Asian Americans, 5% African
Americans, 3% Hispanics and 5% described themselves as
“other.” Participants were randomly assigned to a condition in a 4
(prevalence message: HPSM vs. LPSM vs. HPCSM vs. control) ϫ
2 (candidate gender: male vs. female) design.
Procedure. Participants in each condition received a transcript
of a job placement interview adapted from Bowles et al,
(2007) and were told that they would be evaluating the candidate
after they reviewed the materials. In the transcript, the candidate,
Mr./Ms. Harper, engaged in a stereotypically male behavior by
asking for more compensation. Specifically, in response to being
asked if there was anything else the candidate would like the
interviewer to keep in mind as his or her placement was considered,
the candidate replied:
I think I should be paid at the top of that range. This is really important
to me; I think I deserve it. I also would like to be eligible for an
end-of-year bonus. I know performance bonuses are not standard for
junior managers, but I would certainly be more motivated if I could
look forward to a performance bonus at the end of the year. I am
thinking of something in the 25%–50% of salary range. Not doubling
my salary or anything. And, listen, I do not care if it’s in cash or
stocks—and I promise you, I’ll earn it. So, those are the two things
that I am asking with regard to my compensation: one, paying me at
the top of the junior manager salary range and, two, providing me with
an end of year, 20%–50% of salary performance bonus.
The HPSM, LPSM, and control conditions were the same as in
previous studies. For the HPCSM condition, participants were told
the following:
A very influential body of psychological research has established that
the vast majority of people try to overcome their stereotypic preconFigure
2. Effect of prevalence message on level of stereotypicality of
passages. HPSM ϭ high prevalence of stereotyping message; LPSM ϭ low
prevalence of stereotyping message.
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8 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
ceptions and try to prevent their impressions and evaluations of others
from being consistently biased by these stereotypic preconceptions.
You should actively try to avoid thinking about others in a stereotypic
manner.
After reviewing the transcript, participants completed a question-
naire.
Dependent measures. Participants rated their willingness to
work with the candidate on a three-item scale adopted from
Bowles et al, (2007)). A sample item is “How much would you
enjoy having this person work for you?”; the ratings scale ranged
from 1 (not at all) to 7 (extremely), ␣ ϭ .84. Participants also rated
the candidate’s warmth on a seven-item scale adopted from Rudman
and Glick (1999) (e.g., likeable, warm), ␣ ϭ .87.
Results
Willingness to work with the candidate. ANOVA revealed a
main effect of prevalence message, F(3, 293) ϭ 5.62, p Ͻ .01.
Evaluators exposed to a HPSM (M ϭ 3.51, SD ϭ 1.24) were less
willing to work with a candidate than evaluators exposed to a
LPSM (M ϭ 4.26, SD ϭ 1.19), t(149) ϭ Ϫ3.78, p Ͻ .01; a
HPCSM (M ϭ 4.16, SD ϭ 1.12), t(147) ϭ Ϫ3.34, p Ͻ .01; and to
no message (M ϭ 4.05, SD ϭ 1.23), t(147) ϭ 2.65, p Ͻ .01. There
were no significant differences in willingness to work with the
candidate when evaluators were exposed to no message and a
LPSM, t(150) ϭ Ϫ1.07, ns; no message and a HPCSM, t(148) ϭ
0.58, ns; and a LPSM and a HPCSM, t(150) ϭ Ϫ0.53, ns. There
was also a significant main effect of candidate gender, F(1, 293) ϭ
4.58, p Ͻ .05, such that evaluators were more willing to work with
the male candidate (M ϭ 4.15, SD ϭ 1.14) than the female
candidate (M ϭ 3.85, SD ϭ 1.29).
It should be noted that the main effects were qualified by an
interaction between prevalence message and candidate gender,
F(3, 293) ϭ 4.33, p Ͻ .01. Planned contrasts showed that evaluators
who were exposed to a HPSM (M ϭ 3.09, SD ϭ 1.29) were
less willing to work with a female candidate who attempted to
negotiate than those exposed to a LPSM (M ϭ 4.32, SD ϭ
1.07), t(76) ϭ 4.55, p Ͻ .01; a HPCSM (M ϭ 4.30, SD ϭ 1.10),
t(73) ϭ Ϫ3.94, p Ͻ .01; and no message (M ϭ 3.70, SD ϭ
1.32), t(72) ϭ 2.01, p Ͻ .05. Conversely, evaluators who were
exposed to a LPSM were more willing to work with a female
candidate who attempted to negotiate than those exposed to no
message, t(72) ϭ 2.20, p Ͻ .05. Likewise, evaluators exposed
to a HPCSM were more willing to work with a female candidate
than those exposed to no message, t(69) ϭ 2.06, p Ͻ .05. There
was no significant difference between the LPSM and HPCSM
conditions, t(73) ϭ Ϫ0.08, ns.
There were no significant differences in willingness to work
with a male candidate who attempted to negotiate when evaluators
were exposed to a HPSM (M ϭ 3.98, SD ϭ 1.00) or a LPSM (M ϭ
4.20, SD ϭ 1.31), t(71) ϭ 0.81, ns, or a HPCSM (M ϭ 4.03, SD ϭ
1.14), t(72) ϭ 0.21, ns, or no message (M ϭ 4.35, SD ϭ 1.08),
t(73) ϭ 1.53, ns. There was also no difference between the LPSM
and HPCSM conditions, t(75) ϭ Ϫ0.60, ns, and the no-message
condition, t(71) ϭ 0.81, ns, and between the HPCSM condition
and the no-message condition, t(72) ϭ 0.21, ns.
Furthermore, evaluators exposed to a HPSM were less willing to
work with a female than a male candidate, t(72) ϭ Ϫ3.28, p Ͻ .01,
as were those who saw no message, t(73) ϭ Ϫ2.33, p Ͻ .05. There
was no difference in willingness to work with a female versus male
negotiator for the LPSM, t(75) ϭ 0.42, ns, and HPCSM, t(73) ϭ
1.01, ns (see Figure 3).
Warmth. ANOVA revealed a main effect of prevalence message,
F(3, 293) ϭ 3.89, p Ͻ .01. Evaluators exposed to a HPSM
(M ϭ 3.49, SD ϭ 1.08) rated the candidate as significantly less
warm than evaluators exposed to a LPSM (M ϭ 3.95, SD ϭ 0.94),
t(149) ϭ Ϫ2.78, p Ͻ .01, and a HPCSM (M ϭ 3.87, SD ϭ 0.90),
t(147) ϭ Ϫ2.37, p Ͻ .05, and to no message (M ϭ 3.80, SD ϭ
0.86), t(147) ϭ 1.97, p Ͻ .05. There were no significant differences
in ratings of warmth of the candidate when evaluators were
exposed to no message and a LPSM, t(150) ϭ 0.97, ns, and no
message and a HPCSM, t(148) ϭ 0.48, ns, or between a LPSM and
a HPCSM, t(150) ϭ Ϫ0.49, ns. There was a main effect of
candidate gender, F(1, 293) ϭ 4.45, p Ͻ .01, such that evaluators
were more willing to work with the male candidate (M ϭ 3.89,
SD ϭ 0.93) than the female candidate (M ϭ 3.67, SD ϭ 0.98).
More important, there was also an interaction between prevalence
message and candidate gender, F(3, 293) ϭ 8.74, p Ͻ .01.
Evaluators exposed to the HPSM (M ϭ 3.01, SD ϭ 1.04) rated a
female candidate as less warm than those exposed to the LPSM
(M ϭ 4.10, SD ϭ 1.29), t(76) ϭ Ϫ5.07, p Ͻ .01, the HPCSM
(M ϭ 4.00, SD ϭ 0.79), t(73) ϭ Ϫ4.61, p Ͻ .01, and the
Figure 3. Effect of prevalence message and candidate gender on willingness
to work with the candidate. HPSM ϭ high prevalence of stereotyping
message; LPSM ϭ low prevalence of stereotyping message; HPCSM ϭ
high prevalence of counterstereotyping effort message.
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9CONDONING STEREOTYPING
no-message condition (M ϭ 3.57, SD ϭ 0.85), t(72) ϭ 2.52, p Ͻ
.05. Evaluators exposed to no-message condition also rated a
female candidate as less warm than those exposed to the LPSM,
t(72) ϭ 2.68, p Ͻ .05, and the HPCSM, t(69) ϭ 2.20, p Ͻ .05.
