FIFTH EDITION

Edited by
STUART H. TRAUB A.ND CRARG B. LITTLE
State University of New York at Corti and
Cortland, New York

F.E. Peacock Publishers, Inc.

ltasca. IllinOIS
 Th~ori~s of D~vidn(~
FIFTH EDITION

I~I ZApADoCeSKA UNIVERZITA

W PRAvNICKAKNIHOVNA

HENle MNE!
 To Our Children ...
Contents
Adrianne, Heather, Matthew, and Tanna

Preface h
Introduction xiii

CHAPTER I FUNCDONALISM 1
Introduction
1 The Normal and the Pathological, Emile
Durkheim 4
2 The Sociology of Prostitution, Kingsley
Davis 9
3 On the Sociology of Deviance, Kai T. Erikson 22
Analysis and Critique
4 The Functionalist Approach to Social
Problems, Melvin Tumin 30
Contemporary Application
5 "Log on to Sex"; Some Notes on the Carnal
Computer and Erotic Cyberspace as an
Emerging Research Frontier, Keith F. Durkin
and Clifton D. Bryant 42
CHAPTERII SOCIAL DISORGANIZATION 63
Introduction
6 The Concept of Social Disorganization, W. 1.
Thomas and Florian Znaniecki 67
7 Social Change and Social Disorganization,
Robert E. Park 71
8 Natural Areas of the City, Robert E. L. Faris
and H. Warren Dunharn 74
Copyright © 1999 Analysis and Critique
FoE. Peacock Publishers, Inc. 9 The Professional Ideology of Social
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 98-68251
Pathologists, C. Wright Mills 83
ISBN 0-87581-419-0 Contemporary Application
Printed in the U,S.A. 10 Community Structure and Drug Use: From
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 a Social Disorganization Perspective,
05 04 03 02 01 00 99 Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 107

v
CHAPTER In ANONIIE 127 Contemporary Application
Introduction 25 Turning Points in the Life Course: Why
11 Anomic Suicide, EnUle Durkheim 131 Change Matters to the Study of Crime,
12 Social Structure and Anomie, Robert K. John H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson 348
Merton 142 CHAPTER VI LABELlNG AND DEVIANCE 375
13 Illegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant
Introduction
Behavior, Richard A. Cloward 174
26 111€ Dramatization of Evil, Frank Tannenbaum 380
Analysis and Critique 27 Primary and Secondary Deviation, Edwin
14 The Sociology of the Deviant Act: Anomie M. Lemert 385
Theory and Beyond, Albert K. Cohen 195 28 Career Deviance, Howard S. Becker 390
Contemporary Application 29 The Role of the Mentally ill and the
15 Anomie and Corporate Deviance, Nikos Dynamics of Mental Disorder: A Research
Passas 210 Framework, 1110mas J. Scheff 397
CHAPTER IV DIFFERENTIAL ASSOCIATION AND NEUTRALIZATION 233 Analysis and Critique
30 Societal Reaction and Career Deviance: A
Introduction
Critical Analysis, Milton Mankoff 415
16 The Theory of Differential Association,
Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey 237 Contemporary Application
17 Other People's Money, Donald R. Cressey 244 31 Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: TIle
18 Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Development of Deviant Identities,
Delinquency, Gresharn M. Sykes and David Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 434
Matza 251 CHAPTER VII POLITICS AND CLASS IN THE STUDY OF DEVLANCE 449
Analysis and Critique Introduction
19 The Current State of Differential Association 32 Symbolic Crusade, Joseph R. Gusfield 454
Theory, Ross 1. Matsueda 261 33 The Social Reality of Crime, Richard
Contemporary Application Quinney 462
20 The Influence of Situational Ethics on 34 The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance:
Cheating Among College Students, Donald Nuts, Sluts, and 'Preverts,' Alexander Liazos 472
1. McCabe 292 35 Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance,
Steven Spitzer 495
CHAPTER V CONTROL THEORY 303
Analysis and Critique
Introduction
36 The New Criminology: Continuity in
21 A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment
Criminological Theory, Robert F. Meier 513
Theory; Walter C. Reckless 306
22 A Control Theory of Delinquency, Travis Contemporary Application
Hirschi 312 37 State-Organized Crime-The American
23 The Nature of Criminality: Low Self- Society of Criminology; 1988 Presidential
Control, Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Address, Williarn J. Charnbllss 529
Hirschi 329
Analysis and Critique
24 Social Control Theory, LaMar T. Empey 343
CHAPTER VIII NEW DIRECTIONS IN DEVIANCE THEORY
Introduction
38 Medicine as an Institution of Social Control:
Consequences for Society, Peter Conrad and
Joseph W. Sclmeider
39 Social Change and Crime Rate Trends: A
Routine Activity Approach, Lawrence E.
Cohen and Mareus Felson
40 Understanding Crime Displacement: An
Application of Rational Choice Theory,
Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke
41 A Theory of Criminal Behavior, James Q.
Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein
42 The Class Structure of Gender and
Delinquency: Toward a Power-Control
111€ory of Common Delinquent Behavior,
jolm Hagan, A.R. Giltis, and John Simpson
43 Feminist Theory, Crime, and justice, Sally
S. Simpson
44 Crime, Shame and Reintegration, folm
Braithwaite
Name June.;\:
Subject Index
557
Preface
563
596
631 This book has been a joint effort since its first edition in 1975. 'This edi-
tion, our fifth, is an indication of our continued commitment to the so-
646 ciology of deviance, to students, and to the balance we bring to this
collaborative effort. We are indeed grateful to our former teachers, the
input we have received horn students over the years, the suggestions
from colleagues, and the assistance we have received from our publlsher,
656 our department secretary, and others who have contributed in immea-
surable ways to this edition.
673 Our objective in this fifth edition of Theories o/Deviance remains the
same as in the earlier editions: to expose students to theoretical foun-
702 dation statements from diverse perspectives within sociology_ We be-
lieve that a large part of the writing and research concerning deviance
715 emanates from a relatively small number of key passages, which ought
733 to be read in the original. We continue to see substantial value in offer-
ing students a varied-as opposed to uniform-theoretical background
for the study of deviance. We believe that examination of seminal con-
tributions heightens critical insight and appreciation for the complexities
of theory construction, and the selections in the first seven chapters of
this edition represent what we see as the mainstream approaches in the
sociology of deviance. In this edition we also consider some more re-
cent approaches in the final chapter entitled "New Directions in De-
viance Theory."
Because these principles remain important to us in our own teaching
and in the organization at this edition, many of the readings in prior
editions continue to appear, The Analysis and Critique sections at the
end of each chapter have also been retained. We have, however, added
a new section in each chapter, entitled JlContemporary Application."
We believe that this will help to extend the scope and flexibility of the
text as a teaching tool. The critiques expose students to the scholarly
debate that is central to the theoretical development of any field, while
the contemporary applications exemplify current developments of the
theories of deviance as well as their usefulness in guiding research. As in
prior editions, we continue to include the essay on social struchrre and
ix
 anomie from Robert Merton's Social Theonj and Social Sb'lIctllre (Macmil- Thanks also to Jodi Tallini for her assistance in securing author and pub-
lan, 1968), rather than the more frequently reprinted article of tile Sanle lisher permissions, and to Krista CarltoTI, Matthew Ryan, and Gilda
title from the Amel1call Sociological Review (October 1938).ln this case, we Haines for their help with this new edition.
believe that students can acquire a fuller understanding of anomie the- Finally, as we have noted in the preceding editions of this text, the
ory by reading Merton's more complete formulation of it. order of our names on the cover was decided by a flip of the coin and
In addition to the new Contemporary Application selections, we does not imply that either of us contributed more than the other. Thus,
have included other new readings for a number of the chapters. For in- we share equally the responsibility for its success and its shortcomings.
stance, in Chapter IV we have replaced the reading in the Analysis and
Critique section with Ross Matsueda's article, "The Current State of Dif- Stuart H. Traub
ferential Association Theory"; in Chapter V we have included WaIter Craig B. Little
C. Reckless's article, "A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment Theo-
ry," as well as an excerpt from A Genei·al Theon) of Crillle, by Michael R.
Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi. Chapter VIII on new directions includes
new selections on Hagan, Gillis, and Simpson's power-control theory,
Sally S. Simpson's analysis of feminist perspectives, James Q. Wilson
and Richard J. Herrnstein's discussion from Crime and Human Nature,
and John Braithwaite's Crime, Shame alld Reilltegratioll.
VVhile there is considerable theoretical breadth in the readings se-
lected for the fifth edition of Theories of Deviance, we do not think this
will confuse students with disorganized eclectism. The flow of the text
follows the development of the sociology of deviance from nineteenth-
century functionalism to the societal reaction school, and the last chap-
ter is devoted to what we perceive to be current issues in the literature.
In selecting the readings, we have sought to help students recognize
cross-fertilizations, compatibilities, counterpoints, and current devel-
opments we have chosen to have represented. Readers must be aware, of
course, that every selection should be interpreted as a product of the
historical context in which it was written.
We gratefully acknowledge the authors and publishers who have
granted permission for their works to appear in this text. We continue to
be indebted to Richard A. Dodder, Richard J. Gelles, and Arnold S. Lin-
sky for their insightful reaction to the selections and chapter introduc-
tions in the first edition. In addition, we extend our appreciation to Barry
Cohen, Robert G. Dunn, and James D. Orcutt for their reactions and
suggestions concerning the second edition. The fourth edition benefit-
ed from the comments of Phil Brown, Joseph Harry, Ronald Kramer,
and Richard O'Toole. This fifth edition benefitled from the detailed sug-
gestions, especially concerning contemporary research articles, of Ruth
Seydlitz and Susan F. Sharp, as well as comments on the readings by a
number of other reviewers. Once again, we express our gratitude to Ted
Peacock, president, Richard Welna, publisher, John Beasley, and Kim
Vander Steen for making this latest enterprise a pleasant one for us.
 Introduction

Explaining why some members of a society deviate from its commonly

accepted rules, or norms, seems always to have fascinated students of
society. Plato apparently wrote The Republic to explain the aberrant be-
havior of many Athenians, which he interpreted as symptomatic of an
underlying social pathology.1 From this early utopian treatlse to Au-
guste Comte's call for a separate science of society, and continuing to
the present, social philosophers often have been concerned with inves-
tigating the relationship between social order and disorganization, social
control and individual liberty, and conformity and deviance.
In this text we have not reached back into the earliest foundations of
theories of deviance for our selections. We readily acknowledge that
our starting point is somewhat arbitrary. Nevertheless, we want to make
it clear that concern for deviance is not an exclusively modem phe-
nomenon, and theories to explain it are not entirely contemporary de-
velopments. As American sociologists, we are mainly interested in the
origins and themes found in American sociological theories of deviance. 2
In Chapters I-VU we sketdl broadly the evolution of the theories we
have chosen to present and define the relationships among them. In
Chapter VID, we introduce several more recent, emergent theories or
approaches.
The French sociologist Emile Durkheim (1858-1917) has surely had
a more profound impact on American sociological theorizing about de-
viance than any other classical European theorist. It was Durkheim who
most dramatically gave sociology its raison d'etre by arguing that social
facts such as crime rates or suicide rates can be explained adequately
only by analyzing uniquely social conditions such as the breakdown in
the norms that operate throughout a society. Durkheim's approach was
radically sociological because it required the theorist to remain at the

xiii
 xiv Introduction
societallevel of analysis for explanations of social phenomena, rather
than searching for presumed psychological or biological causes,
Durkheim was clearly opposed to the analytical individualism of
his contemporaries, such as the Italian criminologist Cesare Lombroso
(1836-1909). Lombroso, generally acknowledged as the founding father
of modern criminology, is best known for his biological theory of
atavism, which states that criminals are evolutionary throwbacks to ear-
lier stages of physiological development. This aspect of Lombroso's the-
ory is an attempt to explain deviant behavior at the individual level of
analysis by reference to the most rudimentary biological determinism,
wherein social environmental factors are all but ignored. Durkheim, to
the contrary, argued that the existence of crime in a society could be ex-
plained without searching for pathology-producing anomalies in the
indiyjdual's physical makeup or psyche. Crime, according to Durkheirn,
actually helps to maintain a society as a healthy, surviving entity. Thus
crime can be accounted for in terms of the functions it performs or the
positive contributions it makes to the adaptation and survival of the so-
ciety. As used in Chapter I, therefore, the term functionalist refers to the
theory of Durkheirn and those who have built upon it.
David Matza has remarked that the principal legacy of the func-
tionalists was to establish and extend "appreciation" for deviance as a
natural product of human collectivities. 3 In doing this, functionalism
contributed to the elimination of the initial assumption that deviance is
a pathological tralt of the individual or society that must be "cured."
However, this contribution was not directly introduced into American
sociology until many years after it was ·developed. Durkheim did most
of his writing during the late 18005, but it did not have a significant im-
pact on American sociology until Talcott Parsons directed attention to its
importance to the functionalist approach in the mid-1900s'
When the earliest American sociologists, members of the Depart-
ment of Sociology at the University of Chicago, studied social problems
and deviance in the 1920s and 1930s, they organized most of their work
around the idea of social pathology. The Chicago School, as it became
ImoVITTI, included theorists such as W. 1. Thomas, Robert E. Park, Ernest
Burgess, Clifford R. Shaw, Henry D. McKay, Robert E. L. Faris, and H.
Warren Dunham, who were reacting to the rapidly increasing hetero-
geneity or diversity of American society during the first third of the
twentieth century. For these writers, social ills such as juvenile delin-
quency, suicide, and mental illness were essentially urban problems that
could best be understood through a detailed analysis of the urban set-
ting. Their ecological studies of Chicago neighborhoods established that
differential rates of deviance could be found in various areas of the city,
Introduction xv
and, further, that the areas with high rates of deviance were socially dis-
organized.
Social disorganization theory, which is considered in Chapter il,
proposed that rapid immigration, industrialization, and urban growth
were tending to disrupt or inhibit stable, well-organized patterns of life
guided by mutually agreed-upon rules of conduct. As the rules disinte-
grated during periods of rapid social change, standards to regulate peo-
ple's behavior and relationships were weakened or disappeared. The
resulting social disorganization in areas that were also characterized by
other problems such as transient populations, speculative real estate
practices, and high rates of disease created fertile ground for social
pathologies.
The functionalist and social disorganization perspectives converged
in American sociology, if somewhat indirectly, in Robert K. Merton's
anomie theory, which is discussed in Chapter Ill. The idea of anomie
was first proposed by Durkheim, who conceptualized it as a condition of
"normlessness" in a society. Not unlike the Chicago theorists, Durkheim
suggested that as social rules become less binding due to decreasing
consensus in a complex society, people feel less constrained by social
norms. As a consequence, evidence of deviance such as crime and sui-
cide is bound to increase. Although this social condition was called
anomie, or nonnlessness, by Durkheim, the Chicagoans spoke of it as so-
cial disorganization. Both hypothesized that increasing rates of deviance
are the result of structural conditions in society.
Merton was even more explicit in specifying the societal sources of
the breakdown in a consensus about norms and the conditions under
which different types of deviance are most likely to emerge. His argu-
ment was that when virtually all people in a society are taught to seek
culturally prescribed goals (such as occupational success and money)
that everyone cannot attain because some do not have access to the le-
gitimate means by which these goals can be secured, the result will be
higher rates of deviance. A prediction derived from Merton's theory is
that deviance will be more prevalent in the lower socioeconomic class-
es than in the higher classes because people in the lower classes are less
likely to have available to them the legitimate means to success. There-
fore, they will be under more strain to use illegitimate means to attain
the culturally prescribed ends.
Every sociologist was not satisfied with this sort of reasoning, how-
ever. One who reacted strongly to it was Edwin H. Sutherland, who of-
fered as an alternative to Merton's analysis his theory of differential
association, presented in Chapter N. Sutherland raised two important
points about anomie theory. First was the question of how it explains
 xvi Introduction
crime outside the lower class (generally, white-collar crime). Middle-
and upper-class people presumably have access to the legitimate means
to success, yet there is evidence of a great deal of white-collar crime.
The problem then is how to explain crime among those who do have ac-
cess to legitimate means of success. Second, Sutherland's standard of
an adequate theory was that it mllst apply to every single case it is sup-
posed to explain. The method of theory construction he used was ana-
lytic induction, which amounts to stating a hypothesis or series of
hypotheses about a phenomenon such as crime. If a single case of crime,
for example, fails to correspond to a hypothesis about crime, the theorist
must redefine that case as something other than a crime. If this is not
possible, the hypothesis must be modified to include the case.
Sutherland's theory of differential association states that individuals
learn criminal techniques and motives in association with others, in ex-
actly the same ways they learn noncrirninal behavior and motives. The
primary condition for criminal behavior, therefore, is association with
others whose definitions are favorable to violation of the law. Suther-
land's theory is a very general one that is intended to explain criminal
behavior in any social class. In contrast to Merton's anomie theory,
which deals with rates of deviant behavior under specified circum-
stances, differential association theory distinctly focuses on the interac-
tive (learning) aspects of becoming deviant. The other theorists
discussed in Chapter N also draw attention to how, under certain con-
ditions, people go through a process of learning, rationalizing, and de-
cision making that makes deviant behavior possible.
In control theory, presented in Chapter V, attention was shifted from
exclusive concern with the processes involved in becoming deviant to
factors considered important in maintaining conformity. The focal point
in understanding deviance clearly, then, is explaining why the majority
of people do not deviate. Control theorists pointed out that while indi-
viduals are motivated to violate norms, most people are contained or
controlled by various forces from action upon these impulses. Rather
than explaining deviance in terms of international patterns, as socio-
logical learning theory proposed, they viewed deviance as an outcome
of inadequate socialization. Most individuals conform because internal
and external controls are strong, routes to goal achievement are not re-
stricted, and there is a high degree of sodal integration, as evidenced by
the individual's attachment to others and the normative structure of so-
ciety. Deviance results where these controlling mechanisms break dovm
or deteriorate.
A number of theorists, also identified with the University of Chica-
go tradition, have continued the emphasis on interactive processes as
Introduction xvii
well as the effects of control agents on deviance production, but they
have focused on the consequences for the individual of being tagged
with the label deviant. What happens, for example, when a young person
who engages in a prank or minor crime is arrested and officially de-
clared a juvenile delinquent by the courts? The consensus of the labeling
theorists presented in Chapter VI is that a person who is officially la-
beled a deviant:
1. May be more inclined to see himself or herself as an outcast
and act accordingly.
2. May be blocked from the opportunity to take on nondeviant
roles due to an unsavory reputation.
3. Because of 1 and 2, may be more likely to seek the moral and
physical support of others who have been similarly stigma-
tized with a deviant labeL
As a result, subcultural communities of deviants are formed.
Labeling theory concentrates on the results of interaction betvveen
the alleged deviant and those in the society who seek to sanction such an
individual. The theory clearly suggests that social control agents, rather
than reducing or "correcting" the behavior they are reacting to, may in
fact be perpetuating this behavior and solidifying the labeled person's
self-image as deviant. At the same time, these agents are creating con-
ditions under which deviant subcultures flourish at the group level by
establishing the need of those so labeled for physical and moral sup-
port from others.
One effect of labeling theory has been to shift attention away horn
the individual deviant and toward those persons and groups in society
vvith the power to designate certain individuals or actions as deviant.
This is also the emphasis in Chapter VII, "Politics and Class in the Study
of Deviance." Several theorists concerned with the conflict and political
aspects of deviance offer a response to the question of how certain types
of behavior come to be defined as "deviant" in the first place. An es-
sential assumption is that, as Durkheim carefully noted in his function-
alist argument, no behavior is i1lherently deviant. Rather, conformity and
deviance are established by adherence to or disregard for the standards
adopted by a particular group, community, or society. A behavior is of-
ficially classified as deviant when it harms or offends those with enough
political power to pass a law against it, or when labeling that behavior as
deviant appears to serve their interests. joseph R. Gusfield (Reading 32)
argues that the ability of members of an interest group to define as de-
viant the behavior commonly associated with members of some out-
group itself significantly enhances their own power, prestige, and status.
xviii Introduction
The other theorists represented in Chapter VII not only expand
upon these views, they offer critical reactions to all of the theories pre-
sented in the preceding chapters. These theorists contend that, too often
in the past, theorizing about deviance concentrated on a "dramatic de-
viant," without examirting carefully the role of advanced capitalism in
the production of deviance and deviant populations. The selections by
Richard Quinney, Alexander Liazos, and Steven Spitzer represent
attempts to redress this class bias in deviance theories by explicitly
taking into account the role of the state and the political-economic elite
in the creation of deviance and the formulation and application of crinl-
inallaw.
From one viewpoint, theories of deviance that emphasize politics
and class appear to be an outright rejection of their predecessors. How-
ever, it is important to note the debt these critics owe to the targets of
their sometimes harsh words. Durkheim insisted on the need to look
further than the biological or psychological constitution of the individ-
ual for explanations of deviance. The American social pathologists who
sought causes in social disorganization also wanted to understand de-
viance at the societallevel of analysis. While C. Wright Mills (Reacting 9)
condemned the middle-class ideology of social pathologists for placing
too much blame on the individual, even he would probably have agreed
with Matza's conclusion that both Durkheim and the Chicagoans made
a major breal(through in their search for societal causes of deviance. s
We have suggested that functionalism and social disorganization
theory seemed to merge in Merton's extension of Durkheim's anorrue
theory. In Merton's "Social Structure and Anomie" (Reacting 12), the ex-
planation of deviance remains very much at the societallevel, with the
imbalance between cultural goals and institutionalized means described
as the key causal factor. Sutherland's alternative to Merton's approach
was the theory of differential association (Reading 16), which proposed
an explanation of crime at the interactionallevel of analysis. A some-
what different view was expressed by control theorists, who sought to
explain deviance as a failure of adequate socialization to conform rather
than as the outcome of socialization in deviant subcultures and the ac-
ceptance of nonconforming values. The labeling perspective on deviance
emerged from a concern about the consequences of being labeled for
the individual. Theorists in the political-economic tradition have em-
phasized instead the dynamics behind the labeling of certain behaviors
as deviant. The common thread linking all of these theories is a move-
ment toward an understanding of deviance as more than simply the
bizarre, idiosyncratic, pathological behavior of individuals that, like ill-
ness or disease, must be treated and cured.
Introduction xix
Chapter VIII, "New Directions in Deviance Theory," presents some
recent developments in the field. The first selection reviews the conse-
quences of conceptualizing deviant behavior as a medical problem. To
the extent that deviance is conceptualized as an illness rooted in bio-
logical or psychological pathology, the medical establishment becomes
the arena for its control. The "medicalization of deviance," discussed
by Conrad and Schneider in Reading 38, has been a major theme in the
orchestration of social control during the latter half of the twentieth cen-
tury. A medical explanation of deviance necessarily assumes a lack of re-
sponsibility on the part of the aberrant individual for his or her behavior.
Those who are sick or biologically "flawed" can hardly be held ac-
countable for behavior that flows from their "pathology." Indeed" the
claim that a person who committed a criminal or a deviant act was men-
tally ill, and therefore not responsible for his or her behavior, is one al-
ternative legal defense in a criminal court.
In sharp contrast to biological approaches that account for deviance,
the "rational choice" perspective assumes that deviants make calculated
decisions about how they act, and the most effective deterrents to
deviance are those that are designed to minimize opportunities to devi-
ate. The underlying differences between the biological and rational-
choice approaches date back more than 100 years. Positivists sought
explanations for behavior that employ factors such as genetic constitu-
tion over which the individual has no control. Classical theorists sought
explanations that emphasize humans' capacities to make conscious
choices about how they behave. The unresolved debate between posi-
tivist and classical theorists continues today: How much deviance is de-
tellllil1ed by factors or forces over which the individual has no control?
And how much is a result of individuals exercisingft-ee will in a rational
calculation to commit deviant acts? Three selections in the final chapter
(Readings 39, 40, and 41) are broadly founded on the "rational-choice"
perspective.
An alternative viewpoint is to stress the importance of class and
gender to understanding patterns of deviance. New theories are emerg-
ing that attempt to account for gender differences in deviant behavior
(Reading 42) while older theories of deviant behavior are critiqued from
tile viewpoint of gender bias (Reading 43).
Our anthology's final selection by John Braithwaite (Reading 44)
illustrates the cumulative process of good theory building and presents
a comprehensive theoretical model that echos the insights supplied by
many foregoing theories of deviance. Whereas the labeling perspective
led to the dead-end conclusion that reacting to deviance will only mal(e
it worse, therefore suggesting that doing nothing about aberrant
xx Introduction