There was no difference between LPSM and HPCSM conditions,
t(73) ϭ Ϫ0.52, ns. There was no difference in ratings of warmth
for a male candidate who negotiated when evaluators were exposed
to a HPSM (M ϭ 4.02, SD ϭ 0.86) or a LPSM (M ϭ 3.79,
SD ϭ 1.03), t(71) ϭ Ϫ1.02, ns; a HPSM or a HPCSM (M ϭ 3.75,
SD ϭ 0.98), t(72) ϭ Ϫ1.22, ns; and a HPSM or no message (M ϭ
4.00, SD ϭ 0.84), t(77) ϭ Ϫ0.06, ns. There was also no difference
in ratings of warmth for a male candidate when evaluators were
exposed to no message or a LPSM, t(71) ϭ Ϫ1.02, ns, and no
message and a HPCSM, t(72) ϭ Ϫ1.22, ns. Finally, there was no
difference in warmth ratings for a male candidate when evaluators
were exposed to a LPSM and a HPCSM, t(75) ϭ Ϫ0.16, ns.
Furthermore, evaluators exposed to a HPSM rated a female who
negotiated as less warm than a male who negotiated,
t(72) ϭ Ϫ4.49, p Ͻ .01. Evaluators exposed to no message also
rated a female who negotiated as less warm than a male who
negotiated, t(73) ϭ Ϫ2.23, p Ͻ .05. For the LPSM condition, there
was no difference in the ratings of a female and male negotiator,
t(75) ϭ 1.44, ns. Likewise, there was no difference in the ratings
for a female and male negotiator in the HPCSM condition, t(73) ϭ
1.19, ns (see Figure 4).
Discussion
Study 3 demonstrated that messages about stereotyping and
counterstereotyping effort prevalence impact individuals’ evaluation
of targets exhibiting counterstereotypical behavior. Specifically,
the female candidate who negotiated was rated as less warm
and evaluators were less willing to work with her when they had
been exposed to a HPSM versus a LPSM or a HPCSM. Moreover,
making evaluators aware of the high prevalence of stereotyping
increased their backlash against the female candidate; she was
rated as less warm and evaluators were less willing to work with
her than if they saw no message. The converse was true of
evaluators exposed to a LPSM and a HPCSM; evaluators rated the
female candidate as warmer, and they were more willing to work
with her than if they saw no message at all.
Knowledge that many others hold stereotypical preconceptions
may diminish evaluators’ motivation to dismiss their own stereotypes.
Consequently, a focal individual’s exhibition of counterstereotypical
behavior stands in stark contrast to evaluators’ expectations
of stereotype-consistent behavior. The discrepancy between
observed counterstereotypical behavior and expected stereotypical
behavior may constitute a violation of expectancy that diminishes
positive perceptions (i.e., reducing ratings of warmth and willingness
to work with a candidate; Sheldon et al., 2006).
Study 4
Women are stereotyped as less effective negotiators than men
because the traits that characterize ineffective negotiators are perceived
to be feminine (Kray et al., 2001; Williams & Best, 1982).
These include being passive and overly accommodating (Lax &
Sebenius, 1986). Research on mixed-sex negotiation dyads indicates
that stereotype activation benefits male performance at the
expense of female performance by enhancing males’ expectations
(Kray et al., 2001). The presumption in Kray et al.’s studies,
although not explicitly investigated, is that males’ enhanced expectations
increase their assertiveness and their claiming of resources.
Therefore, it is likely that a HPSM would support or
enhance the assertive behavior of male negotiators who feel less
compelled to suppress stereotypes, leading them to perform better
against women than those exposed to a LPSM or a HPCSM.
Method
Participants and design. Participants were 66 (33 females;
mean age ϭ 20.46 years) undergraduate business school students
at a university in the United States who negotiated in mixed-sex
dyads. The racial/ethnic composition of the sample was 63%
European Americans, 32% Asians, and 5% African Americans.
Participants were randomly assigned to one of three experimental
conditions, forming the 33 dyads whose outcomes were examined.
Procedure. All participants were assigned to a dyad with a
partner of the opposite sex, creating 33 dyads each with one male
Figure 4. Effect of prevalence message and candidate gender on warmth.
HPSM ϭ high prevalence of stereotyping message; LPSM ϭ low prevalence
of stereotyping message; HPCSM ϭ high prevalence of counterstereotyping
effort message.
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10 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
and one female member. The experiment involved exposing only
the males in each mixed-gender dyad to one of the three conditions
in the previous study: HPSM, LPSM, and HPCSM. For all conditions,
role assignments (buyer or seller) were counterbalanced
across gender. As part of a first class on negotiations, a standard
distributive negotiation exercise involving a car sale was used
(Paulson, 2006). A distributive is a “win–lose” or “fixed pie”
negotiation where one party generally gains at the expense of
another party.
Dyads were given up to 30 min to negotiate after reading
general instructions and role-specific information (e.g., for the
buyer, “Why you want to buy a car and the money you have to
spend on the vehicle”; for the seller, “Why you want to sell the
car and the money you want to get for the vehicle”). The
manipulation was introduced at the end of the general instructions
that described the negotiation situation, timing of the task,
and the objective to maximize their own profit, with the buyer
aiming to minimize the sale price, and the seller aiming to
maximize it. No mention was made about stereotypes held
about male and female negotiators.
Dependent measures. The measures were female partners’
perceptions of their male counterparts’ behavioral assertiveness
adapted from Kray et al. (2001; i.e., “How assertive/dominant/
passive/accommodating was your partner?”; 1 ϭ not at all, 7 ϭ
extremely), ␣ ϭ .81, and the negotiated sale price. Negotiated sale
price is a proxy of negotiation performance and is used extensively
in extant negotiations research (e.g., Dimotakis, Conlon, & Ilies,
2012; Flynn & Ames, 2006; Naquin & Paulson, 2003; Zerres,
Hüffmeier, Freund, Backhaus, & Hertel, 2013). Given that the
negotiation exercise was distributive, the negotiated sale price
reflected who did better or worse in the negotiation.
Results
Male behavioral assertiveness. ANOVA revealed a significant
effect of prevalence message, F(2, 30) ϭ 5.77, p Ͻ .01.
Female partners rated men who were exposed to a HPSM (M ϭ
4.41, SD ϭ 0.66) as more assertive than men who were exposed to
a LPSM (M ϭ 3.19, SD ϭ 0.64), t(21) ϭ 4.49, p Ͻ .01, or a
HPCSM (M ϭ 3.54, SD ϭ 1.16), t(19) ϭ Ϫ2.21, p Ͻ .05. There
was no difference in assertiveness for men who were exposed to a
LPSM or HPCSM, t(20) ϭ 0.92, ns.
Negotiation performance. The unit of analysis for this measure
was the dyad. Finding no significant effect of role assignment
on sale price, we collapsed across roles by transforming
the outcome into a standardized z score in which higher values
indicate better performance for the male negotiator (see Kray et
al., 2001).
ANOVA revealed a significant effect of prevalence message,
such that the standardized price was significantly higher in the
HPSM condition (M ϭ 0.99, SD ϭ 0.91) than in the LPSM
condition (M ϭ Ϫ0.01, SD ϭ 0.99) and the HPCSM condition
(M ϭ Ϫ0.10, SD ϭ 0.91), F(2, 30) ϭ 4.63, p Ͻ .05. Male
negotiators’ superior performance relative to female negotiators
was significant in the HPSM condition, t(20) ϭ Ϫ5.04, p Ͻ .01.
However, in the LPSM, t(22) ϭ 0.18, ns, and HPCSM conditions,
t(18) ϭ 0.20, ns, the difference between male and female negotiators
did not significantly differ from zero.
Mediation analysis. To assess whether male assertiveness
mediated the relationship between prevalence message and negotiation
performance, we followed the recommendations of
Preacher and Hayes (2004), who suggested using a bootstrapping
procedure to compute a confidence interval around the indirect
effect (i.e., the path through the mediator). If zero falls outside this
interval, mediation can be said to be present. We used the SPSS
macros recommended by Preacher and Hayes (2004) for this
procedure. Results of mediational analyses revealed a 95% confidence
interval ranging from 0.01 to 0.46 for the indirect effect. The
fact that zero falls outside this interval indicates a significant
mediation effect, p Ͻ .05 (MacKinnon, Fairchild, & Fritz, 2007;
Preacher & Hayes, 2004).
Discussion
Study 4 revealed that messages about the high and low prevalence
of stereotyping and the high prevalence of counterstereotyping
effort impact men’s behavior and performance on a competitive
task. Specifically, the HPSM provoked a greater level of male
assertiveness than the LPSM and the HPCSM, which undergirded
the relationship between prevalence message and performance.
These results lend further support to the assertion that messages
about the prevalence of stereotyping and counterstereotyping effort
influences individuals’ stereotyping and the reactions and
behaviors associated with those stereotypes.
General Discussion
Taken together, the results of our studies elucidate the impact of
prevalence of stereotyping and counterstereotyping effort messages
on individuals’ social judgments and behaviors and, thereby,
build on the significant advances of research that reveal the usefulness
of structured recall in mitigating stereotyping in certain
contexts (e.g., Baltes et al., 2007). Our findings were based on
investigation of three distinct social categories (i.e., older adults,
women, and the overweight) and were derived from different
measures of stereotyping, both implicit and explicit, which have
been used in previous work in this area (e.g., Macrae et al., 1994).
Specifically, in Studies 1a, 1b, and 1c, we demonstrated that
individuals who received a message indicating that the vast majority
of people stereotype expressed more stereotypes than those
informed of stereotyping infrequency. Using a more nuanced measure
of stereotyping behavior in Study 2, we replicated the results
in the previous studies and found that a HPSM actually increased
stereotyping, whereas a LPSM decreased it. In Studies 3 and 4, we
showed that the messages about stereotyping prevalence have
direct organizational implications. Specifically, in Study 3, working
professionals who received a HPSM were less willing to work
with an individual who violated a dominant stereotype than those
who received a LPSM and those who received a HPCSM. Finally,
in Study 4, males who received a HPSM dominated their negotiation
partner more than those who received a LPSM and those who
received a HPCSM.
Theoretical Contributions
Our current findings suggest several theoretical implications for
the literature on social norms, stereotype reduction, and gender and
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11CONDONING STEREOTYPING
negotiations. First, despite the preponderance of research examining
social norms, consideration of the impact of social norms on
expression of stereotypic thoughts and stereotyping has largely
been absent from investigation. Ironically, the re-emergent literature
on compliance to descriptive norms (for an example, see
Goldstein et al., 2008) only minimally references that work which
investigates the impact of normative appropriateness suppression
and expression of prejudice (Crandall, Eshleman, & O’Brien,
2002). Across a seven-study investigation, Crandall et al. (2002)
found that the normative appropriateness of prejudice impacted the
degree to which individuals were willing to express or suppress
prejudice. Whereas their work focused solely on societal norms on
expression of prejudiced attitudes, our findings demonstrate that
the impact of normative behavior expands beyond just perceptions
and beliefs to include actions. Furthermore, our findings suggest
that generalized societal norms of appropriateness may be overridden
by normative information derived from a more immediate
context. These results are consistent with findings that show that
specific business justifications provided by organizational superiors
are sufficient to override societal norms against bias and lead
to actual discrimination against minorities in hiring (Brief, Dietz,
Cohen, Pugh, & Vaslow, 2000).
Second, our findings qualify past empirical work that has shown
that heightened self-awareness of one’s propensity to engage in
stereotype expression decreases individuals’ discriminatory behavior
(Son Hing et al., 2002). Whereas awareness of one’s own
propensity to stereotype may mitigate stereotyping behavior, our
findings suggest that awareness of the general pervasiveness of
stereotyping behavior does not mitigate stereotypic expression
and, in fact, may have the opposite effect of increasing stereotyping.
Nevertheless, stereotyping behavior may be mitigated by
heightened awareness of others’ efforts to work against stereotyp-
ing.
We extended previous research in which stereotype reduction
was investigated using structured evaluation processes by utilizing
techniques that may be employed in more subtle (i.e., less structured)
evaluation contexts. Furthermore, by demonstrating how
stereotype prevalence messages may be used to mitigate stereotype
expression by a broad array of individuals all of whom may not
acknowledged being biased, we also built upon previous work that
has explored methods for diminishing the stereotyping behavior of
those who explicitly report being biased (e.g., Sherman et al.,
2005; Son Hing et al., 2002). Moreover, we focused on messages
that have the potential to reduce the expression of stereotypes
across a broad array of categories. Past research has been focused
on counterstereotyping interventions designed to exclusively target
a particular stereotyped group, but these studies do not demonstrate
how such focused strategies generalize in impacting perceptions
of other stereotyped groups.
Over the past decade, there has been a renewed interest in the
factors that cause differential outcomes for females and males in
negotiations (Barron, 2003; Bowles et al., 2007; Kray, Reb, Galinsky,
& Thompson, 2004; Kray et al., 2001, 2002). In large part,
this research has demonstrated that differences in outcomes may
be attributed to both differences in the role expectations of males
and females and in their negotiation competence. Our findings
suggest that the degree to which negotiators are motivated or
de-motivated to work against these biased expectations can significantly
impact the negotiation outcomes of negotiators from traditionally
stereotyped groups.
Practical Implications
Recent attention to stereotyping behavior has been focused on
the compelling evidence of studies using the IAT and other unobtrusive
measures, making the supposition that all individuals stereotype
widely accepted by academics and the general public.
Given this phenomenon and extant research on the role of attention
in general strategies for reducing undesired implicit influences on
judgment (Small et al., 2007; Wilson & Brekke, 1994; Wilson et
al., 2000), the message that everyone stereotypes but that we
should be mindful of our biases has been promulgated in many
business school classrooms, in the popular press, and hence in
organizations. For some, recognition that stereotyping is prevalent
has become a means of engaging a broader audience in the dialogue
without pointing fingers. The promise of such an approach
is that defensive responses associated with blame will subside and
individuals will become open to working against natural inclinations.
However, this supposition has overlooked the possibility that
publicizing the notion that everyone stereotypes might create a
descriptive social norm for stereotyping. Therefore, ironically, the
very approach purported to reduce stereotyping may backfire and
actually increase its occurrence. The results of our studies suggest
that to reduce stereotype expression and its effects, it might be
more useful to capitalize on social norms by highlighting the
pervasiveness of individuals’ willingness to exert effort against
their unconscious stereotypes. Recent natural experiments such as
the case study of gender at Harvard Business School support our
finding that the creation of a culture in which the majority is
believed to be working hard against stereotyping can have profound
impacts on the reduction of discrimination against stereotyped
groups (Kantor, 2013).
Here, we have focused on the impact of informing individuals
about the prevalence of stereotyping; however, our results may
have further reaching implications. Within organizations, management’s
misuse of normative information may not be contained to
the realm of stereotype mitigation. Recently, messages such as “as
an organization, we are all spending too much; we need to tighten
our belts” or “there is rampant self-interested and unethical behavior;
we need to be mindful of our actions” have been used with the
hopes of curbing biases, errors in judgment, and undesirable behaviors.
However, our research suggests that these admonitions
may not only prove ineffective, but they might actually exacerbate
unwanted perceptions and behaviors. It may behoove managers to
use alternate methods to reduce unwanted behavior.
This work may also shine a light on the subtle, or not so subtle,
messages that are conveyed to members of organizations about the
norms of stereotyping and bias. For example, the dearth of women
and minorities in organizations’ top tiers has long been documented
and lamented. Researchers, activists, consultants, and
practitioners consistently cite figures which show that most organizations
are underperforming when it comes to diversifying their
highest levels with members of traditionally underrepresented
groups (Bird, 2011; Catalyst, 2012). In many cases, these statistics
are meant to serve as a reality check and, hence, a catalyst for
positive change. Conversely, though, the underlying message to
decision makers may be that this issue is not a priority. Given that
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12 DUGUID AND THOMAS-HUNT
their competitors and other organizations are also lagging, they
may assume that their organization will not be seen in a negative
light if this matter is not addressed. Moreover, the perceived
widespread lack of importance conveyed by the statistics may also
impact lower level organizational members. Specifically, their
perceptions of the significance of diversification and of the social
status accorded to traditionally underrepresented groups may be
negatively affected. Perhaps the norms inadvertently established
by messages about the rampant glass ceiling effect may play a role
in what seems to be the sluggish demographic change at the top of
many firms.
Limitations and Future Research
Although the present studies yielded highly consistent findings
with important implications, there are limitations worth noting. In
calling attention to these limitations, we hope to simultaneously
suggest additional avenues for future research. First, most of the
studies involved an undergraduate student sample, which raises
concerns about generalizability. However, Study 3 consisted of a
sample of working professionals, and the findings were consistent
with the other studies. Regardless, future researchers should examine
the influence of stereotyping messages on working adults’
perceptions of stereotyped groups and behavior toward these
groups.
Second, in our studies, we empirically focused on women, older
adults, and the overweight. Our results are consistent across these
three categories, which span the degree to which the stereotyped
characteristic is, for the most part, perceived as immutable (gender
and the effects of aging), inevitable (aging), or changeable
(weight). Consequently, we believe that the underlying logic is
applicable to other categories. Nevertheless, further research
should examine the effects of stereotyping prevalence on a broader
array of stereotyped groups.