behavior is our most constructive recourse, Braithwaite's theory of

reintegrative shaming specifies the conditions under which strong re-
actions to deviance can have the intended consequences of effective so-
CHAPTER I
cial control.

NOTES
Functionalism
1. Robert Nisbet, The Social Philosophers (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co.,
1973), pp. 105-117.
2. Throughout this book we use the term theory in its broadest sense. For our
purposes, a theory is a proposed explanation of an event or phenomenon.
3. David Matza, Becomillg Deviallt (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall,
1969), pp. 31-37.
4. Talcott Parsons, TIle Structure of Social Actio/! (New York: McGraw-Hill To say that something ful£ills a function usually means that it serves some
Book Co., 1937).
useful purpose or need. The function of the circulatory system in higher an-
5. Matza, Becoming Deviant, pp. 31-32
imals, for example, is to satisfy the body's needs for nourishment, oxygen,
and the removal of waste (among other things). It seems reasonable to as-
sume that in the ever-evolving biological world, most organs or systems
that are developed and retained by any particular species exist because they
satisfy some need; that is, they serve some function. If they were not func-
tional, they would not persist. This sort of reasoning found expression in
Darwin's theory of natural selection in biology and is the foundation of the
functional perspective on deviance in sociology.
The major hypothesis in sociological functionalism is that recurrent
sodal processes serve the function of maintaining a social system. With
the larger whole (for example, a society or social group) as the unit of
analysis, a social pattern is studied in terms ofits functions or the positive
part it plays in the adaptation and persistence of the system. As in Dar-
win's biolOgical modet in sociology functionalism posits that established
social institutions or patterns of behavior would cease to exist if they did
not serve some positive function. All social activities therefore are studied
with an eye to how they contribute to the maintenance and continuity of
the society Or group. For the functionalist, recurrent patterns of both con-
ventional and deviant behavior exist and survive in groups and societies
because each serves some useful purpose or need.
Reading 1 is from Emile Durkheim's classic book The Rules of Socio-
logical Method, originally published in 1895. Durkheim begins by observing
that crime and criminals are present in all societies. Therefore, he reasons,
crime must serve some social function; otherwise, it would not universal-
ly exist. The members of various societies may choose very different types
of behavior to label as crime, but because every society contains crimi-
,..."1,, ,..,..-i,..,..,,,, ....",,,1- ha f",....-J-in,..."l fn1" ,,11 IOn ... ioH",c
 2 Functionalism
According to Durkheim, crime contributes ID the maintenance of a soci-
ety by providing its members with targets for collective moral outrage, and
this creates greater cohesion in the society. Further, when the criminal is tried
and punished, crime provides a dramatic opportunity to publidze the rules of
the society ID all of its members. But criminal activity can also be a catalyst for
positive social change. For example, American civil rights demonstrators in the
middle of the twentieth century frequently broke the existing segregation
laws as a form of protest. In the eyes of the law at that time, those activists
were criminals, but their lawbreaking paved the way for a more just, defen~
sible legal order. For Durkheim, the criminal or deviant should be regarded
not as an tlllSodable being or a parasite but as one who plays a definite and
necessary sodal role. Durkheim's apparent homage to the criminal antici-
pates what David Matza has called the "appreciation" of deviance and de-
viants. 1 Rather than viewing deviance as a pathology to be cured, the
sodologist is encouraged to search for ways that nonconforming behavior
contributes to the maintenance of the sodal group.
Reading 2, "The Sociology of Prostitution," by Kingsley Davis, closely
follows Durkheirn's functionalist reasoning in response to an initia1 ques-
tion: ""Vhy is it that a practice so thoroughly disapproved ... can yet flourish
so universally?" He begins by observing that to maintain order in most so-
cieties it is necessary to link sexuality to social ends such as bearing and rear-
ing children. In this way the "morally legitimate" practice of sex is restricted
to the family. However, since sexual behavior in males is not inherently lim-
ited by any social arrangement, prostitution is a functional institution be-
cause it provides them with an opportunity for impersonal, transitory sex
outside the family.2 This reasoning leads to the conclusion that prostitution
functions as a safety valve for the short-term gratification of sexual desires
without the elaborate, intense social commitment of marriage. According to
Davis's functionalist analysis, the family and prostitution are complemen-
tary institutions.
in Reading 3, "On the Sociology of Deviance," Kai T. Erikson discusses
the functions of deviance in the community. He describes communities as
"boundary maintaining"; follOWing Durkheim's lead, he argues tl,at deviants
are necessary in a community to help identify the normative boundaries
(rules) for its members. in thts way the deviant actually contributes to com-
munity stability. Erikson describes a social scheme in which the deviant
would appear as a natural product of group differentiation. He is not a bit of
debris spun out by faulty social machinery, but a relevant figure in the com-
munity's overall division of labor. Erikson implies, however, that the deviant
cannot alone create or maintain a community's normative boundaries. Iden-
tification and maintenance of normative boundaries result from interactions
(often dramatic, such as those in trials or executions) betvveen deviants on the
,.,.,..,a 'h.,.n,4 ",nrl ..1... a "'''''T\1T\1"n;h,'", "'(Ta ......" ,.,.~c,.,.,-i"'l
Functionalism J
TIle functionalist argument introduced by Durkheim was one of the ear-
liest contributions to a sociology of deviant behavior, and it has continued
to have considerable impact on the development of deviance theory up to
the present. At the same time, it has been subject to a broad range of criti-
cisms, such as those offered by Melvin Turnin in Reading 4, the Analysis and
Critique section for this chapter. While functionalists now seem to recognize
that any institution or behavior can have eufunctions (positive consequences)
and dysfunctions (negative consequences), there is no way to decide defini-
tively the total, overall impact of behavior such as crime. Indeed, one is al-
ways forced back to the question: For what or for whom is a given institution
or activity functional? Crime is, after all, at the same time eufunctional for
the criminal and dysfunctional for the victim.
Tumin also notes that functional analysis is usually ahistorical. That is, it
rarely examines the effects of an institution or pattern ofbehavior over time.
And finally, although functional analysts ciaim to tal<e a neutral, value-free,
scientific approach, there seems to be an underlying bias in their work that
implicitly brands some social problems (such as prostitution) as "good," by
emphasizing their positive functions, and others (such as poverty and racism)
as "bad," by emphasizing their negative functions.
In the Contemporary Application selection, Reading 5, Keith F. Durkin
and Clifton D. Bryant apply functionalist reasoning to interpret the social
meaning of electronic erotica. They say, for example, that the relatively new
phenomenon of computer sex can be seen as an electronic aphrodisiac-in ef-
feet a functional alternative to other forms of sexual stimulation. They also
point out that computer communication can be highly efficient as a "social
consolidation mechanism," linking large numbers of people with sirrriJar
sexual persuasions, and it can be a "mechanism of metamorphosis" by trans-
forming sexual reverie into deviant reality through an individual's cyber-
space contact with like-minded sexual deviants. More broadly, this article
leads us to consider how new interactive technologies, such as computers,
fulHll the various social functions related to creating new types of "commu-
nities/J and their boundary maintenance.
NOTES
1. David Matza, BecomiJ1g Deviaut (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall,
1969), pp. 3G--37.
2. A careful reader will immediately note a sexist bias in the Davis piece,
which implies that only mell might need to have available an institution
such as prostitution to satisfy their sexual appetites outside marriage.
Thus an apparent value-free, neutral theoretical analysis may actually
have behind it the hidden agenda of justifying existing social arrange-
,..,.,..............1 (.....,.,.1'.,..a ",,4rta,,, ..... "'~,_ .,...".... ~"'_ ...... ,..."'H,....... 1\,\""'1" ..... 'r................ 11 .. ..-1", .. ~,..; .... H~", A....... h,,,,,, "' .... ..-1 r ...1\-',.,,,a
 4 Functionalism
1 The Nonnal and the Pathological
EMILE DURKHEIM
Crime is present not only in the majority of societies of one particular
species but in all societies of all types. There is no society that is not
confronted with the problem of criminality. Its form changes; the acts
thus characterized are not the same everywhere; but, everywhere and al-
ways, there have been men who have behaved in such a way as to draw
upon themselves penal repression. If, in proportion as societies pass
from the lower to the higher types, the rate of criminality, i.e., the rela-
tion betvveen the yearly number of crimes and the population, tended to
decline, it might be believed that crime, while still normal, is tending
to lose this character of normality. But we have no reason to believe that
such a regression is substantiated. Many facts would seem rather to in-
dicate a movement in the opposite direction. From the beginning of the
[nineteenth1 century, statistics enable us to follow the course of crimi-
nality. It has everywhere increased. In France the increase is nearly 300
per cent. There is, then, no phenomenon that presents more indisputably
all the symptoms of normality, since it appears closely connected with
the conditions of all collective life. To make of crime a form of social
morbidity would be to admit that morbidity is not something accidental,
but, on the contrary, that in certain cases it grows out of the fundamen-
tal constitution of the living organism; it would result in wiping out all
distinction between the physiological and the pathological. No doubt
it is possible that crime itself will have abnormal forms, as, for example,
when its rate is unusually high. This excess is, indeed, undoubtedly
morbid in nature. What is normal, simply, is the existence of criminali-
ty, provided that it attains and does not exceed, for each social type, a
certain level, which it is perhaps not impossible to fix in confonnity
with the preceding rules. 1
Here we are, then, in the presence of a conclusion in appearance
quite paradoxical. Let liS make no mistake. To classify crime among the
phenomena of normal sociology is not to say merely that it is an in-
evitable, although regrettable phenomenon, due to the incorrigible
wickedness of men; it is to affirm that it is a factor in public health, an in-
tegral part of all healthy societies. 111is result is, at first glance, surpris-
ing enough to have puzzled even ourselves for a long time. Once this
Reprinted with the permission of TIle Free Press, a Division of Simon & Schuster from
Tile Rules of Sociological Method by Emile Durkheim, translated by Samh A. Solovay and
John H. Mueller. Edited by George E. G. Catlin. Copyright © 1938 by George E. G.
Catlin; copyright renewed 1966 by Samh A. So!ovay, John H. Mueller. George E. G.
Catlin.
1. Emile Durkheim 5
first surprise has been overcome, however, it is not difficult to find rea-
sons explaining this normality and at the same time confirming it.
In the first place crime is normal because a society exempt from it is
utterly impossible. Crime, we have shown elsewhere, consists of an act
that offends certain very strong collective sentiments. In a society in
which criminal acts are no longer committed, the sentiments they of-
fend would have to be found without exception in all individual COTI-
sciollSneSS€s, and they must be found to exist with the same degree as
sentiments contrary to them. Assuming that this condition could actu-
ally be realized, crime would not thereby disappear; it would only
change its form, for the very cause which would thus dry up the sources
of criruinality would immediately open up new ones.
Indeed, for the collective sentiments which are protected by the
penal law of a people at a specified moment of its history to take pos-
session of the public conscience or for them to acquire a stronger hold
where they have an insufficient grip, they must acquire an intensity
greater than that which they had hitherto had. The community as a
whole must experience them more vividly, for it can acquire from no
other source the greater force necessary to control these individuals who
formerly were the most refractory. For murderers to disappear, the hor-
ror of bloodshed must become greater in those social strata from which
murderers are recruited; but, first it must become greater throughout
the entire society. Moreover, the very absence of crime would directly
contribute to produce this horror; because any sentiment seems much
more respectable when it is always and uniformly respected.
One easily overlooks the consideration that these strong states of
the common consciousness cannot be thus reinforced without reinforc-
ing at the same time the more feeble states, whose violation previously
gave birth to mere infraction of convention-since the weaker ones are
only the prolongation, the attenuated form, of the stronger. TIlUS robbery
and simple bad taste injure the same single altruistic sentiment, the re-
spect for that which is another's. However, this same sentiment is less
grievously offended by bad taste than by robbery; and since, in addition,
the average consciousness has not sufficient intensity to react keenly to
the bad taste, it is treated with greater tolerance. That is why the person
guilty of bad taste is merely blamed, whereas the thief is punished. But,
if this sentiment grows stronger, to the point of silencing in all con-
sciousnesses the inclination which disposes man to steal, he will be-
come more sensitive to the offenses which, until then, touched him but
lightly. He will react against them, then, with more energy; they will be
the object of greater opprobrium, which vvill transform certain of them
from the simple moral faults that they were and give them the quality of
crimes. For examDle. imorooer contracts. or contracts imorooerlv
u rWILllUlldLL::>Ul
executed, which only incur public blame or civil damages, will become
oifenses in law.
Imagine a society of saints, a perfect cloister of exemplary individ-
uals. Crimes, properly so called, will there be unlmown; but faults which
appear venial to the layman will create there the same scandal that the
ordinary offense does in ordinary consciousnesses. If, then, this society
has the power to judge and punish, it will define these acts as criminal
and will treat them as such. For the same reason, the perfect and up-
right man judges his smallest failings vvith a severity that the majority re-
serve for acts more truly in the nature of an offense. Formerly, acts of
violence against persons were more frequent than they are today, be-
cause respect for individual dignity was less strong. As this has in-
creased, these crimes have become more rare; and also, many acts
violating this sentiment have been introduced into the penal law which
were not included there in primitive times. 2
In order to exhaust all the hypotheses logically possible, it will per-
haps be asked why this unanimity does not extend to all collective sen-
timents without exception. Why should not even the most feeble
sentiment gather enough energy to prevent all dissent? The moral con-
sciousness of the society would be present in its entirety in all the indi-
viduals, with a vitality sufficient to prevent all acts offending it-the
purely conventional faults as well as the crimes. But a uniformity so
universal and absolute is utterly impossible; for the immediate physical
milieu in which each one of us is placed, the hereditary antecedents,
and the social influences vary from one individual to the next, and con-
sequently diversify consciousnesses. It is impossible for all to be alike, if
only because each one has his own organism and that these organisms
occupy different areas in space. That is why, even among the lower peo-
ples, where individual originality is very little developed, it nevertheless
does exist.
Thus, since there cannot be a society in which the individuals do
not differ more or less from the collective type, it is also inevitable that,
among these divergences, there are some vvith a criminal character. What
confers this character upon them is not the intrinsic quality of a given act
but that definition which the collective conscience lends them. If the
collective conscience is stronger, if it has enough authority practically to
suppress these divergences, it will also be more sensitive, more exacting;
and, reacting against the slightest deviations with the energy it other-
wise displays only against more considerable infractions, it will attribute
to them the same gravity as formerly to crimes. In other words, it will
designate them as criminal.
Crime is, then, necessary; it is bound up with fundamental condi-
tions of all social life, and by that very fact it is useful, because these
conditions of which it is a part are themselves indispensable to the nor-
mal evolution of morality and law.
Indeed, it is no longer possible today to dispute the fact that law
and morality vary from one social type to the next, nor that they change
within the same type if the conditions of life are modified. But, in order
that these transformations may be possible, the collective sentiments at
the basis of morality must not be hostile to change, and consequently
must have but moderate energy. If they were too strong, they would no
longer be plastic. Every pattern is an obstacle to new patterns, to the
extent that the firstpattem is inflexible. TIle better a structure is articu-
lated, the more it offers a healthy resistance to all modification; and this
is equally true of functional, as of anatomical, organization. If there were
no crimes, this condition could not have been fulfilled; for such a hy-
pothesis presupposes that collective sentiments have arrived at a de-
gree of intenSity unexampled in history. Nothing is good indefinitely
and to an unlimited extent. The authority which the moral conscience
enjoys must not be excessive; otherwise no one would dare criticize it,
and it would too easily congeal into an immutable form. To make
progress, individual originality must be able to express itself. In order
that the originality of the idealist whose dreams transcend his century
may find expression, it is necessary that the originality of the criminal,
who is below the level of his time, shall also be possible. One does not
occur without the other.
Nor is this all. Aside from this indirect utility, it happens that crime
itself plays a useful role in this evolution. Crime implies not only that the
way remains open to necessary changes but that in certain cases it di-
rectly prepares these changes. Where crime exists, collective sentiments
are sufficiently flexible to take on a new form, and crime sometimes
helps to determine the form they will take. How many times, indeed, it
is only an anticipation of future morality-a step toward what will be!
According to Athenian law, Socrates was a criminal, and his condem-
nation was no more than just. However, his crime, namely, the inde-
pendence of his thought, rendered a service not only to humanity but to
his country. It served to prepare a new morality and faith which the
Athenians needed, since the traditions by which they had lived until
then were no longer in harmony with the current conditions of life. Nor
is the case of Socrates unique; it is reproduced periodically in history. It
would never have been possible to establish the freedom of thought we
now enjoy if the regulations prohibiting it had not been violated before
being solemnly abrogated. At that time, however, the violation was a
crime, since it was an offense against sentiments still very keen in the av-
erage conscience. And yet this crime was useful as a prelude to reforms
which daily became more necessary. liberal philosophy had as its pre-
8 Functionalism
cursors the heretics of all kinds who were justly punished by secular
authorities during the entire course of the 1v1iddle Ages and until the
eve of modern times.
From this point of view the fundamental facts of criminality pre-
sent themselves to us in an entirely new light. Contrary to current ideas,
the criminal no longer seems a totally unsociable being, a sort of para-
sitic element, a strange and unassimilable body, introduced into the
midst of society.' On the contrary, he plays a definite role in social life.
Crime, for its part, must no longer be conceived as an evil that cannot be
too much suppressed. There is no occasion for self-congratulation when
the crime rate drops noticeably below the average level, for we may he
certain that this apparent progress is associated with some social disor-
der. Thus, the number of assault cases never falls so low as in times of
want. 4 With the drop in the crime rate, and as a reaction to it, comes a re-
vision, or the need of a revision in the theory of punishment. If, indeed,
crime is a disease, its punishment is its remedy and cannot be other-
wise conceived; thus, all the discussions it arouses bear on the point of
determining what the punishment must be in order to fulfil this role of
remedy. If crime is not pathological at all, the object of punishment can-
not be to cure it, and its true function must be sought elsewhere.
NOTES
1. From the fact that crime is a phenomenon of normal sociology, it does not
follow that the criminal is an individual normally constituted from the bi-
ological and psycholOgical points of view. The two questions are indepen-
dent of each other. This independence will be better understood when we
have shown, later on, the difference between psychOlogical and sOciologiw
cal facts.
Z. Calumny, insults, slander, fraud, etc.
3. We have ourselves committed the error of speaking thus of the criminal,
because of a failure to apply our rule (Divisiolt dll travail social, pp. 395-96).
4. Although crime is a fact of normal SOciology, it does not follow that we
must not abhor it. Pain itself has nothing desirable about it; the individual
dislikes it as society does crime, and yet it is a function of normal physiol-
ogy. Not only is it necessarily derived from the very constitution of every
living organism, but it plays a useful role in life, for which reason it canw
not be replaced. It would, then, be a singular distortion of our thought to
present it as an apology for crime. We would not even think of protesting
against such an interpretation, did we not know to what strange accusa w
DOns and misunderstandings one exposes oneself when one undertakes to
study moral facts objectively and to speak of them in a different language
from that of the layman.
2. Kingsley Oavis 9
2. The Sociology of Prostitution
KINGSLEY DAVIS
I