In addition, these findings inform our understanding of immediate
stereotype expression and judgment but not of longer term
manifestations. Future studies should examine whether exposure to
stereotyping prevalence information has lingering effects. Moreover,
we used experimental methods, but the use of stereotypes
may be more complicated in real-world situations.
In all of the studies, the prevalence of stereotyping or working
against stereotyping was conveyed in a message. Given this limitation,
future studies should examine different and also more
subtle ways of transmitting norm information. For example, researchers
could investigate whether individuals stereotype more
after reading one of the many newspaper articles that reference
individuals’ natural inclination to stereotype.
The current research is one of the first, if not the first, to
explicitly investigate the effects of messages conveying the prevalence
of stereotyping on social judgment and behavior. Therefore,
future researchers should examine moderators of and boundary
conditions to the demonstrated relationships. For example, in most
of the studies, the stereotypes associated with women, older adults,
and the overweight were not uniformly positive or negative. However,
the valence of the stereotypes may play an important role in
influencing the relationship between prevalence message and individuals’
judgments and behaviors. There is the possibility that
creating a norm for stereotyping may lead to preoccupation with
negative stereotypes since stereotyping tends to be perceived as a
negative behavior that ultimately disadvantages the stereotyped
group. Hence, in such cases, stereotypes that do not have a strong
positive or negative valence may be interpreted negatively. However,
for overtly positive stereotypes, there may be less of a
disparity between conditions, and valence may represent a boundary
condition. On the other hand, those exposed to a high prevalence
message may also react more to positive stereotypes and use
them in their decision making than those told that few people
stereotype or most people try not to stereotype.
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Received September 4, 2012
Revision received July 21, 2014
Accepted July 28, 2014 Ⅲ
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17CONDONING STEREOTYPING
8 How to Write a Research Proposal
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8.2 Designing a Research Proposal
506
10
Designing a Research Proposal
✓✓ To examine the role of the proposal within
research
✓✓ To inform readers of the criteria by which
successful proposals are judged
✓✓ To examine an example of a successful
research proposal
✓✓ To identify distinctions between quantitative
and qualitative proposals
✓✓ To provide a framework structure for a
research proposal
•• Introduction
•• What is a research proposal?
•• The reviewers’ assessment criteria
•• Quantitative and qualitative
research proposals
•• Is there a formula for writing
successful research proposals?
•• Outline of the proposed research
•• Summary
•• Recommended reading
Introduction
All researchers should be able to prepare a proposal for a research topic to a
professional standard. Being able to produce such a proposal is an important skill.
Intending doctoral students are required to prepare such a proposal when applying
for studentships and seeking formal registration for their project. Such requirements
are also common on many university Masters courses.
Outside of the academic arena, there are also many organisations that provide
funding for social research. Where this is the case, how do you convince a funding
body that may be assessing a large number of competing proposals that your
research is worthy of support in preference to the others that it will look at? You may
have a great idea that immediately captures the imagination, but are you capable of
transforming this idea into a feasible project?
The research proposal is the means by which we are able to demonstrate that we
are able to do this. As such, it allows us to spell out what exactly is the research
problem that we are intending to investigate, why this is worthy of investigation,
and how we intend to carry out the research. In putting such a proposal together
we shall not only need to demonstrate our knowledge of the area in which we are
interested, but also be required to show that we have the necessary methodological
competence and sensitivity to carry out the research.
This chapter covers the essential ground in constructing a high-quality research
proposal. Specifically, it considers:
• What is a research proposal?
• What is the value of a research proposal?
• What should be included in a good research proposal?
• How should a research proposal be structured?
• By what standards are research proposals assessed?
What is a research proposal?
The research proposal is an application that is prepared by a research student,
university academic, or professional researcher for support prior to embarking
upon a research study.
At one level, the objectives of a research proposal may be seen as providing
a statement about the purposes of the research, how it is to be carried out, the
resource implications of the proposed investigation, as well as the timescale for
completion. At another level, however, the research proposal is an argument.
Through the document, you are presenting a case, in which the intention is to
convince others of the general merits and feasibility of the proposed study.
The research proposal should therefore aim to convey three key aspects of an
intended research project:
1. its objectives and scholarly significance;
2. your technical qualifications; and
3. the level of funding required.
The objectives and scholarly significance of the proposed study
The general research issues to be examined, together with the methodological
strategy to be pursued, need to be carefully explained to the reviewer. Each must
also be fully justified.
The proposal, then, should communicate your specific intentions. This involves
a clear overview of the purpose of the proposed study and of its importance,
A Short Introduction to Social Research
250
together with a step-by-step plan for conducting it. The research problem(s)
needs to be identified, questions or hypotheses should be stated, and key terms
defined. You must specify and justify which target group is to be included
in the sample, together with the research design to be adopted, the research
instrument(s) to be used, the procedures to be followed, and the methods of
analysis to be used.
All of these aspects of the project should be covered, and at least a partial review
of previous related literature must be included. This will enable you to ‘ground’
your project theoretically – to make explicit links between this and existing ideas
and debates that are taking place within the wider academic or policy community.
The literature review will also enable you to demonstrate the suitability of your
proposed research strategy. Your case will be strengthened if you: (a) reference the
type of methods used by other authors in the past to conduct similar studies; (b) are
then able to demonstrate from this that you have appraised the effectiveness of
these approaches in generating data to examine the issues at hand, and therefore
justified your own choice of research strategy.
The technical qualifications of the researcher
This will need to be stated, whether you are a student intending to commence with
a Masters or doctoral research programme, or a project leader applying for funding
support. Your experience and level of expertise should be carefully set out, in terms
of both your knowledge of the subject area and your methodological ‘qualifications’
and skills. (Note that when applying for funding, it should not be assumed that by
‘experience’, precedence is inevitably given to those who are well published with
a long history of research in the field, over new and aspiring researchers. As we
shall see, an application is judged on the basis of the applicant’s track record to
date, which will be measured against the particular stage reached in her or his
academic career.)
The level of funding required
It goes without saying that all review committees will need to be convinced that
the intended project provides ‘value for money’. This, as we shall see, does not
necessarily mean that cheapest is always best. Instead, it requires that the researcher
provides evidence that she or he has carefully costed the proposed project, and that
the level of funding sought is warranted, given both the aims and objectives of the
study and the methods to be used to implement it.
If yours is a proposed Masters dissertation or doctoral thesis, and you are not
applying directly for financial support, you will nonetheless need to convince the
course team that you have access to sufficient resources to complete your study.
Designing a Research Proposal
251
The reviewers’ assessment criteria
The essential criteria for assessment of the research proposal will be broadly the
same, regardless of which body the prospective researcher is targeting. This will be
the case, whether or not you are applying for funding from an external agency or a
university research committee, or to a postgraduate course team in order to receive
its approval to proceed with a postgraduate dissertation. The proposal should
contain sufficient information to persuade both specialist and non-specialist
members of the review committee that the proposed activity is sound and worthy
of support under their criteria for the selection of projects.
Activity 10.1 Review Committee’s judgement
of a research proposal
What do you think the research review committee will consider most
important in assessing a research proposal? Make a list of the
areas that you think members of such a committee would focus
upon when considering a research proposal.
But what are the key criteria that such bodies
use to assess a research proposal?
The criteria most typically used by review committees to measure the potential of
your research proposal can be listed as:
• Track record
• Originality
• Feasibility
• Clarity
• Outputs
Activity 10.2 Review committee assessment criteria
Consider the assessment criteria listed above. Which do you think the
research review committee will consider most important in assessing a
research proposal? How would you rank them in terms of their priority
for such a committee? For each, write short notes explaining why you
think it is a low- or high-level criterion for review committees.
A Short Introduction to Social Research
252
Clarity
The assessors will be scrutinising a research proposal to ensure that there is an
internal coherence to the project:
• Is it clearly thought through in terms of what you have set out to do?
• Is there a clear identification of the research problem that you intend to investigate?
It will be anticipated – indeed expected – by the review committee that the research
proposal will not be deficient in these areas. Therefore, clarity is a low-level criterion.
Very few research proposals would be expected to fail because they lacked internal
coherence.
Feasibility
Can you achieve what you initially set out to do in your proposal (within your
budget and your estimated timescale, and using your initial research strategy)?
You should think through your research plans carefully, and try to anticipate all
possible issues and detours that you may encounter during your study. But the review
committee will be sufficiently experienced in these matters to appreciate that research
programmes cannot be precisely mapped out, particularly for emergent qualitative
research studies. Certainly, the notion of ‘delivery within budget’ is a red herring.