~o the theoretical even more than to the applied sociologist, prostitu-
bon sets a profound problem: Why is it that a practice so thoroughly
~isappro:ed, so widely outlawed in Western civilization, can yet flour-
Ish so unIversally? Social theorists, in depicting the power of collective
representations and the mores as determinants of human conduct, have
at times implied that institutions are maintained only by favorable atti-
tudes and s~ntiments: But prostitution is a veritable institution, thriving
even when Its name IS so low in public opinion as to be synonymous
with "the social evil." How, then, can we explain its vitality?
A genuine explanation must transcend the facile generalizations
both of those who believe that prostitution can be immediately abol-
ished, and of those who think vaguely that human nature and the
lessons of history guarantee its immortality. In what follows I have tried
to give a sociological analysis-to describe the main features of the in-
terrelational system binding prostitution to other institutions (particu-
larly those involving sexual relations). Such an analysis, though brief
and tentative, seems to carry us a long way toward explaining not only
the heedless vitality of commercial promiscuity, but also the extreme
disrepute in which it and its personnel are held. 1
n
Human sexuality, as Zuckerman and others have demonstrated,
bears') a s~riking resemblance to the sexual behavior of monkeys and
apes.- This resemblance rests upon MO orders of facts-the first physi-
ological, the second sociological.
Due to her physical nature, the primate female, as distinct from her
lower mammalian sisters, is always sexually responsive. She experi-
ences a regular menstrual cycle but has no period of anoestrus (com-
plete unresponsiveness to sexual stimuli), whereas among most
mammals below the primates the female does have, instead of a men-
strual cycle, a period of anoestrus alternating with a period of oestrus
(heat). This difference has a fundamental effect upon the nature of pri-
mate (including human) society. It introduces sex as a permanent element ill
social life and insures constant association of tiLe two sexes. 3
Moreover, the primates possess a more complex sensori-motor
equipment than the lower marrunals, and have a longer period of in-
Reprinted from Kingsley Dilvis, "The Sociology of Prostitution," ilmerican Sociological
",,,,,;.,.,,, ",..1 ,., f1Q':l7\ "'... 7<111_71:;1:;
10 Functionalism
fancy. These possessions, plus their continuous sexuality, facilitate more
extensive conditioning of the sexual response, with the result that among
the primates sexual behavior is not simply automatic, but is associated
with numerous stimuli that are themselves non-sexual. Whereas among
lower mammals the sexual responses can scarcely be conditioned at all,
the primates may be said to prostitute tlleir sex by introducing sexual stimuli
into intrinsically n011-sexual situations.4. In other words, the sexual re-
sponses of apes and monkeys may have no connection with sexual ap-
petite, being used, instead, as a means of obtaining material advantages.
What leads to this sexual conditioning? Here we turn from physical
to social facts. Reproductive physiology and neural complexity pennit
the conditioning, but sociological forces alone compel it. Zuckerman
points out that monkeys and apes live in a society characterized by a
system of dominance. 5 Every ape or monkey enjoys within his social
group a precarious position determined by the interrelation of his own
dominant characteristics with those of his fellows. The degree of his
dominance determines how his bodily appetites will be satisfied-
amount of food, number of females, and degree of safety he will enjoy.
Primates, both male and female, adapt themselves to such a hostile so-
cial system partly through sexual reactions. Since they are always to
some extent sexually excitable and the stimuli capable of releasing this
sexuality {are] enormously varied, it is easy for their sexual behavior to
become adjusted to the rigors of a social life based upon dominance.
Hence all situations which evoke sexual prostitution are alike in so far as
they allow an animal some advantage that it would othervvise be de-
nied. For example, if a weaker animal secures food and a stronger one
comes to take it away from him, the weaker animal inunediately pre-
sents himself sexually, no matter whether his sex be the same or differ-
ent. If he thus diverts the dominant animal's attention, he can swallow
his food. 6 In such cases it is by means of his sex reactions that a monkey
obtains advantages to which he is not entitled by his position in the
scale of dominance.
These facts are mentioned for the purpose of bringing out the basic
principle in prostitution-namely, the use of sexual stimulation in a sys-
tem of dominance to attain non-sexual ends. They are not mentioned
for the purpose of drawing an analogy between animal and human so-
ciety or speculating as to the origin of human institutions. Zuckerman
himself has adequately warned us against this error'? Yet lithe socio-
sexual activities of sub-human primates are much further removed from
those of the lower mammal than from those of man."8 Among both man
and the apes the same physiological and sociological factors appear to be
present, alleast to the degree that among both can be found tl,e funda-
mental trait of prostitution.
2. Kingsley Davis 11
III
We cannot, however, define human prostitution simply as the use of
sexual responses for an ulterior purpose. This would include a great
portion of all social behavior, especially that of women. It would in-
clude marriage, for example, wherein women trade their sexual favors
for an economic and social status supplied by men.9 It would include the
employment of pretty girls in stores, cafes, charity drives, advertise-
ments. It would include all the feminine arts that women use in pursu-
ing ends that require men as intennediaries, arts that permeate daily
life, and, while not generally involving actual intercourse, contain and
utilize erotic stimulation.
But looking at the subject in this way reveals one thing. The basic el-
ement in what we actually call prostitution-the employment of sex for
non-sexual ends within a competitive-authoritative system-character-
izes not simply prostitution itself but all of our institutions in which sex
is involved, notably courtship and wedlock. Prostitution therefore re-
sembles, from one point of view, behavior found in our most respectable
institutions. It is one end of a long sequence or gradation of essentially
similar phenomena that stretches at the other end to such approved pat-
terns as engagement and marriage. What, then, is the difference between
prostitution and these other institutions involving sex?
TIle difference rests at bottom upon the functional relation between
society and sexual institutions. It is through these institutions that erot-
ic gratification is made dependent on, and subservient to, certain coop-
erative performances inherently necessary to societal continuity. The
sexual institutions are distinguished by the fact that although they all
provide gratification, they do not all tie it to the same social functions. 1o
This explains why they are differently evaluated in the eyes of the mores.
The institutional control of sex follows three correlative lines. First,
it pennits, encourages, or forces various degrees of sexual intimacy with-
in specific customary relations, such as courtship, concubinage, and
marriage. Second, to bolster this positive control, it discourages sexual
intimacy in all other situations, e.g., when the persons are not potential
mates or when they are already mated to other personsY Finally, in
what is really a peculiar category of the negative rules, it absolutely pro-
hibits sexual relations in certain specified situations. This last form of
control refers almost exclusively to incest taboos, which reinforce the
first-named (positive) control by banishing the disruptive forces of sex-
ual competition from the family group.
These lines of control are present no matter what the specific kind of
institutional system. There may be monogamy, polygyny, or concu-
binae:e: wife exchamre or relieiou.c; nm.c;fihlnon: nrpmAritR1 rhR<;tihr or
12 Functionalism
unchastity. 111e important point is not the particular kind of concrete
institution, but the fact that without the positive and negative norms
there could be no institutions at all. Since social functions can be per-
formed only through institutional patterns, the controls are indispens-
able to the continuance of a given social system.
Of the numerous functions which sexual instifutions subserve, the
most vital relate to the physical and social reproduction of the next gen-
eration. If we ask, then, which sexual institutions in a society receive
the greatest support from law and mores, we must point to those which
facilitate the task of procreating and socializing the young. It follows
that sanctioned sexual relations are generally those within these (or aux-
iliary) institutions, while unsanctioned relations are those outside them.
Marriage and its subsidiary patterns constitute the chief cultural
arrangement through which erotic expression is held to reproduction. It is
accordingly the most respectable sexual institution, with the others di-
minishing in respectability as they stand further away from wedlock.
Even the secondary forms of erotic behavior-flirtation, coquetry, pet-
ting, etc.-have their legitimate and their illegitimate settings. Their le-
gitimate aspects may be subsumed tmder courtship, leading to marriage;
but if indulged in for themselves, with no intention of matrimony, they are
devoid of the primary function and tend to be disapproved. If practised by
persons married to others, they are inimical to reproductive relations al-
ready established and are more seriously condemned. If practised by close
relatives within the primary family, they represent a threat to the very
shucture of the reproductive institution itself, and are stringently tabooed.
111ese attitudes are much more rigid with regard to actual intercourse,
not solely because coitus is the essence of the sexual but because it has
come to symbolize the gemeillscllIlft type of relation present in the family.
With this in mind we can add that when coitus is practised for money its
sodal function is indeterminate, secondary, and extrinsic. The buyer clear-
ly has pleasure and not reproduction in mind. The seller may use the
money for any purpose. Hence unless the money is earmarked for some
legitimate end (such as the support of a family, a church, or a state), the
sexual relation between the buyer and seller is illegitimate, ephemeral,
and condemned. It is pure commercial prostitution.
Of course many sexual institutions besides courtship and marriage
receive, in various cultures and to varying degrees, the sanction of soci-
ety. These generally range themselves between marriage and commer-
cial prostitution in the scale of social approval. 111ey include
concubinage, wife exchange, and forms of sanctified prostitution.I 2 Re-
ligious prostitution, for example, not only differs from wedlock, but also
from commercial prostitution; the money that passes is earmarked for
the maintenance of the church, the woman is a religious ministrant, and
2. Kingsley Davis 13
the act of intercourse is sacred. 13 Similar considerations apply to that
type of prostitution in which the girl obtains a dowry for her subse-
quent marriage. VVhenever the money earned by prostihltion is spent for
a sanctified purpose, prostitution is in higher esteem than when it is
purely commercial. If, for instance, prostitution receives more approval
in Japan than in America, it is significant that in the former country
most of the joro enter the life because their family needs money; their
conduct thereby subserves the most sacred of all Japanese sentiments-
filial piety." The regulation of prostitution by governments and church-
es in such a way that at least some of the proceeds go towards their
maintenance is control of sex behavior at a second remove. By ear-
marking a part of the money, the bought intercourse is made to serve a
social function; but this functioll is not intrillsically related to coitus in tlle
same way as the procreative function of the family.
In commercial prostitution both parties use sex for an end not so-
cially functional, the one for pleasure, the other for money. To tie inter-
course to sheer physical pleasure is to divorce it both from reproduction
and from the sentimental primary type of relation which it symbolizes.
To tie it to money, the most impersonal and atomistic type of reward
possible, with no stipulation as to the use of this medium, does the same
thing. Pure prostitution is promiscuous, impersonal. The sexual response
of the prostitute does not hinge upon the personality of the other party,
but upon the reward. The response of the customer likewise does not de-
pend upon the particular identity of the prostitute, but upon the bodily
gratification. On both sides the relationship is merely a means to a pri-
vate end, a contractual rather than a personal association.
These features sharply distinguish prostitution from the procreative
sexual institutions. Within a group organized for bearing and rearing
children bonds tend to arise that are cemented by the condition of rela-
tive permanence and the sentiment of personal feeling, for the task re-
quires long, close, and sympathetic association. Prostitution, in which
the seller takes any buyer at the price, necessarily represents an opposite
kind of erotic association. It is distinguished by the elements of hire,
promiscuity, and emotional indifference-all of which are incompatible
with primary or gemeillsclwft association.
111e sexual appetite, like every other, is tied to socially necessary
functions. The function it most logically and naturally relates to is pro-
creation. The nature of procreation and socialization is such that their
perfonnance requires institutionalized primary-group living. Hence the
family receives the highest estimation of all sexual institutions in society,
tlle others receiving lower esteem as they are remoter from its gemein-
sehaft character and reproductive purpose. Commercial prostitution
stands at the lowest extreme; it shares with other sexual institutions a
14 Functionalism
basic feature, namely the employment of sex for an ulterior end in a
system of differential advantages, but it differs from them in being mer-
cenary, promiscuous, and emotionally indifferent. From both these facts,
however, it derives its remarkable vitality.
IV
Since prostitution is a contractual relation in which services are trad-
ed (usually in terms of an exchange medium) and sex is placed in an
economic context,15 it is strange that modem writers have made so much
of the fact that the "social evil" has economic causes. 16 One might as
well say, with equal perspicacity. that retail merchandising has economic
causes. Prostitution embraces an economic relation, and is naturally con-
nected with the entire system of economic forces. But to jump from this
truism to the conclusion that prostitution can be abolished by eliminat-
ing its economic causes is erroneous. Economic causes seldom act alone,
and hence their removal is seldom a panacea.
The causal ramifications of commercial coitus extend beyond the
economic sphere. At least three separable but related problems must be
recognized: (1) the causes of the existence of prostitution; (2) the causes
of the rate or amOllI1t of prostitution; and (3) the causes of any particular
individual's entral1ce into, or patronage of, prostitution. The existence of
prostitution seems related both to the physiological nahrre of man and to
the inherent character of society, both of which include more than the
sheer economic element. These basic factors, constantly operative, ac-
COWlt for the ubiquity of prostitution, but not for the variations in its
rate. TIus second problem must be dealt with in terms of the specific
institutional configuration existing at the time, in which economic fac- .
tors are highly but not exclusively important. Finally, any particular per-
son's connection with prostitution is a result of his or her own unique
life-history, into which an infinite variety of strands, some economic
and some not economic, are woven. The factors in (1) and (2) are oper-
ative in the individual's life, but are never sufficient in themselves to
explain his or her behavior.
These issues are generally confused by those who believe that by
removing aUeged economic causes one can abolish prostitution. Let us
follow their arguments further, considering first the removal of eco-
nomic causes within the capitalist system, and second the removal of
them in a non-capitalist system.
1. A frequent proposal for abolition under capitalism is that the
salaries of working girls be raised. This proposal, which ignores the de-
mand side, assumes that girls enter prostitution through economic ne-
cessity-a paradoxical assumption, for if it is true it indicates that
2. Kingsley Davis 15
prostitution must have other than economic causes and remedies, while
if it is untrue this particular proposal is fallacious.
Why should a girl enter prostitution only through economic neces-
sity? Is the occupation so arduous? On the contrary, we often speak as if
harlots "would rather prostitute themselves than work."l7 It is even true
that some women enjoy the intercourse they sell. From a purely eco-
nomic point of view prostitution comes perilously near the situation of
getting something for nothing. The woman may suffer no loss at all, yet
receive a generous reward, resembling the artist who, though paid for
his work, loves it so well that he would paint anyway. Purely from the
angle of economic return, the hard question is not why so many women
become prostitutes, but why so few of them do. The harlot's return is not
primarily a reward for abstinence, labor, or rent. It is primarily a reward
for 1055 of social standing. She loses social esteem because our moral
system condemns the commercialization of intercourse. If, then, she re-
fuses to enter profession until forced by sheer want, the basic cause of
her hesitation is not economic but moral. Only when the moral condition
is assumed, do wages or economic want take on any importance. Pros-
titution, therefore, is not purely a matter of economic factors alone.
We have taken for granted that in the face of moral condemnation,
only starvation wages can drive girls into prostitution. Actually this is
only partly true. But even if it were, the proposal to eliminate prostitu-
tion by raising wages would not work. In a competitive system, as soon
as the salaries of working girls are increased, the supply of prostitutes di-
minishes. The resulting scarcity increases the effective demand, in the
form of price, which rises as the supply diminishes. (The demand rests
upon a constant imperative need, not always conveniently satisfiable
by substitutes.) With the rise in price, working girls even with good
salaries will be tempted into the profession. Moreover, it will be possible
for more women to live on the proceeds of prostitution alone-without
performing arduous labor in store or restaurant. The net result will be as
much prostitution as before, and in terms of actual money invested and
changing hands, there may be more. 18 The facts seem to bear out these
theoretical propositions, for apparently prostitution does not increase
greatly with low wages for women nor decrease with high, although
other factors, such as the correlation between men's wages and women's
wages, must be considered in working out the relationship.19
Finally, this proposal does not touch the demand for prostitution. To
touch demand requires more than economic changes; for even less than
the woman who sells herself, is the man who buys guided by econom-
ic motives. His motivation, as we shall see later, springs from bio-social
forces for which the economic are simply instrumental.
 2. In her book, Red Virtlle, Eila Winter has a chapter entitled "End-
ing Prostitution," at the head of which stands a quotation from a Soviet
physician: "Soviet life does not permit of prostitution." Widely accepted
and frequently repeated, this belief is taken for granted as one of the
main values of a communist as against a capitalist system.
There can be little doubt, I think, that in Soviet cities prostitution
has diminished in the last few years, but tllere can be grave doubt that it
has been ended or that the diminution has resulted solely from the abo-
lition of private property. Not only did prostitution exist before capital-
ism arose, but capitalist countries themselves have frequently tried to
stop private ownership of prostitutes for purposes of profit. They have
consistently legislated against third parties-pimps, real estate owners,
bookers-only to find that none of these measures succeed. 2o In short,
capitalism, like communism, has tried in the case of prostitution to
negate the basic capitalistic principle.
Doubtless it is harder to eliminate the business aspect of prostitution
(organized syndicates operated by third parties) in a capitalist system
where business prevails anyway, than it is in a communist system where
all business is frowned upon. In the later, profit-making organizations
possess high visibility, are easily hunted down. But this does not mean
that unorganized prostitution, in which seller, manager, and worker are
all rolled into the same person, cannot thrive.
Payment for prostitution need not be in terms of money. It may be in
terms of privilege, power, food, clothing, almost any form of exchange-
able value. These exchangeable commodities (and some medium of ex-
change) must exist in any complex society, no matter what the system of
political control, because the specialized producers must mutually ex-
change their surpluses. At the same time there is, in any society, a system
of privilege, authority, and dominance. Some have rights, belongings,
and talents that others lack. Soviet Russia may have abolished the cap-
italistic alignment of classes, but it has not abolished social class; the
class principle is inherent in the nature of social organization. 21 In the
Soviet system, as in any other social structure, there lies the eternal pos-
sibility and the eternal incentive to trade sexual favor for non-sexual
advantage. This becomes clearer after analyzing the demand side of
prostitution.
v There is no reason to believe that a change in the economic system
When outlawed, prostitution falls into one peculiar category of
crime-a type exceedingly hard to deal with-in which one of the will-
ful parties is the ordinary law-abiding citizen. This kind of crime, of
which bootlegging is the archetype, is supported by the money and be-
havior of a sizeable portion of the citizenry, because in it the citizen re-
ceives a service. Though the service is illegitimate, the citizen cannot be
held guilty, for it is both impossible and inadvisable to punish half the
populace for a crime. Each citizen participates in vital institutional rela-
tionships-family. business, church, and state. To disrupt all of these by
throwing him in jail for a mere vice would be, on a large scale, to disrupt
society.22 But the eagerness of otherwise decent citizens to receive the il-
licit service attests powerful forces behind the demand element.
On the one hand, the demand is the result of a simple biological ap-
petite. When all other sources of gratification fail, due to defects of per-
son or circumstance, prostitution can be relied upon to furnish relief.
None of the exacting requirements of sex attraction and courtship are