And there will be issues that arise during the course of your study which may
impact upon your initial methodological strategy – issues that you could not
realistically have predicted at the outset. Perhaps these will be in terms of access
difficulties encountered, or sickness of a key ‘gatekeeper’, or ethical matters that
arise additional to those discussed in your research design.
Feasibility is an important issue, and the review committee will use this as one
of the criteria upon which they will assess your research proposal. However, risk
will take precedence over predictability. Producing a book on time is of course
important, but the review committee will ask the question, ‘will the book be read
by 5, or 500, or 5,000 people?’ before they ask, ‘will the applicant meet his/her
deadline?’ Similarly, If you can demonstrate that your research is innovative, then
your proposal is likely to be considered very seriously by the review committee.
The exciting, yet expensive, research idea has a greater likelihood of approval than
a proposal that is considerably cheaper, but is nonetheless not as inspiring.
Feasibility is an important criterion therefore – more so than clarity – but it is
nonetheless a relatively low-level one.
Track record
Understandably, if your research proposal is to be assessed competitively against
those submitted by other candidates, the review committee will take into account
Designing a Research Proposal
253
the track records of each applicant. But an established track record by itself is
certainly no guarantee of success. And review committees will be realistic enough to
appreciate that a ‘new’ researcher can only develop a good track record if bodies like
their own provide the researcher with the support to embark upon a research career.
Furthermore, such committees will have different expectations of ‘new’ and
more ‘long-standing’ applicants. Indeed, a good track record can be achieved even
at a relatively early stage for researchers. The expectations held by assessors of
what counts as a good track record is relative to the stage of a research career
achieved by a particular applicant. New and aspiring researchers should therefore
pitch their application for research support appropriately. Typically, the route to
be taken is a ‘staged’ one. It involves the aspiring student applying initially for
a university postgraduate course. Paid academic research posts, or practitioner
research posts, are likely to follow only after qualification. Such a trajectory may be
a long and arduous one, but achieving a good track record comes only with talent
and hard work.
Outputs
This is a very important criterion, more so than those already mentioned. The
review committee will be particularly interested in supporting project proposals
that have the potential for achieving publication, or which may have ‘utility’ for the
wider policy community.
Extract 10.1 provides an example taken from a (successful) research proposal –
the Youth and Politics project (Henn and Weinstein 2000) – that was awarded a
research grant from an external research-funding agency (the Economic and Social
Research Council). Here, the applicants were required to demonstrate the relevance
of the research for different user groups.
Notice that there are very explicit statements from the funding agency concerning
its expectations about:
• the usefulness of the proposed research for this community;
• that there is evidence that such organisations and individuals have had some
input into the design of the research;
• that the research is of sufficient interest to practitioners that they may have
provided tangible support to the project (perhaps in terms of part-funding or a
letter of support).
You may not have been able to achieve this level of external support, but it will
significantly add to the robustness and credibility of your research proposal if you
can demonstrate that it has importance to the wider practitioner or policy-making
communities. This will be the case regardless of whether or not you are applying
for external funding for research, or you are preparing a research proposal for a
thesis.
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254
EXTRACT 10.1 Youth and Politics project (Henn and Weinstein 2000)
Relevance to ‘user’ groups
Please explain below the likely contribution to policy or practice; details of
consultation with user groups (such as public, private and voluntary sector
practitioners and policy makers) in the development of the research and
proposed collaboration/communication with such groups during the research
should be included. Details of any potential co-funding or support in kind should
also be included here. Do not exceed one side.
1. The proposed research will be of value to policy users and to the wider political
community. In previous research, we have dealt with a number of agencies
and organisations that have links to youth, including amongst others, the
Institute for Citizenship, the Citizenship Team at the Department for Education
and Employment, the National Union of Students, various trades unions (notably
the GMB), and the party youth sections. Meetings will be held to further progress
these links through the research, in terms of: the design of the research and
the survey questionnaire; testing out the plausibility and utility of the research
findings; the dissemination of the findings through presentations at the end of
the research. Together, these organisations will be able to provide invaluable
advice and support to the project.
2. Non-technical summaries and briefing papers shall be disseminated to
various policy users and other interested groups, including those mentioned
in 1. above, but also others such as the British Youth Council, the Young
Fabians, as well as all members of the Crick Commission, and think-tanks.
3. Academics will be consulted during the design stage of the research –
particularly in terms of discussion of theoretical issues in the development of
the questionnaire.
4. Research results will be communicated to the academic community via
conferences (the annual meetings of the UK Political Studies Association and the
British Sociological Association) and academic journals (papers will be submitted
to the ‘British Journal of Political Science’, and ‘Sociology’ in the first instance).
5. Earlier research that we have conducted has already been widely
disseminated through the national and local media. It is anticipated that the
proposed research will lead to similar levels of media exposure, and press
releases will be produced for this purpose.
Originality
Members of a review committee who are charged with the task of reviewing your
research proposal will recognise that the project’s perceived contribution to the
Designing a Research Proposal
255
external users, or its potential for publication in an academic journal, or to gain a
good pass on a Masters course, will be largely dependent upon its originality. The
potential to generate new knowledge is the key to a good research proposal. If you
can convince the review committee that you have met this criterion, then and only
then will they assess your proposal on the basis of the other criteria mentioned
above. By the same token, if you fail to convince these assessors that you have an
original idea that you intend to investigate through your proposed project, then the
reviewers are unlikely to consider your application further.
But different types of reviewer will have different yardsticks against which to
measure ‘originality’:
1. External funding agencies (higher education funding councils like the ESRC,
charitable funding bodies like the Nuffield Foundation) – will assess originality
in terms of an expected significant contribution to knowledge likely to follow
from the proposed research.
2. Ph.D. review committees – will look for indications that the intended study
programme has a significant potential for publication.
3. Masters supervisors – will be concerned that the dissertation proposal will lead
to an authentic and independent research project.
So, how will you discover your ‘big idea’?
It is likely to develop organically from your own research interests. Most
importantly, you must read widely – adopting too narrow a focus in your reading
may limit your ability to discover your research question. You must look consciously
for it. This will by necessity involve you in one or more of the following:
• Developing an awareness (through reviewing the literature and/or attending
conferences) of the research which is currently being developed in your field. As
you do so, search for an idea which you consider to be significant by its omission
from your field. Try to identify what is conventionally referred to as a research
gap in your chosen area.
• Challenging current thinking in your field (to do this requires you to be aware
of the key issues and debates in your subject area first of all).
• Applying an existing idea to a new field or a different academic or policy
context. This may not involve you in developing a ‘new’ idea as such, but the
way in which you use that existing idea will be innovative. It therefore has the
potential to make an original contribution to knowledge. An example might
involve you examining a marketing technique that is used widely within the
general field of business studies, and researching the extent of its usage by
political parties in their campaigning. Through your research, you may gain a
greater understanding of the development of modern electioneering methods.
The research proposal is therefore an important document. As such, it will take
significant time, effort, and patience to get it right. It will also likely involve the
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256
preparation of several drafts, as well as feedback from colleagues in the field, before
it is ready for submission. But such preparation has some important potential benefits
for the project. Submitting the research proposal enables an expert review committee
to evaluate the merits of your research plans, and in so doing – especially where they
may offer suggestions for revision – provides important ‘expert’ insight into how to
improve the study.
Quantitative and qualitative research proposals
Prior to the drafting of a research proposal, the nature of the research design to be
selected should be set out. Whether one is intending to adopt a broadly qualitative
research design, or a strategy that is largely quantitative in nature, is likely to affect
the shape and format of the research proposal. Of course, those charged with
reviewing proposals would have very clear expectations that certain content will be
included in the proposal, regardless of the intended research strategy. However,
some elements of a quantitative research proposal will not be included in a
qualitative research proposal, and vice versa. Furthermore, quantitative research
proposals are likely to be more uniform than those designed for broadly qualitativebased
studies. As K.P. Punch (1998, pp.269–70) notes:
It is easier in many respects to suggest proposal guidelines for a quantitative
study, since there is greater variety in qualitative studies, and many qualitative
studies will be unfolding rather than prestructured. An emerging study cannot
be as specific in the proposal about its research questions, or about details of the
design. When this is the case, the point needs to be made in the proposal.
In the remainder of this chapter, the core elements of a research proposal will be
reviewed. Where appropriate, the specific aspects that are necessary for drafting
either a qualitative or a quantitative proposal will be noted.
Is there a formula for writing successful
research proposals?
A research proposal, then, is a written plan for a study. It spells out in detail what
the researcher intends to do. It permits others to learn about the intended research,
and to offer suggestions for improving the study. It helps the researcher to clarify
what needs to be done, and aims to avoid unintentional pitfalls or unknown
problems.
Before examining what a research proposal might look like, it is important to be
aware that what will be suggested in the remainder of this chapter is intended to
serve as a general framework, not a definitive set of instructions. The only general
rule that must always be adhered to is that the research proposal should be both
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succinct and complete. Other than that, each university research committee or
external funding agency will have its own expectations about the actual format of
the research proposal, and some will be more explicit than others in this respect.
Research proposals often vary significantly in terms of length. In some cases,
application forms that prescribe precisely what is wanted will need to be completed.
In others, the researcher will have more latitude to decide upon the format of the
proposal.
However, the onus will be on the researcher to ‘bend’ to meet the requirements
of the university review committee or external funding agency.
Outline of the proposed research
In the absence of any forms or guidelines, there are general themes that you might
use to structure your own research proposal, whether this is for a postgraduate
dissertation, or an application for external research funding. However, what
follows are ‘elements’ of a proposal – you do not need to have each as a particular
heading.
Title page
This should include each of the following: your name, the title of the proposed
project, any collaborating agencies which have been involved in the preparation of
the proposal, the date of submission, and, if applicable, the funding agency to
which you are applying for support.
Abstract
The abstract is a brief synopsis of the planned research investigation. It appears at
the front of the proposal, but it is usually the last element to be written. It should
include two key areas – the major objectives of the proposed study, and the
procedures and general methodological strategy that are to be used in order to meet
these objectives. The abstract should be approximately one page or less in length.
The abstract is an important strategic element of the proposal, and therefore
should be afforded considerable attention in the drafting of your proposal. It serves
three key interlinked purposes:
• The reviewer usually reads it before the full proposal to gain a perspective of the
study and of its expected significance.
• The reviewer uses it as a reference to the nature of the study if the project comes
up for discussion.
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• It will sometimes be the only part of the proposal that is read when making
preliminary selections of applicant proposals.
Read through Extract 10.2. As you do so, look carefully at the two aspects of an
abstract outlined above, and note how they are covered.
EXTRACT 10.2 Abstract: Youth and Politics project (Henn and Weinstein 2000)
Conventional wisdom holds that young people in Britain are alienated from the
political process. Moreover, some have suggested that there is an ‘historic
political disconnection’ of youth from formal party politics, with this group more
likely to participate in new politics formations. Paradoxically, there is a recognition
that formalised youth activities are a potentially significant aspect of party
development. They serve the purposes of recruiting the future political elite,
raising political awareness among young people, and widening the pool of party
activists. The aim of this project is to reveal the level of engagement that young
people have with party politics in Britain. Specifically, the research will examine
whether there is a crisis of democratic legitimacy in terms of the attitudes of
young people toward party politics. It will also investigate differences in this
respect, along socio-demographic and spatial lines. Importantly, regional analysis
will enable an examination of the efficacy of new political institutions in Wales,
Scotland and London for strengthening levels of young people’s political
engagement. Quantitative data will be collected by means of a national postal
survey of young people. This will be the first British nation-wide study to focus
exclusively on first-time voters with only limited experience of formal politics.
Activity 10.3
Think about a research project that you intend to conduct. Write an
abstract of between 200 and 250 words, setting out (a) the general
issues and debates/or policy field that you intend to engage with
through your study, (b) your specific aims and objectives, and (c) the
research strategy that you propose to follow to meet these objectives.
Research problem to be investigated
There are usually four areas to be addressed in this section of the research proposal:
the purpose of the proposed study, a justification for the project, the specific research
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questions that you intend to explore, and a definition of the key terms and concepts
that you will examine. However, you will write only one section. This must contain
all of these four aspects; you will not deal with each under a separate heading.
Purpose of the study
This section expects you to state succinctly what the research proposes to
investigate. The purpose should be a concise statement, providing a framework to
which details are added later. Generally speaking, any study should seek to clarify
some aspect of the field of interest that is considered important, thereby contributing
both to the overall knowledge in the field and to current practice.
Justification for the study
The researcher must make clear why this particular study is important to
investigate. You must present an argument for the work of the study.
As an example, you might be interested in the general field of organisation studies.
If you intend to study a particular method through which a local authority deals with
harassment at work, you need to make a case that such a study is important, and that
people are or should be concerned with it. Perhaps it is particularly prevalent in a
particular department compared to the overall situation within the local authority.
You might indicate that previous studies have identified a pattern of harassment
that is linked to poor morale within the workplace, increased incidences of people
suffering from occupational stress, and high levels of absenteeism. Or perhaps, where
the issue is not checked, it may lead to poor industrial relations. The net result either
way may lead to an erosion of quality within the particular department, and a decline
in public confidence in the service.
Alternatively, you may be interested in conducting a research study which aims
to evaluate the effectiveness of ‘care in the community’ solutions for mental health
patients. Existing research may indicate that since the introduction of the current
arrangements, there has been a marked increase in the general suicide rate amongst
this group, or perhaps an expansion in the rate of homelessness among people with
severe learning difficulties.
You must also make clear why you have chosen to investigate the particular
method adopted by organisations to tackle such problems. In many such proposals,
there is the implication that current methods are not adequate to tackle the problem
seriously.
Coley and Scheinberg (1990, p.41) have developed a useful framework for
conceptualising issues for research that helps to justify how research may reveal
interesting new insights into the problem. The framework may not, in its entirety,
be appropriate for all styles of research, but the general method they adopt is a
useful way of beginning to think about how you may structure the ‘case’ for your
proposed study:
People with ‘A’ characteristics and background live in ‘B’ conditions/environments
and have ‘C’ problems/needs that are caused by ‘D’.
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People are blocked from solving these problems because of ‘E’. This problem
is related to other problems ‘F’, and have ‘G’ short- and long-term impact if not
addressed.
The impact of their needs/problems on the community is ‘H’. Others have
addressed their needs/problems by doing ‘I’, the result of their interventions
have been ‘J’.
The most promising strategy for intervention now is ‘K’.
Key questions to ask yourself at this point are:
• Have I identified the specific research problem that I wish to investigate?
• Have I indicated what I intend to do about this problem?
• Have I put forward an argument as to why this problem is worthy of
investigation?
The research questions
The particular research questions that you intend to examine should be stated
next. These are usually, but not always, a more specific form of the problem in
question form. For quantitative researchers, research hypotheses will be set out at
this stage for reasons of clarity and as a research strategy. If a researcher has a
hypothesis in mind, it should be stated as clearly and as concisely as possible. It is
unnecessarily frustrating for a reader to have to infer what a study’s hypothesis or
hypotheses might be. Examples of the research questions that were to be pursued
in the Youth and Politics project noted in Extracts 10.1 and 10.2 are included in
Extract 10.3.
For qualitative researchers, especially those adopting an emergent research
design, the actual research questions and hypotheses will not become clear until the
research has begun. Typically, these begin to take shape in the course of data
collection and analysis. As K.P. Punch (1998, p.270) notes:
If a tightly structured qualitative study is planned, the proposal can proceed
along similar lines to the quantitative proposal. If a more emergent study is
planned, where focus and structure will develop as the study proceeds, this point
should be made clearly (in the research proposal). In the former case, there will
be general and specific questions. In the latter case, there will only be general
orienting and guiding research questions.
Key questions to ask yourself at this point are:
• Have I asked the specific research questions that I wish to explore through my
research?
• Do I have any hypotheses in mind? If so, have I expressed them clearly and
appropriately?
• Do I intend to investigate a relationship between different phenomena or
variables? If so, have I indicated the variables that I think may be related?
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EXTRACT 10.3 Key research questions: Youth and Politics project
(Henn and Weinstein 2000)
• Popular understanding of parties.
• Are young people indifferent, or even hostile to political parties?
• What, if anything, do they like about them?
• Do their attitudes towards parties significantly differ from those of other
sections of the population (such as their parents’ generation)?
• Is there evidence to suggest that young people are now more disaffected from
parties than at any time since the introduction of universal suffrage?
• And is there a case for arguing that young people, given their particular
socialisation and formal educational experiences, might actually be more
predisposed to party appeals?
Activity 10.4
Write down a list of five key questions that you aim to research in
your project. As you do, make brief notes to remind yourself why you
are asking these questions – what do you aim to achieve in doing so?
Definitions of key terms and concepts
All key terms should be defined. In a quantitative hypothesis-testing study, these
are primarily the terms that describe the variables of the study. Your task is to make
your definitions as clear as possible. If previous definitions found in the literature
are clear to all, that is well and good. Often, however, they need to be modified to
fit your proposed study. It is often helpful to formulate operational definitions as a
way of clarifying terms or phrases. While it is probably impossible to eliminate all
ambiguity from definitions, the clearer the terms used in a study are – to both you
and others – the fewer difficulties will be encountered in subsequent planning and
conducting of the study.