necessary. All that is needed is the cash, and this can be obtained in a
thousand ways. Prostitution is the most malleable, the most uninvolved
form of physical release.
But in addition to the sheer desire for sexual satisfaction, there is
the desire for satisfaction in a particular (often unsanctioned)way.
The common and ignorant assumption that prostitution exists to satisfy
the gross sensuality of the young unmarried man, and that if he is
taught to bridle gross sexual impulse or induced to marry early the
prostitute must be idle, is altogether incorrect.. .. The prostitute is some-
thing more than a channel to drain off superfluous sexual energy, and
her attraction by no means ceases when men are married, for a large
number of men who visit prostitutes, if not the majority, are married.
And alike whether they are married or unmarried the motive is not
one of uncomplicated lustP
The craving for variety, for perverse gratification, for mysterious and
provocative surroundings, for intercourse free from entangling cares
and civilized pretense, all play their part.
Prostitution, again by its very nature, is aptly suited to satisfy this
second side of demand. The family, an institution of status rather than
contract, limits the variety, amount, and nature of a person's satisfac-
tions. But since with the prostitute the person is paying for the privi-
lege, he is in a position to demand almost anything he wants. The sole
limitation on his satisfactions is not morality or convention, but his abil-
ity to pay the price. nus is an advantage which commercial recreation
generally has over kinds handled by other institutional channels.
will eliminate either side of demand. In any system the effective de-
mand as expressed by price will vary with current economic and moral
forces, but the underlying desire both for sheer gratification and for
gratification in particular ways will remain impregnable.
18 Functionalism
VI
We can imagine a social system in which the motive for prostitu-
tion would be completely absent, but we cannot imagine that the system
could ever come to pass. It would be a regime of absolute sexual free-
dom, wherein intercourse were practised solely for the pleasure of it,
by both parties. This would entail at least two conditions: First, there
could be no institutional control of sexual expression. Marriage, with
its concomitants of engagement, jealousy, divorce, and legitimacy, could
not exist. Such an institution builds upon and limits the sexual urge,
making sex expression contingent upon non-sexual factors, and thereby
paving the way for intercourse against one's physical inclination. Second,
all sexual desire would have to be mutually complementary. One person
could not be erotically attracted to a non-responsive person, because
such a situation would inevitably involve frustration and give a motive
for using force, fraud, authority, or money to induce the unwilling per-
son to co-operate.
Neither of these conditions can in the nature of things come to pass.
As we have seen, every society attempts to control, and for its own sur-
vival must control, the sexual impulse in the interest of social order, pro-
creation, and socialization. Moreover, all men are not born handsome
nor all women beautiful. Instead there is a perfect gradation from ex-
tremely attractive to extremely unattractive, with an unfavorable bal-
ance of the old and ugly. This being the case, the persons at the wrong
end of the scale must, and inevitably will, use extraneous means to ob-
tain gratification.14
While neither the scale of attractiveness nor the institutionalization
of sex are likely to disappear, it is possible that the particular fOlll1 of in-
stitutionalization may change. The change may be in the direction of
greater sex freedom. Such a change must inevitably affect prostitution,
because the greater the proportion of free, mutually pleasurable inter-
course, the lesser is the demand for prostitution. This, it seems, is the
true explanation of the diminution of prostitution in Soviet Russia.Z5
The conclusion that free intercourse for pleasure and friendship
rather than for profit is the greatest enemy of prostitution emerges log-
ically from our statement that a basic trait of prostitution is the use of
sex for an ulterior purpose. Should one wish to abolish commercial
coitus, one would have to eliminate this trait. This proposition, howev-
er, is unacceptable to moralists, because, as we saw, the underlying trait
of prostitution is also a fundamental feature of reputable sexual insti-
tutions, and intercourse for sheer pleasure is as inimical to our sacred in-
stitutions as it is to the profane one of mercenary love. Though Lecky's
suggestion that harlotry sustaffis the family is perhaps indefensible, it
2. Kingsley Davis 19
seems true that prostitution is not so great a danger to the family as
complete liberty. .
Where the family is strong, there tends to be a well-defined sy~tem
of prostitution and the social regime is one of status. Wom~n are eIther
part of the family system, or they are definitely not a part of It. In the lat-
ter case they are prostitutes, members of a caste set apart. There are few
intermediate groups, and there is littl~ mo~ility. TI:is en~bles the "two
opposite types of institutions to functIOn ~ilde by SIde WIthout confu-
sion; they are each staffed by a different personnel, humanly as well as
functionally distinct. But where familial controls are weak, the system of
prostitution tends to be poorly defined. Not only is it more nearly per-
missible to satisfy one's desire outside the family, but also it is easi~r ~o
find a respectable member of society :vmm g to ~ct ~s partner. ThIS IS
why a decline of the family and a decline of prostitution are both asso-
ciated with a rise of sex freedom. Women, released from close family
supervision, are freer to seek gratification outside it. !he m~re such
women, the easier it is for men to find in intimate relations WIth them
the satisfactions formerly supplied by harlots. This is why the unre-
stricted indulgence in sex for the fun of it by ~0tI: sexes is the greatest
enemy, not only of the family, but also of prostitution. .
Not only in Soviet Russia has pleasurable sex freedom Ulvaded and
reduced prostitution, but also in America and England, where "ama-
teur competition" is reputedly ruining the business of str~etwalkers ~d
call girls.26 This indicates that independently of commurusm or ~ap~tal­
ism, due to factors more profound than mere economic orgaruz~tion,
sex freedom can arise and, having arisen, can contribute to the decline of
prostitution. Its rise seems correlated with the grov:H: of ~dividua~a­
tion in an increasingly complex society where speCIalization, urb~m,
and anonymity prevail-factors which are also inimical to reproductive
institutions of the familial type.
But even if present trends continue, there is no likelihood that sex
freedom will ever displace prostitution. Not only will there alwa~s be a
set of reproductive institutions which place a check upon sexual liberty,
a system of social dominance which gives a motive for selling sex~al
favors and a scale of attractiveness which creates the need for buymg
these favors, but prostitution is, in the last analysis, economical. En-
abling a small number of women to take care of the needs of a large
number of men it is the most convenient sexual outlet for an army, and
for the legions ~f strangers, perverts, and phy.sically repul~ive .in ~ur
midst. It performs a function, apparently, which no other mstitutlOn
fully performs.
NOTES
1. Disapproval of purely commercial (Le., non-religious, non-familial) pros-
titution is extraordinarily widespread. Though tile distinction is seldom
made, disapproval of the prostitute is one thing and disapproval of the
institution another. In Mongolian China, for example, prostitution was
viewed with no serious disfavor, but the prostitute was treated with con-
tempt. H. Ellis, Stlldies ill the Psychology of Sex, vol. 6, p. 236.
2. S. Zuckerman, The Social Life of MOllkClJs alld Apes, New York: Harcourt,
Brace, 1932; G. V. Hamilton, "A Study of Sexual Tendencies in Monkeys
and Baboons," TOl/mal of Animal Behavior, 4, 1914, 295--318; H. C. Bing-
ham, "Sex Development in Apes," Comparative PsycJlOlogt) MOllographs, 5,
1928,1-16l.
3. Zuckerman, op. cit., especially chaps. ill, iv, vi, vill, ix.
4. Ibid., p. 152. Zuckerman repeatedly uses the term prostitution to describe
this behavior, as do others,
5. Op. Cif., pp. 312-314. The generalized picture given in tilese few para-
graphs of course does not apply in detail to all genera of infra-human
primates, nor does it do full justice to Ztickerman's qualifications.
6. Ibid., pp. 240-242.
7. Ibid., chap. H. It is worth noting that while Westermarck and his followers
have used the anecdotal literature on anthropoid life to bolster their the-
ory of universal monogamy in human society, it is just as logical to argue
from the scientific literature on the same subject that prostitution is
equally rooted in primate nature and hence equally universal in human
life.
8. Zuckerman, op. cif., p. 313.
9. She also contributes other services, though these are sometimes difficult
to see in our middle-class sodety.
10. Any institution appeals to several motives and performs several functions.
Strictly speaking, therefore, there are no purely sexual institutions. Wed-
lock is not simply sexual, not simply procreative, not simply economic. It
is all three. This linking of the sexual impulse to other things is not hap-
hazard, but shows a high degree of structural and functional articulation,
demonstrable on hvo different but interdependent levels: the life organi-
zation of persons, and the institutional organization of society, Sex, like
other elements in human nature, is drawn into the integration, and is
thus controlled.
11. For the emotional attitudes maintaining these norms see K Davis, "Jeal-
ousy and Sexual Property," Social Forces, 14, March 1936,395-405.
12. Concubinage evidently stands part way between prostitution and mar-
riage. It resembles marriage in that it is relatively permanent, partly re-
productive, and implies a gemeillscllllft bond; but it resembles prostitution
in that the woman more definitely and exclusively exists for the sexual
pleasure of the master, and her social position is inferior to that of the
wife. E. Westermarck, Histon) of Human Marriage, 5til ed., New York:
Allerton Book Co., 1922; D. Kulp, COtlJJtn) Life in South China, Columbia
University Press, 1925, chap. vi; Pearl Buck's novel, TIle Good Earth. Wife
exchange differs from marriage in that its 50da1 function appears to be
not propagation, but the cementing of solidarity within a group. W. Bo-
goras, The Cllllkchec, American MuseuIII a/Natural Histonj Memoirs, 7,
602-607.
13. G. May, "Prostitution," Encyclopedia of Social Scic/lce; Westennarck, op. cit.,
val. 1, pp. 219 et scq.
14. A. M. Bacon, Japanese Girls alld Womcll, Boston: Houghton 1vlifflin Co.,
1902, pp. 175-178; D. C. McMurtrie, "Prostitution in Japan/' New York
Medical JOllnwl, February 8, 1913.
15. Yet no economist has written a treatise on it in the same way that econo-
mists write treatises on banking and the coal industry. See L. Robbins, AI!
Essay 011 the Nature and Significance of Economic Scie/lce (rev. ed., 1935), 28.
16. EIlCl)cIopaedia SexlJalis, article on "Prostitution," p. 667.
17. W. L. George's novel, Bed of Roses, vividly contrasts the hard life of the
working girl with the easy life of the prostitute.
18. Another difficulty is that the wages of prostitution are already far above
the wages of ordinary women's work. "No practicable rise in the rate of
wages paid to women in ordinary industries can possibly compete with
the wages which fair~y attractive women of quite ordinary ability can
earn by prostitution" (Ellis, op. cit., p. 263). The discrepancy between the
wages of ordinary work and the wages of prostitution results from the
fact, as indicated above, that the latter is morally tabooed. This increases
the wage differential until there is even) economic incentive for entering.
19. The wages of one class cannot be arbitrarily raised without affecting
those of all other earners. Under competition women's wages could
scarcely be raised Witilout also raising men's. Men would then have
more to spend on prostitution. A Depres, La prostitlltioll ell France, (1883),
concluded that as wealth and prosperity increased, so did prostitution.
20. See M. L. Ernst's chapter in Tile Sex Life of the Ullllwrried Adult, ed. by Ira
S. Wile, Vanguard Press, 1934, especially pp. 230-231. Also, Flexner, op.
cit., chap iv.
21. By social class is meant the differential sharing of the values (education-
al, artistic, recreational, political as well as economic) of the community
by dillerent segments of the population. The Party in Russia forms one
class, enjoying privileges and responsibilities not shared by the rest of
the people. The same is true of the skilled as agairtst the unskilled work-
ers.
22. "The professional prostitute, being a social outcast, may be periodically
punished without disturbing tile usual course of society; no one misses.
her while she is serving out her turn-no one, at least, about whom soo-
ety has any concern. The man, however, is something more than partner
in an immoral act: he discharges important social and business rela-
tions ... He cannot be imprisoned without ~eranging society" Flexner, op.
cil., p. 108.
23. Ellis, op. cit., pp. 295-296. The autilor describes in detail the various mo-
tives involved.
 22 Functionalism
24.The question, why are women more frequently prostitutes than men
(and why is male prostitution usually homosexual), leads to interesting
conclusions. Men have authority and economic means in greater amount
than women. They are, therefore, in a more favorable position to offer in-
ducements, and this inequality characterizes not only prostitution but all
relations in which sex is used for ulterior enrls. But why the inequality?
Women are perhaps physically weaker, and they are naturally connected
more closely with procreation and socialization. The latter constitute
their main functions. Hence women must depend upon sex for their so-
cial position much more than men do. A man who relies on sex for his
status has at best an inferior station, while in many ways the very best
that a woman can do is through use of her sexual charms.
Out of the female population there are relatively few who are young
and pretty. These are in great demand by the entire male population, who
use every inducement, sanctioned and otherwise. Most of the women are
taken by the inducement of a definite social status-marriage. They are
thereby withdrawn from competition. But the remainder are in a very fa-
vorable position so far as profiting by their attractiveness is concerned.
They can, U1erefore, make much more if they enter an occupation in
which their sexual appeal is the intrinsic quality desired. One such occu-
pation is prostitution.
25. Communist theory has generally condemned the private family. At the
same time Russia emancipated women, making them less dependent
upon their sexual qualities, more dependent upon their Citizenship and
productiveness. Both the incentive for them to settle in a permanent mar-
ital relation and the incentive to indulge in prOSlitution were therefore
lessened.
26. G. M. Hall, op. cit., p. 168. "Prostitution." Ellcyclopaedin SexIIalis, p. 665. J.
K. Folsom, The Family, New York: Wiley, 1934, chap. xiii.
3 On the Sociology of Deviance
KAI T. ERIKSON
Human actors are sorted into various kinds of collectivity, ranging from
relatively small units such as the nuclear family to relatively large ones
such as a nation or culture. One of the most stubborn difficulties in the
study of deviation is that the problem is defined differently at each one
of these levels: behavior that is considered unseemly within the context
of a single family may be entirely acceptable to the community in gen-
eral, while behavior that attracts severe censure from the members of the
community may go altogether unnoticed elsewhere in the culture. Peo-
ple in sociely, then, must learn to deal separately with deviance at each
Reprinted by permission from Kai T. Erikson, Wayward PuritlUls. Copyright © 1966 by
Allyn & Bacon.
3. Kai T. Erikson 23
one of these levels and to distinguish among them in [their] own daily
activity. A man may disinherit his son for conduct that violates old fam-
ily traditions or ostracize a neighbor for conduct that violates some local
custom, but he is not expected to employ either of these standards when
he serves as a juror in a court of law. In each of the three situations he is
required to use a different set of criteria to decide whether or not the
behavior in question exceeds tolerable limits.
In the next few pages we shall be talking about deviant behavior in
social units called "communities," but the use of this term does not
mean that the argument applies only at that level of organization. In
theory, at least, the argument being made here should fit all kinds of
human collectivity-families as well as whole cultures, small groups as
well as nations-and the tenn "community" is only being used in this
context because it seems particularly convenient,l
111e people of a community spend most of their lives in close contact
with one another, sharing a common sphere of experience which makes
them feel that they belong to a special "kind" and live in a special
"place," In the formal language of sociology, this means that communi-
ties are boundary maintaining: each has a specific territory in the world
as a whole, not only in the sense that it occupies a defined region of ge-
ographical space but also in the sense that it takes over a particular niche
in what might be called cultural space and develops its own "ethos" or
"way" within that compass. Both of these dimensions of group space,
the geographical and the cultural, set the community apart as a special
place and provide an important point of reference for i.ts ~e~bers. .
When one describes any system as boundary mamtammg, one IS
saying that it controls the fluctuation of its constiluent parts so that the
whole retains a limited range of activity, a given pattern of constancy
and stability, within the larger environment. A human communil}' can
be said to maintain boundaries, then, in the sense that its members tend
to confine themselves to a particular radius of activity and to regard
any conduct which drifts outside that radius as somehow inappropriate
or immoral. Thus the group retains a kind of cultural integrity, a vol-
untary restriction on its own potential for expansion, beyond that which
is strictly required for accommodation to the envirorunent. Human be-
havior can vary over an enormous range, but each community draws a
symbolic set of parentheses around a certain segment of that range and
limits its own activities within that narrower zone. These parentheses, so
to spealc, are the community's boundaries.
Now people who live together in communities cannot relate to one
another in any coherent way or even acquire a sense of their own stahlre
as group members unless they learn something about the boundaries
of the territory they occupy in social space, if only because they need to
24 Functionalism
sense what lies beyond the margins of the group before they can appre-
ciate the special quality of the experience which takes place within it. Yet
how do people learn about the boundaries of their community? And
how do they convey this information to the generations which replace
them?
To begin with, the only material found in a society for marking
boundaries is the behavior of its members-or rather, the networks of
interaction which link these members together in regular social rela-
tions. And the interactions which do the most effective job of locating
and publicizing the group's outer edges would seem to be those which
take place between deviant persons on the one side and official agents
of the community on the other. The deviant is a person whose activities
have moved outside the margins of the groups, and when the com-
munity calls him to account for that vagrancy it is making a statement
about the nature and placement of its boundaries. It is declaring how
much variability and diversity can be tolerated within the group before
it begins to lose its distinctive shape, its unique identity. Now there
may be other moments in the life of the group which perform a similar
service: wars, for instance, can publicize a group's boundaries by
drawing attention to the line separating the group from an adversary,
and certain kinds of religious ritual, dance ceremony, and other tradi-
tional pageantry can dramatize the difference between "we" and
"they" by portraying a symbolic encounter between the two. But on
the whole, members of a community inform one another about the
placement of their boundaries by participating in the confrontations
which occur when persons who venture out to the edges of the group
are met by policing agents whose special business it is to guard the
cultural integrity of the community. vVhether these confrontations take
the form of criminal trials, excommunication hearings, courts-martial,
or even psychiatric case conferences, they act as boundary-maintaining
devices in the sense that they demonstrate to whatever audience is
concerned where the line is drawn behveen behavior that belongs in
the special universe of the group and behavior that does not. In gen-
eral, this kind of information is not easily relayed by the straightfor-
ward use of language. Most readers of this paragraph, for instance,
have a fairly clear idea of the line separating theft from more legiti-
mate forms of commerce, but few of them have ever seen a published
statute describing these differences. More likely than not, our infor-
mation on the subject has been drawn from publicized instances in
which the relevant laws were applied-and for that matter, the law it-
self is largely a collection of past cases and decisions, a synthesis of
the various confrontations which have occurred in the life of the legal
order.
3. Kai T. Erikson 25
It may be important to note in this connection that confrontations
between deviant offenders and the agents of control have always at-
tracted a good deal of public attention. In our own past, U1e trial and
punishment of offenders were staged in the market place and afforded
the crowd a chance to participate in a direct, active way. Today, of course,
we no longer parade deviants in the town square or expose them to the
carnival atmosphere of a Tybum, but it is interesting that the "reform"
which brought about this change in penal practice coincided almost ex-
actly with the development of newspapers as a medium of mass infor-
mation. Perhaps this is no more than an accident of history, but it is
nonetheless true that newspapers (and now radio and television) offer
much the same kind of entertainment as public hangings or a Sunday
visit to the local gaol. A considerable portion of what we call "news" is
devoted to reports about deviant behavior and its consequences, and it
is no simple matter to explain why these items should be considered
newsworthy or why they should command the extraordinary attention
they do. Perhaps they appeal to a number of psychological perversities
among the mass audience, as commentators have suggested, but at the
same time they constitute one of our main sources of information about
the normative outlines of society. In a figurative sense, at least, morality
and inunorality meet at the public scaffold, and it is during this meeting
that the line betvveen them is drawn.
Boundaries are never a fixed property of any community. They are
always shifting as the people of the group find new ways to define the
outer limits of their universe, new ways to position themselves on the
larger cultural map. Sometimes changes occur within the structure of
the group which require its members to make a new survey of their ter-
ritory-a change of leadership, a shift of mood. Sometimes changes
occur in the surrounding environment, altering the background against
which the people of the group have measured their own uniqueness.
And always, new generations are moving in to take their turn guarding
old institutions and need to be informed about the contours of the world
they are inheriting. Thus single encounters betvveen the deviant and his
community are only fragments of an ongoing social process. Like an ar-
ticle of common law, boundaries remain a meaningful point of refer-
ence only so long as they are repeatedly tested by persons on the fringes
of the group and repeatedly defended by persons chosen to represent
the group's inner morality. Each time the community moves to censure
some act of deviation, then, and convenes a formal ceremony to deal
with the responsible offender, it sharpens the authority of the violated
norm and restates where the boundaries of the group are located.
For these reasons, deviant behavior is not a simple kind of leakage
~.~L:_L ___ . __ ~.~L __ J.L _ _ _ _ L! _ _ _ • _I: _~"":_J.-.!_! _____ ~ •• __ IF:_~ __ ...:1,,_
26 Functionalism
but may be, in controlled quantities, an important condition for pre-
serving the stability of social life. Deviant forms of beha vior, by marking
the outer edges of group life, give the inner structure its special charac-
ter and thus supply the framework within which the people of the group
develop an orderly sense of their ovm cultural identity. Perhaps this is
what Aldous Huxley had in mind when he wrote:
r:row tidiness is undeniably good-but a good of which it is easily pas-
slbl~ to I~ave to~ mu,ch an? at ~O? high a price .... The good life can only
be lived m a soclety m which tidmess is preached and practised, but not
too fanatically, and where efficiency is always haloed, as it were, by a
tolcmted margin of mess. 2
This raises a delicate theoretical issue. If we grant that human groups
often derive benefit from deviant behavior, can we then assume that they
are organized in such a way as to promote this resource? Can we as-
sume, in other words, that forces operate in the social structure to re-
cruit offenders and to commit them to long periods of service in the
deviant ranks? This is not a question which can be answered with our
present store of empirical data, but one observation can be made which
gives the question an interesting perspective-namely. that deviant forms
of conduct often seem to derive nourishment from the very agencies de-
vised to inhibit them. Indeed, the agencies built by society for preventing
deviance are often so poorly equipped for the task that we might well ask
why this is regarded as their "real" function in the first place.
It is by now a thoroughly familiar argument that many of the insti-
tutions designed to discourage deviant behavior actually operate in such
a way as to perpetuate it. For one thing, prisons, hospitals, and other
similar agencies provide aid and shelter to large numbers of deviant
persons, sometimes giving them a certain advantage in the competition
for social resources. But beyond this, such institutions gather marginal
people into tightly segregated groups, give them an opportunity to teach
one another the skills and attitudes of a deviant career, and even pro-
voke them into using these skills by reinforcing their sense of alienation
from the rest of sOciety.3 Nor is this observation a modem one:
The misery suffered in gaols is not half their evil; they are filled with
e~ery sort of corruption that poverty and wickedness can generate;
wlth a~ the shameles.s and J;Jrofligate enonnities that can be produced
br th~ tmpuden.ce of 19nOnuny, the range of want, and the malignity of
dlSpau. In a prIson the d1cck of the public eye is removed; and the
power of the law is spent. There are few fears, there are no blushes.
The lewd inflame the more modest; the audacious harden the ti:rnid.
E:~ryone fortifi:s himself as he can against his own remaining sensi-
bIlIty; endeavonng to practice on others the arts that are practised on
himself; and to gain the applause of his worst associates by imitating
rh",;,.. """''' ........ ''' .. .0 ,I
3. Kai T. Erikson 27
These lines, written almost two centuries ago, are a harsh indict-
ment of prisons, but many of the conditions they describe continue to be
reported in even the most modem studies of prison life. Looking at the
matter from a long-range historical perspective, it is fair to conclude
that prisons have done a conspicuously poor job of reforming the con-
victs placed in their custody; but the very consistency of this failure may
have a peculiar logic of its own. Perhaps we find it difficult to change the
worst of our penal practices because we expect the prison to harden the
inmate's commitment to deviant forms of beha vior and draw him more
deeply into the deviant ranks. On the whole, we are a people who do not
really expect deviants to change very much as they are processed
through the control agencies we provide for them, and we are often re-
luctant to devote much of the community's resources to the job of reha-
bilitation. In this sense, the prison which graduates long rows of
accomplished criminals (or, for that matter, the state asylum which stores
its most severe cases away in some back ward) may do serious violence
to the aims of its founders, but it does very little violence to the expec-
tations of the population it serves.
These expectations, moveover, are found in every corner of society
and constitute an important part of the climate in which we deal with
deviant forms of behavior.
To begin -with, the community's decision to bring deviant sanctions
against one of its members is not a simple act of censure. It is an intricate
rite of transition, at once moving the individual out of his ordinary place
in society and transferring him into a special deviant position.s The cer-
emonies which mark this change of status, generally, have a number of
related phases. They supply a formal stage on which the deviant and his
community can confront one another (as in the criminal trial); they mal<e
an announcement about the nature of his deviancy (a verdict or diag-
nosis, for example); and they place him in a particular role which is
thought to neutralize the harmful effects of his misconduct (like the role
of prisoner or patient). These commitment ceremonies tend to be occa-
sions of wide public interest and ordinarily take place in a highly dra-
matic setting. 6 Perhaps the most obvious example of a commitment
ceremony is the criminal triat with its elaborate formality and exagger-
ated ritual, but more modest equivalents can be found wherever proce-
dures are set up to judge whether or not someone is legitimately deviant.
Now an important feature of these ceremonies in our own culture is
that they are almost irreversible. Most provisional roles conferred by
society-those of the student or conscripted soldier, for example-in-
clude some kind of terminal ceremony to mark the individual's move-
ment back out of the role once its temporary advantages have been
pyh::l l l c;;tpil Rllt thp rnlp~ ::IlIottpcl the deviant seldom make allowance
28 Functionalism
for this type of passage. He is ushered into the deviant position by a
decisive and often dramatic ceremony, yet is retired from it with scarce-
ly a word of public notice. And as a result, the deviant often returns
home with no proper license to resume a normal life in the community.
Nothing has happened to cancel out the stigmas imposed upon him by
earlier commitment ceremonies; nothing has happened to revoke the
verdict or diagnosis pronounced upon him at that time. It should not be
swprising, then, that the people of the community are apt to greet the re-
turning deviant with a considerable degree of apprehension and dis-
trust, for in a very real sense they are not at all sure who he is.
A circularity is thus set into motion which has all the earmarks of a
"self-fulfilling prophesy," to use Merton's fine phrase. On the one hand,
it seems quite obvious that the community's apprehensions help reduce
whatever chances the deviant might othenvise have had for a successful
return home. Yet at the same time, everyday experience seems to show
that these suspicions are wholly reasonable, for it is a well-known and
highly publicized fact that many if not most exconvicts return to crime
after leaving prison and that large numbers of mental patients require
further treatment after an initial hospitalization. The common feeling
that deviant persons never really change, then, may derive from a faulty
premise; but the feeling is expressed so frequently and with such con-
viction that it eventually creates the facts which later "prove" it to be cor-
rect. If the returning deviant encounters this circularity often enough, it
is quite understandable that he, too, may begin to wonder whether he
has fully graduated from the deviant role, and he may respond to the
uncertainty by resuming some kind of deviant activity. In many respects,
this may be the only way for the individual and his community to agree
what kind of person he is.
Moreover this prophesy is found in the official policies of even the
most responsible agencies of control. Police departments could not op-
erate with any real effectiveness if they did not regard ex-convicts as a
ready pool of suspects to be tapped in the event of trouble, and psy-
chiatric clinics could not do a successful job in the community if they
were not always alert to the possibility of former patients suffering re-
lapses. Thus the prophesy gains currency at many levels within the so-
cial order, not only in the poorly informed attitudes of the community
at large, but in the best informed theories of most control agencies as
well.
In one form or another this problem has been recognized in the West
for many hundreds of years, and this simple fact has a curious implica-
tion. For if our culture has supported a steady flow of deviation through-
out long periods of historical change, the rules which apply to any kind
3. Kai T. Erikson 29
of evolutionary thinking would suggest that strong forces must be at
work to keep the flow intact-and this because it contributes in some
important way to the survival of the culture as a whole. This does not
furnish us with sufficient warrant to declare that deviance is "function-
al" (in any of the many senses of that term), but it should certainly make
us wary of the assumption so often made in sociological circles that any
well-structured society is somehow designed to prevent deviant be-
havior from occurring?
It might be then argued that we need new metaphors to carry our
thinking about deviance onto a different plane. On the whole, American
sociologists have devoted most of their attention to those forces in so-
ciety which seem to assert a centralizing influence on human behav-
ior, gathering people together into tight clusters called" groups" and
bringing them under the jurisdiction of governing principles called
"norms" or "standards." The questions which sociologists have tradi-
tionally asked of their data, then, are addressed to the uniformities
rather than the divergencies of social life: how is it that people learn
to think in similar ways, to accept the same group moralities, to move
by the same rhythms of behavior, to see life with the same eyes? How is
it, in short, that cultures accomplish the incredible alchemy of making
unity out of diversity, harmony out of conflict, order out of confusion?
Somehow we often act as if the differences betw-een people can be taken
for granted, being too natural to require comment, but that the sym-
metry which human groups manage to achieve must be explained by
referring to the molding influence of the social structure.
But variety, too, is a product of the social structure. It is certainly
remarkable that members of a culture come to look so much alike; but
it is also remarkable that out of all this sameness a people can develop
a complex division of labor, move off into diverging career lines, scat-
ter across the surface of the territory they share in common, and create
so many differences of temper, ideology, fashion, and mood. Perhaps
we can conclude, then, that two separate yet often competing currents
are found in any society: those forces which promote a high degree of
conformity among the people of the community so that they know
what to expect from one another, and those forces which encourage a
certain degree of diversity so that people can be deployed across the
range of group space to survey its potential, measure its capacity, and,
in the case of those we call deviants, patrol its boundaries. In such a
scheme, the deviant would appear as a natural product of group dif-
ferentiation. He is not a bit of debris spun out by faulty social ma-
chinery, but a relevant figure in the community's overall division of
labor.
 30 Functionalism
NOTES
1. In fact, the first statement of the general notion presented here was con-
cerned with the study of small groups. See Robert A. Dentler and Kai T.
Erikson, "The Functions of Deviance in Groups," Social Problems, VII (Fall
1959), pp. 98-107.
2. Aldous HuxIey; PrisOlls: TIle "Cflrceri" Etcltirtgs by Pimnesi (London: The
Trianon Press, 1949), p. 13.
3. For a good description of tllls process in the modem prison, see Gresham
Sykes, The Society of Captives (Prince ton, N.].: Prince ton University Press,
1958). For discussions of similar problems in two different kinds of mental
hospital, see Erving Goffrnan, Asylllms (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1962)
and Kai T. Erikson, "Patient Role and Social Uncertainty: A Dilemma of
the Mentally Ill," Psychiatry, XX (August 1957), pp. 263-274.
4. Written by "a celebrated" but not otherwise identified author (perhaps
Henry Fielding) and quoted in John Howard, TIle State of the Prisolls, Lon-
don, 1777 (London: j. M. Dent and Sons, 1929), p. 10.
S. The classic description of this process as it applies to the medical patient is
found in Talcott Parsons, The Social System (Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press,
1951).
6. See Harold Garfinkel, "Successful Degradation Ceremonies/, Americall
JOl/mal of Sociology, LXI (January 1956), pp. 420-424.
7. Albert K. Cohen, for example, speaking for a dominant strain in sociologi-
cal thinking, takes the question quite for granted: "It would seem that the
control of deviant behavior is, by definition, a cultural goaL" See "The
Study of Social Disorganization and Deviant Behavior" in Merton, et al.,
Sociology Today (New York: Basic Books, 1959), p. 465.
Analysis and Critique
4 The Functionalist Approach to Social Problems
MELVIN TUMIN
It has been the steady fate of twentieth century sociology to be deeply in-
volved in matters of U1e highest relevance for policy, and often inten-
tionally so. Our most recent involvements, however, have been matters
~f mixed blessings. For, while we have been handsomely supported in
Important and useful works, we have not altogether avoided SOme of the
less benign features of affluence. One cannot easily shrug off, for in-
1£11965 by the Society for the Study of Social Problems. Reprinted from Social Problems,
Vol. 12, No. 4, Spring 65, pp. 379-388, by permission.
4. Melvin Tumin 31
stance, the moral and aesthetic pinch one feels at the fact that we pros-
per anew with each fresh wave of crime, delinquency, divorce, mental
illness, and poverty.
It is surely not visionary to predict that in the next several decades
the services of sociologists will be sought with even greater frequency by
all kinds of governmental and private agencies. If portents are not alto-
gether misleading, the next twenty years are likely to be known as the
sociological decades. It may be more difficult to recruit sociologists to
work for one rather than another administration. I am confident, how-
ever, that we shall find some satisfactory rationale for continuing to
apply for and accept governmental funds for research on the problems
of interest to us, and I have no less confidence that such funds will be
available in fairly satisfactory amounts, no matter who is in the White
House.
If these allegations prove true, it follows that an increasing number
of sociologists will self-consciously orient their scientific work on the
basis of significant value commitments. It is equally probable, however,
that in the next two decades we shall also witness the most profound re-
finement and elaboration of scientific method in sociology_ The num-
ber of sociologists able to employ sophisticated devices for analysis and
measurement of social phenomena in scientifically rigorous ways is like-
ly to reach an all-time high, both absolutely and proportionately.
While it may at first strike us as disturbing that sociology should be
approaching a period when it will become both more satisfactorily sci-
entific and more consequentially political than it has ever been before, it
is a happy coincidence that our dominant approach to social phenome-
na-namely, functional analysis-is in some ways ideally suited for just
such a period. For a functionalist approach permits the investigator to
take certain ends or interests or system-states as given, and to analyze
the consequences-supportive and destructive-of any given set of
practices for those ends, interests, or system-states. In the process, one
may, without apparent penalty, narrow one's focus of attention so that
only certain lines of consequence for certain actors are highlighted while
others are ignored. This has the dual result of permitting scientific work
to generate certain apparent value implications without really doing so,
and, simultaneously, to carry real value implications without apparent-
ly doing so.
This two-sided role of functionalist science vis-a-vis social values is an
important feature in view of the fact that there has developed among so-
ciologists in recent years a substantial consensus around certain quite
explicit value commitments. The functionalist approach has made the
growth of these value commitments comfortably possible without im-
peding the concomitant development of rigor in the scientific procedures.
 32 Functionalism
Now, functional analysis has come in for a good deal of scrutiny in
the last ten years in the sociological journals. Some have contended it is
a specific and unique form of sociological analysis, while others have in-
sisted it is coterminous with all of sociological analysis. Some, too, have
claimed that functionalism is essentially teleological and mystical, while
others have denied these allegations and have shown how functional
analysis can be free of any such teleologies and can be scientifically rig-
orous. Other students have alleged that functional anlysis is really a
form of causal analysis, while their opponents have insisted that it is
very difficult to go from a functionalist proposition to a causal proposi-
tion, unless one adds certain assumptions about human motives or evo-
lutionary selection. Stin other SOCiologists have tried to show how
functional analysis is essentially conservative or reactionary in its polit-
ical orientation, while their adversaries have denied that it has any in-
herent political orientation at all. Finally. significant disputes have arisen
as to whether functional analysis can be used to deal with problems of
social change or whether such analysis limits the sociologist alone to
studying structure, statics, and the status quo.
You will all recognize these as references to matters raised explicit-
ly or implicitly by such sociologists as Kingsley Davis, Wilbert Moore,
Talcott Parsons, Robert Merton, Dennis Wrong, Ronald Dare, Harry Bre-
demeier, WaIter Buckley, Francesca Cancion, and others; and I am sure
all here will know of the contributions of the distinguished philoso-
phers Carl Hempel and Emest Nagel to these questions regarding func-
tionalism.
If, as Kingsley Davis suggested, it was shrewd of Merton to show
how the existence of contradictory claims regarding the political orien-
tation of functionalism justified our concluding that it was neither con-
servative nor liberal, I am hard pressed to know what would be the
shrewd conclusion to draw from all these opposing claims pro and con
functionalism. The interesting thing is that, like schools of philosophy,
they all sound right when one reads them, but they all sound wrong
when one reads their critics.
TI1ere are hvo features of functionalist method, however, that have
not received as much attention as they merit in these recent debates.
The first is a set of difficulties for sociology as a science which function-
al analysis presents; the second is the variability of the values to which
most of us have become committed. I want to look at each of these in
turn.
Functionalism becomes most interesting-to SOciologist and lay-
man alike-when it is used as a means for determining the extent to
which a given event or custom (or attitude, or practice, or law, or what-
ever) helps to maintain a system intact or works against the mainte-
4. Melvin Turnin 33
nance of the system, however that system may be defined. It seems to
hold the highest promise when so conceived-a promise of scientific
rigor and neutrality. Nothing need be said about the desirability or un-
desirability of the system; indeed, nothing ",ay be said if functionalism,
so conceived, is to be scientifically neutraL
The disturbing thing about functionalism, and maybe about all so-
ciological analysis, is that there is one crucial thing we don't yet know
how to do: devise a sensible, scientifically neutral arithmetic by which
we can add up the so-called eufunctions and dysfunctions of any given
set of practices and arrive at some meaningful over-all number or sym-
bol which would specify tl1e net extent to which the system under ques-
tion was being maintained or destroyed. We can and do malce a series of
sequential but essentially unconnected statements about the conse-
quences of actions-and some have to be "eufunctional" and some hnve
to be "dysfunctional"; there is no way out of that. But an over-all sum-
mation of such mixed partial effects is out of our reach now-and may
be inherently impossible.
Take, as an example, crime. The dysfunctions-their targets and
their relative "amounts"-are roughly determinable. And while
Durkheimian sophistication is often required to spell out and make con-
vincing the eufunction of crime, simple observation of the persisting re-
cidivism in the normal crime careers of some of our fellow citizens
reveals an imposing array of the eufunctions of crime for criminals.
Even for those who are caught and punished, crime may be eufunc-
tional, and often is.
Other examples readily come to mind. Every young sociologist
learns, for instance, what attention he can command by being sophisti-
cated about the positive functions of prostitution, adultery, premarital
sexual intercourse, divorce, and related practices. TIle interesting thing,
of course, is that these claims for the positive functions of practices that
are generally morally condemned are absolutely correct, if sensibly spec-
ified and limi ted.
But, on balance, what can one say about the total impact-eupacts
and dyspacts (why not coin some terms while we're about it?)-of such
practices. On the net balance, are they supportive or destructive of that
system; and of which system? And how could one test the truth of any
such claim? Notice, for instance, that no single institutional arrange-