For instance, if you are conducting a study which involves researching
harassment at work, you will want to examine different aspects and dimensions
of this key concept. One of these may be violence, and you should carefully define
this by taking account of the different forms of violence – physical, verbal, and
emotional. Now review the section on operationalising concepts in Chapter 3.
In an emergent qualitative-based research study, however, the key concepts that
you intend to engage with in your research will not all be clear to you at the outset
of your research. The key issues, their dimensions, and how you intend to define
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them will only become clear in the course of the actual empirical investigation.
Where this is so, you should state this clearly within your proposal.
A key question to ask yourself at this point is:
• Have I defined all key terms clearly and (if possible) operationally?
Review of the literature
In a research proposal, the literature review is a partial summary of previous work
related to the focus of the study. You will need to demonstrate to a review committee
that you are familiar with the major trends in previous research as well as opinions
on the topic, and that you understand their relevance to your planned study. The
major weakness of many literature reviews is that they cite references without
indicating their relevance or implications for the planned study.
You need to review the literature comprehensively prior to the development of
your research proposal – in order for instance to identify a research gap that will
serve as a stimulus for your study. However, the space available for you to develop
this in your research proposal will be limited. You will therefore need to be concise
and succinct in your review.
Cormack (1984) provides a useful overview of the three key uses of a literature
review. It will:
• provide you with a wide range of documentary information on facts, opinions,
and comments concerning the topic to be investigated;
• help you to discover whether the topic has already been studied, and, if so, to
what extent your work will be affected;
• help you to decide which research techniques will be most appropriate for your
study.
In the early stages, the literature review will consume much of your time and
energies. However, it should be regarded as a continuous process, with new
information added as the project proceeds.
You should take a structured approach to your literature search. Ask yourself,
what information are you after? If you are going to use word searches on CD-ROMs
or the Internet, you should list all the possible keywords and synonyms that you
consider to be relevant to your research question(s). You should also be clear about
which timescale you intend to cover in your project (only articles since 1991?), and
what the geographic boundaries are that you intend to work within (Australian but
not Canadian studies?). Finally, you should be flexible about the range of material
that you consider for your literature review – especially if your initial searching
fails to uncover a sufficient body of literature for your study. For instance, you may
consider studies that investigate the sources and impact of occupational stress in
the teaching and nursing professions, and how these experiences apply to the fire
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service in terms of the implications for safety. Or perhaps in a project focusing on
youth engagement with politics, you might find it valuable to consider studies that
examine the political participation of ethnic minority groups. For more information
about consulting the literature, see Chapter 9.
Key questions to ask yourself at this point are:
• Have I surveyed and described relevant studies that are related to my research
problem?
• Have I surveyed existing expert opinion on the problem?
• Have I summarised the existing state of opinion and research on the problem?
Methodology to be used for conducting the research
The methodology section should include a discussion of your intended research
design, the sample you will examine, the instruments to be used to conduct the
investigation, procedural detail for collecting your empirical evidence, and the data
analysis technique(s) to be used.
Research design
The particular research design to be used should be identified, as well as how it
applies to the present study. You therefore need to ensure that your choice of
approach is justified in this section (see Extract 10.4). Typically, the basic design is
fairly clear cut, and fits one of the following models:
• Survey research
• Historical research
• Experimental research
• Observational/ethnographic research
• Documentary research
However, you may want to use a variety of approaches. Combining methods and
strategies may help to add depth to your study, as well as enable you to identify
whether your approach is valid and reliable. See Chapter 3 for a discussion of this
mixed method research design.
Emergent qualitative research designs may involve you in approaching your
methods more flexibly during the course of the study. As K.P. Punch (1998, p.273)
explains, when opting for such a research design: ‘There is a need to explain the
flexibility the study requires and why, and how decisions will be made as the study
unfolds’.
Nonetheless, you should be as explicit as you can be in your proposal about the
general research design that you intend to use, and provide as much material about
your plans as you are able.
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EXTRACT 10.4 Youth and Politics research proposal
(Henn and Weinstein 2000)
As you read through this extract, notice how the two methods are justified with
respect to the project aims and objectives.
Focus on attainers
As a methodological innovation, we will focus exclusively on ‘attainers’ – young
people eligible to vote for the first time when the 2001 electoral register comes
into force. As far as we are aware, the proposed study would be the first of its kind
to focus solely on attainers. Our intention in limiting our study to this age group is
twofold. Firstly, in research terms, attainers are a relatively unique target group.
Most social and political surveys that examine the views of young people tend to
combine their views with older youths. Hence, attainers will typically be analysed
as part of an 18–24 (or 18–25) year old group (see, for instance Parry et al. 1992)
or included in studies of students (e.g., Denver and Hands 1990), often alongside
respondents with an increasingly mature age profile as Higher Education is opened
up to new entrants. Secondly, they will have had minimal formal experience of
participating in politics in terms of voting, with the possible exception of the 2001
local elections.They are, therefore, relatively inexperienced politically in comparison
to older people and are therefore less likely than their older contemporaries to
have formed deep-seated views about politics, parties and politicians. As a
consequence, attainers provide a fascinating target group for study in terms of
their perceptions of political institutions and actors in Britain. The study will form
the baseline for understanding future developments in youth attitudes of, and
orientation towards, British political parties as these attainers gain experience of
engaging with politics. There is potential therefore to track attitudes over time for
comparative purposes.
Activity 10.5
Decide what is to be the research design for your intended study.
State clearly why you have chosen that particular approach in terms of
the aims and objectives you set out for your project in Activity 10.4.
Sample
In your proposal, you should indicate in considerable detail how you will include
participants – the sample – for investigation in your study. You should indicate
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what the size of the sample will be, how members will be selected, and what claims
you may legitimately make about the representativeness of your sample. For a
quantitative research study, you should aim, if at all possible, to adopt a random
sampling technique, or, if this is unrealistic, a quota sampling method should be
used in an attempt to maximise representativeness.
However, for small-scale projects of the type likely to be undertaken by
postgraduate students where your study will be subject to various resource
constraints, it may be legitimate to use other less rigorous sampling methods such
as the convenience sample. It is more important to complete a project with an
unrepresentative sample than abandon the study because it fails to achieve a
sample that is representative of your target group. If a convenience sample must
be used, relevant demographics (gender, ethnicity, occupation, age, housing, and
any other relevant characteristics) of the sample should be described. The
legitimate population to which the results of the study may be generalised should
be indicated.
For emergent qualitative research designs, you are likely to use theoretical
sampling to select your research participants. Where this is the case, you are much
more likely to include respondents whose presence is designed to maximise
theoretical development than to achieve representativeness. Your reasons for
choosing this sampling strategy should be indicated (and justified) within this
section of the research proposal, together with an acknowledgement that: (a) the
sample has been chosen to generate insights (as opposed to definitive conclusions)
about your research area; and (b) the results will be indicative, rather than
representative, of the views of the wider population. For a further discussion of this
point, see the section on case selection from Chapter 3.
Key questions to ask yourself at this point are:
• Have I described my sampling plan?
• Have I described the relevant characteristics of my sample in detail?
• If you are using a predominantly quantitative research design, have I identified
the population to which the results of the study may legitimately be generalised?
• If you are using a predominantly qualitative research design, have I demonstrated
that my selection of cases is reasonably typical of what might be expected if I had
conducted my research elsewhere?
Instruments to be used
Whenever possible, existing research instruments should be used in your study,
since construction of even the most straightforward test or questionnaire (or
selection of questions) is often very time consuming and difficult. Furthermore,
doing so will enable you to make comparisons between your findings and the
results from the earlier study from which the research instrument was borrowed.
However, you cannot justify using an existing research instrument if it is not
appropriate for your purpose, even though it may be more convenient. You will
therefore need to assess whether existing instruments are suited to your needs.
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In the event that appropriate instruments are not available, the procedures to be
followed in developing your own research instruments to be used in the study
should be described with attention to how validity and reliability will be enhanced.
It will be important to indicate within your proposal that you intend to build a pilot
stage (Extract 10.5) into your project, or, if the research instrument has already been
tested for these purposes, include a version within the appendices. For example, if
you are conducting a survey, you should include a specimen questionnaire or some
questions that you consider to be good illustrations of what you will ask. For a more
qualitative research design, you might include an observation schedule, or a topic
guide for in-depth interviews.