ment has enjoyed so much published disputation regarding its positive
and negative functions as the phenomenon of social inequality. A num-
ber of us have variously taken turns reminding our antagonists of either
eufunctions or dysfunctions they have overlooked. But in the end we
come out where we started, namely, with a preference-supported by
data, of course, but data that have been weighted and added according
34 Functionalism
to our preferences. And there are no rules to determine which is the bet-
ter or more correct method of toting up the diverse effects.
Now we can look at a second shortcoming of so-called functional
analysis. We have just assumed it is possible, sometimes easily, some-
times with greater difficulty, to identify separate lines of consequences
of various practices as either eupactful or dyspadful for a system
which is taken as a given. But that assumption needs to be examined
more carefully, for there is, I think, an inherent tendency in functional
analysis to close down one's observations too quickly. Let me give an
example. Suppose we are analyzing the structure and function of a
gang of delinquent boys. We find they have dramatic initiation cere-
monies. With our newly acquired sophistication about such matters,
we see that these ceremonies help to smooth the integration of new
members into the group, solidify consensus, reawaken flagging com-
mitments of old members, and generally distribute higher morale
throughout the membership. Naturally, we would be led to assert that
these ceremonies are eufunctional for the continuity and vigorous con-
duct of the gang and its affairs. Since we have taken the gang as the
system, and, therefore, as our "given," we tend, naturally, not to go
much further in the analysis. But suppose this reinvigoration of the
group leads it to excesses of delinquent behavior into which it would
not have been tempted if it had not been so reinvigorated, and sup-
pose these excesses provide just that margin of outrage to the norm-
minded community needed to incite a serious crackdown. What, then,
of the so-called eufunctions of the initiation ceremonies, if in height-
ening group morale and consensus and unity they lead the group to en-
gage in self-defeating and destroying actions? My point is that we do
not often go on to look at the longer and larger and delayed conse-
quences of actions, and we do not do so for MO reasons: (1) The rules
of functional analysis are pretty rigorously insistent that we delimit
and specify the system to whose support or destruction we are refer-
ring our analysis. (2) Typically, moreover, we have Hot designed stud-
ies to watch the changing impact over time of various occurrences,
events, and practices. Our analysis is not geared to historical waiting
and depth. And so we often speak too easily and too quickly. For in-
stance, is the emergence of a fairly rock-ribbed conservative trend in
politics, such as is exemplified by Goldwater, positively or negatively
functional for American democracy? Suppose there is backlash against
the backlash in the near future, and a reinvigoration of liberalism? Sup-
pose this in turn generates a third party force? Suppose this leads to a
real fractionating of political power, with strategic minorities coming to
play even more dominant roles? How, then, will we assess the long
r;mP"P pffprt" nf thp r:nl,.:h,v::1tpr n::1rhr?
4. Melvin Tumin 35
Examples such as these point up a painful dilemma. The strength of
functional analysis presumably lies in its ability to do skilled dissection
and analysis of the ways in which social actions interplay in a network
of interdependence within a given system, and thus presumably clarify
in some as yet unnamed way "why" the practices are present. In short,
there is some presumed unique strength in the ahistoricihj of the analyt-
ic method. But now we find that it is precisely this ahistoricity which
rnalces our analyses often of such dubious value. And even worse, it is '
future history rather than past history that we seem to need to control.
And how do we do that?
Let me briefly mention MO other problems presented by function-
al analysis. The first of these can be stated simply as follows: using func-
tional analysis, sociologists have no way of making relevant, competent
scientific statements about any system talcen as a whole. If we are in trou-
ble, as we are, because we cannot sensibly add up the diversities of eu-
pacts and dyspacts of various substructures within any given system, we
are in even worse trouble when it comes to assessing a system as a
whole. We simply have not developed a method or language adequate
to total system comparison. Our only "out" is to take the system which
we first used as a "given" and place it in a context of a larger system of
which it is a sub-unit and ask questions about its positive and negative
contributions to that larger system. Thus, we do reasonably well in con-
sidering, functionally, the sub-units of national state aggregates; but
when we get to the level of nation-state aggregation, or go on to multi-
national systems, we are simply unable to say things that couldn't just as
well be said by anybody else. One has only to listen to the usual com-
parisons of, say, America with England or France to realize that one
might just as well hold these conversations with untrained fellow
tourists in the bar of the S.s. Rotterdam.
I believe the difficulty just stated is inherent in functional analysis
taken in its best and most generous terms.
The second difficulty has to do with the internal pressure of func-
tionalism to find a rationale for all things. Of course, all things have rea-
sons for coming into being and other reasons for persisting. But to say
this is to say nothing. For it is clear that some social events are much
more deterrninistically generated by a given system, while others can be
seen as system-bound and determined only in the loosest sense. I am
trying to suggest that a great deal of what we do in any given day sim-
ply is irrelevant and unnecessary from the point of view of system main-
tenance. It is a frill or a fringe benefit, or deficit of the system; it is
garbage or junk from the point of view of system-requirements. It may
be esthetically gratifying, or neurotically compulsive, or luxuriously en-
~""TT.,'hl ..... 1.",,1- 1-1-. ........ .., ., ..~ ,,"' ..... , ,-litfn .."'.... I-l-i ..... ,-l'" nf ..o",,,,r.n,,, fr. .. I-ho ov;c:ton,.,,,, r..f
 36 Functionalism
practices than the reasons we might offer for the existence of a division
of labor. Functionalism-and maybe that means sociology in general as
presently practiced, in whatever version-is inadequate to this prob-
lem. Either we must learn to ignore the junk and garbage and frills and
fringes; or we must find a meaningful place for them in our system of
analysis, especially if they are features by which we are often most dra-
matically characterised, such as the state of our creative arts. At the mo-
ment, all we can do is be uneasy about these things because we neither
ignore them nor find a place for them.
I now want to turn from this first set of problems presented by func-
tional analysis and consider a second set of problems to which only
sparse attention has been paid in recent discussions of functionalism.
These problems concern the relationships behveen functional analysis as
a method, on the one hand, and our variable value commitments, on
the other, specifically, our variable attitudes toward different "social
problems." Here one must be avowedly more impressionistic.
Why is it, one must ask, that while we, Le., practicing sociologists,
seem to be almost uniformly against poverty, mental illness, and racial
discrimination, we are somewhat less than unifonnly against war, and in
some important senses, we are for such things as divorce, adultery, pros-
titution, crime: delinquency, and interracial disorders.
When I say we are "for" or "against" any of these, I mean several
things.
First, sociologists who work and report on problems of poverty,
mental illness, and racial discrimination couldn't be clearer about their
implied condemnation of these phenomena. These are social abomina-
tions to be done away with as quickly as possible.
By contrast, the sociological profession as a whole is much more
ambivalent about war, and some sociologists have even made reputa-
tions as cold-war warriors, counselling very important persons lodged
in the highest reaches of the Establislunent. The implication here is also
clear: war is sometimes good, or at least necessary.
By further contrast, sociological analyses of such matters as divorce,
delinquency, crime, prostitution, and adultery often show either a cool
detachment and implied lack of concern about the problematic aspects
of these phenomena ordinarily attributed to them by the laymen of our
society; or sociologists tend to display an almost whimsical kind of af-
fection, guided by a thoroughly sympathetic understanding of how peo-
ple could get involved in these normally disapproved patterns of
behavior. Sometimes the attitude is not only "Well, what could you ex-
pect, given the situation of these people and the structure of society," but
also includes a kind of militant applause for these types of reactions to
., • ,., 1 r ." r .f _, ~ '_.
4. Melvin Tumin 37
A second indication of variable attitudes toward social problems is
revealed in the informal judgments we tend to make about the ex-
pectability of the incidences and rates of these problematic phenomena.
We write as if there were no good grounds on which to expect any
poverty or racial discrimination-there are not ineluctable cultural com-
pulsions in these directions, we imply. By contrast, we are somewhat
tentatively expectant of a discernible incidence of mental disorder; and
we tend to see recurring wars as quite expectable. And when it comes to
divorce, adultery, delinquency, crime, prostitution, and racial protests,
we often imply that, sociolOgically speaking, we are a lucky society to
experience only as little of these matters as we do. We often add wisely
that there is probably a lot more of these things than is ever recorded-
except divorce, of course, and here we count "unhappy marriage" as
the equivalent of divorce.
Third, and most relevantly here, we reveal our variable attitudes
toward a range of social problems by the kinds of so-called functional
analyses we do of these problems. Mental illness, racial discrimination,
and poverty have no positive functions for anyone, judging by most so-
ciological writings; or, if they do, then clearly the persons or interest
blocs who do profit from these problems are villainous. Above all, no
good can be identified for the system as a whole. By contrast, some wars
are often seen at least as better than some peaceful alternatives; and in
conSidering such phenomena as delinquency, divorce, adultery, prosti-
tution, and crime, we have become very adroit at identifying positive
functions for actors, interest blocs, and the society as a whole.
In sum, our so-called scientific analyses tend often to lean heavily on
the side of negative functions in the case of some problem phenomena;
range around a balance of positive and negative functions in the case of
other phenomena; and lean heavily toward the other pole of positive
functions in the case of still other problems.
Why should this be so? There is little, if anything, in the scientific
findings per se that would suggest that these variable one-sidednesses in
~ur analyses are justified. That all of these phenomena have both posi-
tive and negative functions is quite clear. There is no difficulty, for in-
stance, in spelling out certain benign consequences of poverty, especially
if one is indifferent to his moral standing in the community. One could,
for example, mention the positive functions for wealthy people of the
poverty of others; or the availability of cheap services and labor; or the
disparate power quotients that some can enjoy; or the feelings of well-
being that do-gooders and philanthropists Can secure; or the political
strength of party programs that pay attention to poverty; or the smug
euphoria that reports of our poverty bring to Arnericanophobic Euro-
peans.
38 Functionalism
So, too, one can even talk about the positive functions for the system
as {/ whole of a quotient of poverty that can function as a rallying point for
general social conscience and can energize ameliorative concern that
might otherwise lie dormant. It does not take much imagination to do
this kind of thing. Ever since Durkheim showed us how some crime is
positively functional for the rest of society, it has not taken much sensi-
tivity or cleverness to extrapolate to other phenomena and do the same
thing.
Since, then, \ve can identify both positive and negative conse-
quences or functions for aU the social problems we face, the only possi-
ble justification for favoring some problems above others would lie in
the net bl7iallce of positive and negative consequences. But we have
shown earlier that we have no techniques available to us for adding up
the pluses and minuses and coming out with some meaningful overall
calculation or quotient of net effect. We have no way, in short, of saying
whether, on balance, the society is threatened more by the totality of
mental illness and its consequences than by the totality of delinquency
and its consequences. If we cannot do so, then we cannot scientifically
justify our tendency to stress the negative aspects of some phenomena
and the positive aspects of others.
So, it is not in the scientific findings themselves that we will dis-
cover why our biases are so variously distributed. Nor will we find the
reason in the relative difficulty and ease of analysis of these problems.
They are all relatively equally susceptible to clever or banal, mediocre or
insightful analyses.
Nor can one find in the historical span of the problems any good
grounds for feeling so differently about them. Poverty has been with us
for as long as prostitution and adultery; and while it may be true that it
required official certification by a presidential office to establish pover-
ty as a legitimate focus of interest and attention, that would onlyac-
count for the novelty of the interest and not the type of interest
expressed.
I want to offer a number of hypotheses as to why some problems
seem more baleful than others. We have spoken of the senselessness
and needlessness of certain problems. Poverty doesn't make any sense;
mental illness doesn't; racial discrimination doesn't-not by any tolera-
ble moral standards accepted in our community. There are no good
grounds for poverty. especially when there is so much wealth. Mental ill-
ness may serve many positive functions ancillary to the main body of
identified negative functions, but there is no acceptable ground for
putting up with it. This is, I think, how the public conscience runs
among sociologists.
But this conscience needs accounting for.
4. Melvin Tumin 39
The reason our analyses run the way they do, I think, has to do with
a part of functional analysis once again-namely, the doctrine of func-
tional equivalents. Simply, I mean that the possible functional equiva-
lents of the disapproved phenomena either are nonexistent or arc even
more repulsive than the actual problems themselves, while, by contrast,
the functional equivalents of the more approved phenomena are them-
selves either as tolerable and acceptable as the phenomena, or even
morally praiseworthy.
What, for instance, is the functional equivalent of mental disorder?
If we pretend to know tilat mental illness functions to help tile victim to
get out of an intolerable situation, then some other forms of escape are
the functional equivalents; and we don't approve of these escapes any
more than we do of the illness itself.
One has to be careful, of course, with the doctrine of functional
equivalents. For one must always ask: functionally equivalent for
whom? It is one thing to ask what could serve the same functions for
poverty-stricken people as poverty-and that would be an idiotic ques-
tion-but it is not idiotic to ask what could substitute for poverty in the
total culture that would have the same effects on the culture as poverty.
For here one can think of such things as rigorous caste structures; or
other forms of extreme status deprivations; or totalitarian power struc-
tures that would yield many of the same functions. As I noted before,
these functional equivalents are even less tolerable than the actual man-
ifestations.
By contrast, the functional equivalents of the more approved prob-
lems often have very strong positive connotations. Thus, one equiva-
lent of delinquency is the expression of independence of adult norms
and stuffiness. So, too, prostitution can be seen, and often is seen, as a
symbolic rejection of intolerable sexual standards of the bourgeoisie,
and an implicit denunciation of commercialized sale of sex hiding under
the guise of marriage. Or, divorce and adultery are simply evil-sounding
terms for expressions of spirit that rise above the ordinary limitations of
unjustified normative restraints. These may be hyperbolic ways of stat-
ing these matters-but the essential truth, or claim for it at least, is evi-
dently there and quite plain to be seen.
In effect, then, I am contending we like some problems more than
others because we don't think they are really problems. And we don't
think they are really problems because we see them as indirect expres-
sions of laudable human spirit and verve and honesty or straightfor-
wardness breaking through the hypocritical bounds of our ordinary
norms. For these reasons, I suggest, we tacitly applaud some of these
problems by insisting on revealing a large proportion of positive func-
tions these actions serve for a number of actors with whom we identify,
 r UllLUUU"Ul!>ln
and tacitly deny importance to the negative functions they play for other
actors with whom we have not very much sympathy, or for the system
as a whole, which we hold blameworthy in the first place.
A second source of our variable attitudes toward problems is also
connected intimately with functional analysis. I suggest that most of us
have been pressed against our own political inclinations to play the role
of neutral social scientist, committed to withholding value judgments in
those roles. Functional analysis does not make possible an overall criti-
cal evaluation of our society. But our mvn inner selves will out, whether
we like it or not. And so we employ functional analysis in such a way as
to permit ourselves to be both sociologists and concerned citizens. V\'hat,
in fact, we do is deliver ourselves of our overall evaluations of our soci-
ety by emphasizing the positive aspects of certain phenomena and the
negative aspects of others. Our cultivated but repressed tendencies to-
ward informed muckraking, our views of ourselves as conscientious
citizens, which our neutral sociological roles do not permit us to in-
dulge: these are given expression by the way in which we slant our
work So we give short shrift to poverty, mental illness, and racial dis-
criminations; we are sophisticatedly ambivalent about war; and we por-
tray our sympathies for the downtrodden in our analyses of crime and
delinquency. In our own minds, we add up all these un-addible things
and see ourselves as giving public vent to our condemnation of our so-
ciety's malfunctionings. In short we let people lmow where we stand on
our society as a system and not simply what we know about it.
A third reason why we bias our functional analyses has to do with
the process of identification. The victims of mental illness, poverty, and
racial discrimination are not the least bit appealing, at least not by any
sort of ordinary standards. It takes quite an effort, I suggest, for most
people really to identify with the poor, the Negro, or the mentally sick in
our society. Understand them, yes; and sympathize, yes; and want to
help, yes; but idenlifiJ? No. For that means actively thinking of ourselves
as poor or Negro or mad. And not many of us are built to be able to
take on those nightmares.
One might even suggest that the victims of these social outrages
generate in us a certain amount of moral despisal which we recognize as
cruelty, and about which we feel guilty; we handle our guilt by con-
verting it into professed outrage at the society which throws up such
victims.
By contrast, the actors in delinquency, crime, adultery, and divorce
often tend to command oUI positive sympathies because, I suggest, they
are doing things many of us would like to be able to do. Mitty-like, we
dream about doing them, but never manage to get to them. And while it
is probably rare for a male sociologist to dream affectionately about
4. Melvin Tumin 41
being a prostitute, or to wish he could be one, the kind of total situation
in which the relative sexual freedom of the prostitute would be the pre-
vailing norm is surely one about which many of us must often fanta-
size. Even the more pleasant aspects of taking drugs and of intoxication
are probably quite within our scope of positive identification.
A fourth dynamic that may shape our attitudes toward social prob-
lems lies in the distinction between cause and symptom. As sociolo-
gists, we tend to see crime and delinquency and such other phenomena
as symptoms of deep-lying c:lisorders of the social system-of poverty,
for instance. We are reluctant to condemn such symptomatic behaviors,
especially if we see them as naturally arising out of the basic disorders
over which the "deviant" actors or victims have little or no control. In
some senses, indeed, we tend to impute certain "healthy" attributes to
these symptomatic reactions to inadequacies and inequities in the so-
cial system. In much the same way we invest racial demonstrations with
positive functionality, seeing such demonstrations as natural reactions to
racial discrimination and as "healthier" modes of reaction than the his-
torically traditional subservience of the "oppressed" groups. (We rec-
ognize that this line of reasoning will not apply to the attitudes we
express toward mental illness, but that is no reason not to consider its
relevance for the other phenomena just discussed.)
A fifth and final possible source of our variable attitudes toward so-
cial problems has to do with our judgment of the relative importance of
the various problems. I suggest that we are relatively offhanded about
crime and delinquency and prostitution and divorce, partly because we
believe that they don't really matter very much-that they really don't
disturb any important social values and don't really gum up the social
works to any significant degree. This attitude is perhaps most obvious in
the case of divorce, which we rarely deplore because we feel it is not
only natural and expectable but a rather good institution, all things con-
sidered. Our tendency to press for far more liberal divorce laws is evi-
dence in point. Our informal and perhaps unjustified sneers at marriage
counseling also testify to our endorsement of the importance of the free-
dom to divorce.
If there is any credence to be given to these five suggested reasons
for variable attitudes toward problems, then it is clear our functional
analyses, attuned to these desires and preferences, are slanted in most
unscientific ways. While some of our biasing sentiments match those
of the rest of the community, by and large, as sociologists we tend to be
less "square" about these matters than most other segments of the com-
munity. We stand in between the morally disapproving sections of the
community, on the one hand, and the actual participants in the prob-
lems themselves, on the other.

I have indicated the intimate connection between so-called scien-
tific sociology and a range of non- or unscientific elements that guide
and condition that activity in important ways. I wish further to suggest,
finally, that this kind of close interplay of values and science, or of sen-
timent and science, is probably most difficult to avoid. Perhaps it is al-
together unavoidable, so long as functional analysis is our dominant
mode of approach to social problems. Whether we should avoid these
unscientific predilections and prefigurings of our scientific activity is
quite another question. But it is interesting to note that a major func-
tion of functionalism for sociologists is that it minimizes role strain for
them as they seek simultaneously to play the parts of both concerned cit-
izens and neutral, value-free scientists. In an era when both these roles
have high salience for a group of professionals, a general approach
which reduces the potential1y great role strain is not without virtue.
Contemporary Application
5 "Log on to Sex"; Some Notes on the Carnal Computer and
Erotic Cyberspace as an Emerging Research Frontier
KEITH F. DURKIN and CLlFTON D. BRYANT
New forms of deviancy, including sexual deviancy, are not entirely the
invention of the fertile imagination. More often, new opportunities in the
pursuit of deviancy are provided by innovations in technology. Such
opportunities, in turn, invite or occasionally even drive exploration and
experimentation in using the technology, with the result that new, and
sometimes ingenious residual functions and latent uses of the tedmol-
ogy relevant to deviancy are discovered. Thus, novel configurations of
deviant behavior, including sexual deviancy, may evolve in a kind of
serendipitous fashion from technological invention.
TECHNOLOGY AND DEVIANT BEHAVIOR
Behavioral scientists have long reCOgnized that emerging technology
has a powerful influence on human behavior, although frequently there
Reprinted from Devlnnt Bd/mlior: All Interdisciplinnry Journal, 16: 179-200. Copyright ©
1995 Taylor & Francs. Reprinted by permission.
TIlis paper is a revised version of a pilper presented at the ]993 Mid-South Sociologi-
cal Association Meetings held in Montgomery, Alabama, October 27-30,1993.
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 43
is a delay or lag between the emergency of the tecImology and the sodal
behavioral adaptation to it (Ogburn 1964).1 The social response to tech-
nology often takes the form of teclmicways, or normative and patterned
behavioral configurations (Odum 1937; Bryant 1984)2 Whereas tech-
nicways generally assume functional dimensions, they may also mu-
tate and take on dysfunctional or even deviant parameters. These
deviant technicways often encompass sexually proscribed behavior. Fur-
thermore, deviant sexual technicways would appear to divide and mul-
tiply in an entropic fashion.
Some examples of technology and sexually deviant adaptation in-
clude the automobile, which was intended as a means of transportation
but has also proved to be a splendid platform for private assignation
and fornication, as well as a major "vehicle" for a wide variety of clan-
destine sexual misconduct; and Edison's motion picture projector, which
was intended for wholesome vicarious entertainment but has also
proved to be extremely effective in affording vicarious carnal gratifica-
tion in the form of pornographic films. The telephone also has served to
generate a multitude of opportunities for carnal gratification. Its capac-
ity for anonymous conununication has made possible the obscene phone
calL' It has also afforded the opportunity for the telephone masturbator
to use a telephone conversation with a female as the basis for sexual
fantasy and carnal stimulation, incorporating the autoerotic activity into
the fantasy.4 The effectiveness of this practice has been exploited in re-
cent years by so-called "dial-a-pom" services,5 which offer sexually ex-
plicit conversation for salacious purposes on a commercial basis.
Undoubtedly, in time many others will grasp the deviant efficacy of the
telephone and perceive additional innovative uses.
The citizens-band (CB) radio is another case in point. The CB radio
initially appealed to persons who sought a convenient and efficient
means for communicating in emergencies and in other inopportune cir-
cumstances. Truck drivers proved to be an enthusiastic customer group,
using the CB radio to contact other truckers. Prostitutes also found truck
drivers to be an enthusiastic customer group for their sexual services,
and for some prostitutes, using the CB radio, which proved to be an ex-
pedient way to contact truckers, became a standard mode of soliciting
customers (KJein 1981; Luxenburg and Klein 1983). Like legitimate busi-
nesspeople, deviant commercial enterprises are often quick to take ad-
vantage of new technology to improve efficiency and maximize profits.
For example, rather than the bordeIIo prostitute of times past, the pros-
titute contacted by telephone-the "call girl"-is now the nonn in some
locales. Prostitutes in some resort cities, such as Las Vegas, are said to
carry beepers, in order to be able to respond quickly to telephone re-
quests for sexual services.
 44 FtUlctionalism
The near explosion of technological advances in recent decades, in
such fields as electronics, photography, and communications, to mention
but a few, has deluged society with a cornucopia of devices and appli-
ances, compelling in their novelty and application, but ominous in their
latent deviant capabilities. Numerous instruments and mechanisms
ranging from the Polaroid camera to the camcorder have been shown to
have suitable utility for the facilitation of sexual deviance. Of the most
recent technolOgical products, the computer promises to open enormous
new frontiers of opportunity for the proliferation and enhancement of
sexual deviance, to have an applicability for carnal behavior that is so-
cially volatile in both its perversity and import.
THE COMPUTER, CYBERSPACE, AND DEVIANT
INFORMATION
The computer, although intended primarily as a mechanism for ex-
tremely rapid, extraordinarily complex, computational purposes, quick-
ly came to be seen also as a communication device. The computer paired
with modem telephone technology has come to serve as a highly effi-
cient means of contacting persons and corporate entities all over the
world. On-line bulletin board systems, known as BBSs, are essen"tial1y
modem-day, high-tech, electronic "party lines," by which users can send
and receive messages, engage in conversations, and upload and down-
load files. The electronic entity or domain that encompasses bulletin
boards and all of the other communicative potential of computers has
become known as "cyberspace" (Gibson 1989). By linking up with a
particular, specialized HBS, one can use a computer to contact individ-
uals with mutual interests anywhere in the world. In 1987, there were
4,000 BBSs; by 1992, there were 44,000. Periodicals such as Boardwatch or
Computer Shopper list and describe the array of available BBSs (see New
York Ti1lles 1989, p. 38). On-line services such as CompuServe, Prodigy,
~A..merica Online, and Delphi offer the computer user immediate access to
all sorts of information, such as news, weather, travel services, and stock
market quotes, as well as access to all kinds of specialized interest bul-
letin boards and the means to send and receive private messages. On-
line services thus permit people to contact and communicate with
persons who share similar interests and avocations, which may involve
such disparate topics as cooking, cats, and chess (see U.S. News and
World Report 1985, p. 59).
Because the on-line services reach an unknown multitude of com-
puter users (inasmuch as instilutional computers are used by vast num-
nf inrtivi rh'<olc: fn ................ n"''''''' ,..,,...~ .."'l .... h-.,-l
hPT':::
~ .... ~"h .... ; .. TH,,~l,
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 45
number of persons who can access BB Ss cannot be accurately calculat-
ed), there is the potential for an enormous range of interests to be ad-
dressed, including deviant interests. Aware of this market,
entrepreneurs of all stripes are rising to the need and offering unique
BBSs to satisfy even the most exotic requirements. A relatively superfi-
cial exploration of available bulletin boards reveals a diverse array of
nonsexual, deviant variants seeking subscribers, or interested persons
who might like to share information. Included among this genre of BBS
is one that collects and distributes all sorts of law-enforcement radio
codes, including generic codes and frequencies as well as special codes
for specific law enforcement agencies. While these codes are made
available ostensibly to help computer users better "enjoy" and under-
stand the radio traffic on a police scanner, it is patently obvious that
this master list of police codes could easily find miscreant uses. Addi-
tionally, this bulletin board provides a compendium of information
concerning plants and substances that have psychotropic properties
but are technically not illegal to possess at this time. It also contains
relatively detailed information about automatic teller machine (ATM)
fraud, which would no doubt be quite instructive to a would-be ATM
thief. The same bulletin board gives advice on how to cause vandalistic
damages, including lists of useful vandalism tools (wire cutter, BB gun,
etc.) and appealing sites to be vandalized, such as the showroom win-
dows of automobile dealerships.
In addition to bulletin boards that deliberately provide deviant
information, some bulletin boards are used by individuals seeking tech-
nical advice for deviant acts. Several years ago, for example, a 10-year-
old youngster in the Midwest placed an ad seeking instructions for
making a time bomb on a bulletin board devoted to scientific interests.
Someone with the necessary expertise did provide the information, and
the boy subsequently blew up a mailbox using a bomb the he had con-
structed Uackson 1989, p. 20).
THE CARNAL COMPUTER AND CYBERSEX
Sometimes the interest being catered to by a bulletin board may be sex,
particularly esoteric variations of sex that frequently are deviant and
sometimes illega1. This potential use of bulletin boards has not escaped
the notice of relevant U.s. governmental agencies. The Attorney Gener-
al's Commission on Pornography (U.5. Department of Justice 1986, p.
1437), for example, has stated:
The personal home computer provides individuals with an extraordi-
nary new fonn of_communication and information access. Providers of
... __ 11 ___ _ >-":_1_ l.. ____ <._1 ____ ..1 ____ <. ____ ..L, ____ ._ .. __L __ 1_
J."h~ ~~h.~l
~~ ._1~-!<. ~
 46 Functionalism
gy by making computer subscription services the most recent advance
in "sexually explicit communications."
Although the computer can be used to communicate directly with
specific individuals in other locales using E-mail and other modes of
communication, initial and subsequent contacts involving "erotic en-
tertainment" are often made through intermediate computer networks,
in the form of sexually oriented bulletin boards. 6 Because it allows "two
users to exchange intimacies in private" (Time 1984, p. 83), the comput-
er bulletin board, particularly when used for erotic purposes, can per-
haps best be likened to the Valentine box in grammar or middle school
into which students could put anonymous Valentine messages to be
taken out and read by those to whom they were addressed. The box
could also be used to respond privately. The sexually oriented comput-
er bulletin board permits users to trade pseudonymous messages.
The initial anonymity of these bulletin boards may give way to a
more intimate and personalized (albeit guarded) form of carnal interac-
tion. One newspaper account (Markoff 1992, p. 5), for example, describes
this process:
One recent evening, users of the America Online network had the op-
portunity to visit a series of "rooms" offering, for example, "Naughty
Girls," "Romance Connection" and a "Gay Room." After meeting elec-
tronically in the public room-actually a window in which comments
from many users scroll by-new friends adjourned to private rooms for
intimate conversations, often using noms de plume or "handJes."
Exchanging erotic verbal crut-chat via computer has been labeled
as a new form of "erotic entertainment in which consenting computer
owners exchange X-rated messages over the telephone lines" (Time 1984,
p. 83). Allegedly, some couples who meet over the computer and ex-
change erotic pleasantries sometimes move on to exchange names, tele-
phone numbers, and pictures; they may even arrange dates. Some have
gotten married (Time 1984, p. 83). Media accounts have even reported a
new formalized or institutionalized bond between computer daters that
represents a step in commitment that is short of marriage but perhaps
more analogous to an engagement. Some computer partners enter into
a "cyber-wedding," an electronic bond that lets the individuals "pledge
their love while looking ahead to a future that could include real-life
marriage-if they hit it off [when they later meet in person]" (Haight
1994, p. 1).
A few years back, erotic exchange by computer was said to be "most-
ly lighthearted flirting" (Time 1984, p. 83). Recently, however, computer
sex has been moving in more intimate and compelling directions. On-line
socializing with a member of the opposite sex that has moved beyond
5. Keilh F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 47
lighthearted flirting has been termed "hot chatting" (Tamosaitis 1994,
p. 56). The anonymity that computer interaction affords provides self-
confidence, allows the individual to assume almost any identity (e.g.,
become any age, take on any appearance, and effect any persona), and
promotes inspiration. A person can interact with a "computer pal," de-
velop a symbolic sexual intimacy, share erotic fantasies, talk "dirty," and
in the process, experience a "tonic" for rus or her real-life sex. Hot chat-
ting in cyberspace appears to help energize the libido of persons who
have a jaded sex relationship with their regular partner. As one 45-year-
old attorney was reported to have revealed (Tamosaitis 1994, p. 68):
I've been married for 15 years and sex with my wife has grown routine.
But after I've spent some time in erotic banter "With a sensitive female
online, I bring new enthusiasm and desire back into my bedroom.
Such an erotic process would seem to be functional, provided the indi-
vidual does not become unduly preoccupied with his or her cyberspace
"lover." Such a preoccupation could conceivably lead to marital fric-