EXTRACT 10.5 Pilot stage: Youth and Politics research
proposal (Henn and Weinstein 2000)
As you read through the following extract, you will notice how a pilot study has
already been conducted to examine both what sorts of question areas will likely
need to be explored for the qualitative part of the project, and how the quantitative
aspect will take advantage of an existing research instrument.
Pilot research
A qualitative-based pilot study, using focus groups, has already been completed
by the research team in preparation for this full project (Henn, Weinstein and Wring
1999). This preliminary research was designed to help establish which questions
should be asked, as well as their structure. We will also hold meetings with various
party youth activists and youth organisers, interested user groups, and academics in
order to further our understanding of which questions to include in the questionnaire.
In addition, the proposed survey will include questions that appear on other national
political opinion studies to enable comparative work with other age groups (including
amongst others, the British Social Attitudes surveys, the British Election Studies
surveys, and the British Election Panel surveys). Considerable attention will be paid
to the design and layout of the questionnaire to ensure an attractive presentation of
the postal survey.This will draw on previous experience of conducting postal surveys
of this particular target group (Wring, Henn and Weinstein 1999; Henn, Weinstein and
Wring 2000). A pilot study will be conducted in the Nottingham area in order to test
the efficacy of the questions to be used in the postal survey.
Key questions to ask yourself at this point are:
• Have I described the instrument(s) to be used?
• Have I indicated their relevance to the present study?
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• Have I stated how I will check the reliability and validity of my data collection
instruments?
• Have I built a ‘piloting the instrument’ stage into the research design?
Procedures and data collection
Outline your proposed method(s) of research. This should be presented in sufficient
detail for the reader to know whether the project is realistic, feasible, and worthwhile.
You will need to describe how you intend to access your target group, and contact
your research participants. Is your target group one that is typically difficult to
involve in research studies of your kind? If so, what steps will you take to maximise
your response rate, and minimise bias? What method of data collection will you
use? For instance, if your proposed study involves the use of a questionnaire, you
should indicate whether you intend to use a self-completion version, or implement
it in a face-to-face situation, or via the telephone.
It is important to make your procedures of data collection clear so that if another
researcher wants to repeat the study in exactly the same way as the original, you
have made your procedures as clear as possible so they can be replicated. Certain
procedures may change from those previewed in the proposal as the study is carried
out, but a proposal should always aim to have this level of clarity as its goal. Explain
why you think this is the best method for investigating the research problem.
A key question to ask yourself at this point is:
• Have I fully described the procedures to be followed in the study – what will be
done, where, when, and how?
Data analysis
The researcher should indicate how the data to be collected will be organised,
interpreted, and analysed. You should explain which statistical procedures and
tests you intend to use for quantitative-based studies, and why you are choosing to
do so. Similarly, if you intend to conduct a qualitative research study, then you
should indicate the methods of analysis you will use to analyse the data. Perhaps
you intend to quantify the results obtained from your unstructured interviews?
If your project is more emergent in nature, you may be proposing to adopt a
grounded theory approach.
Ethical considerations
The review committee will have been alerted to any potential or any actual ethical
problems likely to arise from your proposed study while reading the methodology
section. The proposal may be reviewed by a committee whose primary objective is
to assess the scientific methods of a study, but they will also be aware of ethical
issues.
It is important that you anticipate gaining written consent from adults or
parents or guardians when members of your target group cannot themselves give
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approval. Ethical matters may also be relevant to protecting these research
participants from any negative consequences of your study. However, you will also
need to demonstrate to the review committee that you have taken adequate steps
to ensure that both yourself and others associated with your intended project are
protected from harm, particularly if the research situation is one that has the
potential to place people in positions of danger.
At some point in the proposal it is necessary to indicate clearly what you regard
as the major ethical issues of the project, and to state clearly how these will be
handled. Alternatively you may state that the proposal raises no ethical issues. In
order to complete this section effectively and convincingly, you should pay close
attention to the ethical guidelines that are set out in the codes of conduct that many
academic and professional organisations have developed. For a full discussion of
ethics, see Chapter 4.
Timescale
The amount of time you need to devote to the study should be set out in the
proposal. It may be that this is a proposal for a full-time commitment or for only a
few hours in a week. But whichever is the case, the research proposal must specify
the amount of time involved (Extract 10.6). The review committee will need to know
how long the project will take when considering whether to fund it, or, if yours is a
proposal for a Masters dissertation, whether the project can be finished within your
deadline.
EXTRACT 10.6 Timetable for the Youth and Politics project
Completion of all preparation and design work (3 months); commencement of
survey data collection phase of study (3 months); completion of survey
data collection phase of study (6 months); commencement of analysis phase
of study (6 months); completion of analysis phase of study (14 months);
commencement of writing up of the research (12 months); completion of
preparation of any new datasets for archiving (14 months); completion of writing
up (18 months).
Facilities and resources
Describing particular forms of expertise or backup facilities can strengthen a
proposal. Good computer and library facilities fall into this category. Where
established networks are integral to a project, or co-operation has been obtained
from particular agencies or institutions, some indication of this, like a letter of
agreement, may be included as a helpful appendix.
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Budget
Preparing a research budget is as much a skill as preparing other parts of the
proposal. Part of the skill lies in locating other people who know the price of all
appropriate commodities: staff time, tape-recorders, photocopying, travel costs,
and so on. Preparing a budget means translating the timescale and plan of work
into financial terms.
In preparing a budget, use a checklist to include main headings such as:
• Research salaries
• Data collection costs (purchase of equipment and other materials, printing,
travelling expenses)
• Stationery and postage
• Data analysis expenses
Pre-submission
It is likely that a research proposal will go through many drafts. Indeed, there
would be major cause for concern if it did not. There are a number of things to be
achieved in reviewing a proposal – not least considering its physical presentation.
Legibility, lucidity, and clarity of presentation are all important. While readers of a
proposal will not be evaluating its presentation, the relatively small amount of time
it takes to ensure a layout that is easily followed will be time well spent.
Check carefully that the proposal meets all of the criteria set by the review
committee.
Perhaps most importantly, ask colleagues to read and comment upon your
proposal, and take any criticisms that they may have of it seriously. As Hessler
(1992, p.287) states:
We assume too much, taking for granted the nuances and assumptions of our
research, which is tough on readers who do not share this knowledge ... take
nothing for granted. If in doubt, spell it out, even to the point of repeating
yourself. Redundancy is not the worst sin in grant writing.
SUMMARY
This chapter has reviewed the process of constructing a research proposal, setting
out the main points that need to be considered in producing a professional and
convincing document. As we have seen, in any proposal it is of paramount
importance that the research that is envisaged is clearly articulated and is of value
to the body looking to support the research.
In assessing your proposal, a reviewer will also be looking to see that your
proposed study is a feasible one. As well as capturing a reviewer’s imagination
with the subject of your research, you will have to satisfy the reviewer that you
are in a position to carry the research out to a high standard. Having a bright idea
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is the starting point from which you have to construct a compelling case that your
research is not only interesting, but also capable of execution.
In this respect the reviewer will be looking for you to demonstrate your
methodological proficiency and sensitivity. For example, have you adequately
addressed the complexities of the sampling strategy that will need to be adopted
and are you fully aware of any potential issues that may preclude you obtaining
access to your intended research participants?
As we have seen, there are different audiences for different sorts of research
proposals. If your research is intended to be carried out as part of a Masters
course at a university, you may be primarily focused on persuading your tutors
that you have located your research in a particular body of specialist literature.
On the other hand, if you are applying for funding from an external agency that
places a high premium on policy-oriented research then you will need to convince
the reviewing panel that your research not only is of academic interest, but also
has wider societal value.
Of course, all reviewers will have their own set of criteria by which they will
judge the proposals that come before them. Unfortunately, there is no easily
applied formula that can be applied to all research proposals that can guarantee
success. However, the more consideration that you have been able to give to the
research you plan to carry out, reflecting on the outline elements that have been
covered in this chapter, the more likely it is that you will have produced a
proposal that stands up to keen scrutiny.
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Social Inclusion: Perspectives, Practices and Challenges
within the Visegrad Region
SOC607
Course Reader
2017
Text selection by PhDr. Andrej Findor, M.A., Ph.D.; Doc. Ing. Anna
Kadeˇrábková; Mgr. Lenka Kissová; George Ligeti, Ph.D., Csc.; Marcjanna
Nó˙zka, Ph.D.; Dušan Ondrušek, Ph.D.; Mgr. Ivana Rapošová
Reader editors Lenka Kissová, Ivana Rapošová
Typeset with LATEX by Peter Kotvan
Cover page by Michal Kotvan
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