tion.
While hot chatting may be a developmental process, with the inter-
action moving in incremental fashion to more intense levels of salacious
conversation, it appears that participants' intentions often are obvious
from the outset, as evidenced by the computer names they select. One
researcher (Matek 1988, pp. 120-121) has observed, for example, that
[O]hscene content is not always a part of this chatter, but the names
of "handles" chosen by many of these participants divulge a sexual
implication: Honey Blonde, Priapus Rex, Wet End, Love for Tender,
Bilady Jugs. At times the "conversation" too is suggestive, and occa-
sionally the computer screens read like a pornographic novel, as wo or
more strangers engage in "computer sex" with each of the participants
describing successive steps in their fantasy encounter.
Obviously, some individuals derive carnal enjoyment from the mu-
tual use of sexual words with a person of the opposite sex, and the com-
puter handily affords the opportunity with both convenience and
anonymity.
THE COMPUTER AND SEXUAL DEVlANCY
The computer bulletin board system can provide an enormous, and ex-
tremely rapid, contact network for persons of related interests, including
those interested "in sexual deviancy. Individuals can seek, identify, and
communicate with fellow deviants of similar carnal persuasion across
the country, and even around the world. Information from deviant sub-
cultures can be broadly disseminated, and interested new persons can be
48 Functionalism
recruited. Individuals can learn of fOlmal meeting sites, and informal
gathering places, and can even arrange a personal rendezvous.
The sexual computer network offers a high degree of anonymity,
protection, and secrecy. Individuals can, through their personal com-
puter, verbalize their sexual fantasies, and, in some instances, go on to
operationalize them. The sexual bulletin boards operate at varying lev-
els of lasciviousness. Some are hardly more than "naughty," while oth-
ers are disturbingly degenerate, even to the point of being pathological.
As in an onion, when each layer of carnality is peeled back, another
deeper and more perverse layer is revealed. There are ominous signs in
this phenomenon. There are reported to be instances in wmch attempts
were made to solidify contacts with teenagers or children who had in-
advertently discovered some of the bulletin boards while playing with a
computer (Los Angeles Times 1989, pp. 20-21). One newspaper account
(Markoff 1992, p. ES) reports:
Last fall, a 42-year-old man in Fremont, California, using a nationwide
computer conferencing system, posed as a 13-year-old homosexual
boy. He said he was electronically approached by someone identify-
ing himself as a 50-year-old New Yorker who tried to arrange a meet-
ing. In Massachusetts in January, a man was indicted for raping a
12-year-old boy whom he befriended through a computer bulletin
board.
In a case that occurred several years ago, law enforcement authori-
lies from California arrested hAlo men in Virginia who were trying to
locate a 12-year-old child to molest and then to murder as the subject
matter for a "snuff" film (Jackson 1989, pp. 20-21). The authorities dis-
covered the plot through an ad placed by the two men on a computer
bulletin board seeking other people with a sexual interest in children. In
a telephone conversation with an undercover detective, One of the men
indicated that he recognized the risk involved in lddnapping a young-
ster and then murdering him, but that "the pleasure of doin' it would be
worth it." When arrested, one of the men had a supply of muriatic acid
to apply to the youngster's corpse.
Apparently these are not isolated incidents. A press release from
the u.s. Department of Justice issued on Tuesday, August 31, 1993, re-
ported that "people who use computers to obtain child pornography
are being arrested and charged by federal prosecutors" (p. 1). The press
release went on to say that since May, six persons had been charged or
indicted, and nine more cases were to be filed in September. In these
cases, the Justice Department had obtained information about a cmld
pornography bulletin board in Aalborg, Denmark, known as BAMSE.
They had learned that several hundred Americans were using this bul-
letin board and were paving fees to download Q:raohic imaQ:es. text. ,:lnrl
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 49
computer games dealing with child and hard-core pornography. The
U.S. authorities asked the Danish police to seardl the home of the Dan-
ish national who operated the bulletin board. The Danish police did so
and seized the computer system records and a large number of porno-
graphic pictures of children. A few months later, at the request of U.s.
authorities, Danish police raided another home and obtained the com-
puter records of another child pornography bulletin board known as
SCREWDRIVER. U.S. Customs Service officials traveled to Denmark to
copy the computer records. After examining the records, they discerned
that a number of Americans had been "importing" child pornography
by computer. A massive federal law enforcement effort called "Opera-
tion Long Arm" served 31 search warrants in 15 states and 30 cities. The
various indictments reported in the press release resulted from that op-
eration. According to the release, the searches, arrests, and indictments
were possible because, "since each purchase had to be made by elec-
tronic messaging, detailed records were obtainable" (U.S. Department of
Justice, August 13, 1993, p. 2).
Agents of various law enforcement agencies, such as U.s. postal in-
spectors, routinely explore sexually oriented bulletin boards with the
intention of catching offenders who are transmitting child pornography
or looking to exploit or victimize children. In 1989, after exploring on-
line services, a group of postal inspectors, Illinois state police, Chicago
police, and Cook County (lllinois) deputy sheriffs arrested 90 people on
charges of trafficking in child pornography and child molestation (Jack-
son 1989, p. 20).
Reports of children encountering the dangers of sexual deviancy
as they explore cyberspace are becoming more numerous. One recent
newspaper account (Schwartz 1993, p. 26), for example, relates that "an
8-year-old girl [inadvertently was] attempting computer conversations
with a group of transvestites." The little girl, according to the newspa-
per report was "using her computer and modem to make new friends
through a service called America On-line" (Schwartz 1993, p. 1) and
discovered an electronic discussion group called "TV chat," which
stood for "transvestite dlat." The little girl thought it meant "televi-
sion chat." An adult who happened to be monitoring the interaction
fortunately steered the youngster to a more suitable discussion group.
The same newspaper account told of a mother who discovered that her
"telecomputing 13-year-old son [had] started getting messages full of
sexual innuendo from adult women" (Schwartz 1993, p. 26). The same
mother also was appalled when "her ll-year-old son was approached
on line recently by a woman in her 305 who invited him to do it, per-
haps not knowing his age." A Massachusetts prosecutor asserted, "In-
"'~t:><>rl nf )'",nmno- ", .. n,,-nrl ~),'" .,....l"'u.-.-..nnnrl lnnlr'no- fr. .. ~),t:> In-nQlio,,~ lr-:;rl
50 Functionalism
potential child molesters merely have to log on" (Kantrowitz et a1. 1994,
p.40).
The hazards of cybersex do not pertain only to children. Electronic
erotica may also come to be a "rival" in a marriage. In another newspa-
per report (Garreau 1993, p. A-10), the author reveals:
One woman wrote The Washingtoll Post complaining that her husband,
who had been in therapy for his sexual problems, found affirmation,
acceptance and ultimately physical companionship in the bondage
and discipline conference on CompuServe, one of several large switch-
ing systems on which subscribers can order merchandise, make airline
reservations, check the weather and talk dirty. The pair is now di-
vorcing.
There is yet another danger in cyberspace. Females aTe more sought
after than men for computer talk. As a result, some users resort to "gen-
der bending" -a person of one sex (usually a man) portraying himself as
the opposite sex. According to a newspaper report, "male wallflowers
have learned, however, that if they sign on as women they are instantly
flocked to" (Garreau 1993, p. A-lO). Sometimes gender bending can be-
come quite elaborate, and even sinister. One such instance was the case
of "Joan," a gregarious computer user who used the handle "Talkin
Lady" and became something of an electronic celebrity (see Van Gelder
1985, p. 94). "Joan" claimed to be a New York neuropsychologist in her
late 20s who was confined to a wheelchair because of a serious auto-
mobile accident that had killed her boyfriend and left her severely dis-
figured and with multiple physical handicaps. "Joan" had many
computer friends and fans. One of her fans, a married woman, devel-
oped such affectionate ties to her as a sexual confidant and vicarious
"lover" that she almost left her husband. In reality, "Joan" was a promi-
nent New York psychiatrist named Alex in his 50s who made a hobby
out of his computer deception. On one occasion, "Joan" introduced a
woman "she" met through the computer to the real-life Alex, who went
on to have an affair with her. It was traumatic to many of "her" con-
tacts when "Joan's" true identity was revealed.
This type of occurrence, coupled -with the reported attempts (some-
times successful) on the part of some individuals to lure juvennes into
meetings for sexual purposes, raises the possibility of "gender bending"
as a device for developing a misrepresented relationship with a woman
via computer and luring her into a meeting for perverse purposes.
The use of cyberspace for criminal intent with a sexual dimension
sometimes assumes convoluted parameters. It has been reported, for
example, that authorities have uncovered that a "violence-prone orga-
nization" called the Aryan Brotherhood Youth Movement had estab-
li<:hPr1 plprh"nnir hlll1",t-in hn"'rrlc in t"h,..o.o rl-iFt", .. ",rd·
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 51
compile lists of suspected homosexuals for the intended purpose of as-
saulting them Gackson 1989, p. 20).
COMPUTER GUIDES TO SEXUAL DEVIANCE
Whereas there are numerous bulletin boards that address nonsexual de-
viancy, a significant number also have a sexual orientation. These are
available in great variety. Some are like travel guides, in that they pro-
vide information about the sexual services (and prices) available in dif-
ferent cities in the United States, Mexico, various countries in Europe,
and so forth. Sometimes, specific establishments are mentioned, and
some bulletin boards even provide an estimate of mugging risk in each
city or place of business.
Some of these travel guide bulletin boards deal essentially with
prostitution services; others provide details about other sexual com-
modities, including erotic dancing, stripping, table dancing, lap dancing,
nude showering on stage, dancers having sex with each other, being
able to inspect the genital areas of nude dancers ("some women will
give you a view of spots only her gynecologist sees," advises one bul-
letin board), and being allowed to touch or fondle the performers. Given
today's tolerant standards, the on-line travel guides to erotic establish-
ments are relatively tame.
COMPUTER BULLETIN BOARDS AND SEXUAL DEVIANCY "MENUS"
Some on-line bulletin board services make direct appeals for individuals
of more perverse appetites. A lengthy exploration of the diversity of
bulletin boards available in cyberspace reveals an amazing inventory
of sexual interests, carnal activities, and exotic enterprises. A bulletin
board can be accessed for almost any sexual appetite or persuasion. The
topiCS discussed on these boards range from erotic enemas to zoophilia
and include such singular subject matter as ritual genital mutilation,
naming the penis, semen speed at ejaculation, having sex with a tiger,
breast size versus IQ, pubic hair removal techniques, and a "pop-up"
Kama Sutra book. In fact, there have been recent postings from am-
potel1l11opiziles, or persons with an "erotic obsession or fetish for ampu-
tated limbs or digits" (Money et a!. 1977). One of these individuals had
a leg amputated some years ago and now wished to have the other leg
amputated as well (presumably for erotic reasons). This person was
seeking a medical professional to perform the procedure, and also
wished to contact others of similar desires.
It is also not uncommon to find individuals attempting to sell porno-
c+:d·oc- :0" n ... ...1 ...... h ...
_ .. _._ L! _ L ________ _ c .,.1..~_t.. ....1 ... _1 .,,..; ...1.. -I-l~,., ...... "' ...... h; .......... n ",.. ....... "'1 ...... " .... _
52 Functionalism
tices (e.g., urolinga and coprophilia), through on-line bulletin boards.
In the area of homosexual behaviof, one service lists mOre than 400 gay
and lesbian bulletin boards with highly unique names. Among the more
active are those concerned with sadism and masochism (S/M). Some
of the boards emphasize interest in sexual bondage, self-bondage, sexual
spankings, electric shocks; and so on. There seems to be considerable
personal E-mail traffic, and some of the messages involve invitations to
get together for shopping or dinner when next visiting a particular city,
suggesting a long-term network of individuals. Other messages have
referred to a "whipping demonstration" to be held in a large East Coast
city on a certain date and invited those interested to attend. The exis-
tence of elaborate S/M subcultures, complete with consciousness-raising
groups, sex clubs, specialized periodicals, and theatrical companies, has
been reported by various researchers (e.g., Weinberg and Falk 1980), but
the computer appears to expand greatly the geographical boundaries
of such subcultures, and dramatically facilitate communication among
members and behveen members and interested individuals.
Perhaps one of the most unusual of the many sexual bulletin boards
are those that concern bestiality (i.e., sexual activities with animals).
Some of the information offered on such bulletin boards is so outlandish
that one might at first assume it is an elaborate hoax, and, if not a hoax,
then perhaps the meanderings of someone's fertile fantasy life. The files
from some of the bulletin boards, however, are simply too extensive and
too detailed to represent a hoax; it is highly doubtful that someone
would go to that much trouble to perpetrate a joke! One bulletin board
did suggest that it began as a joke but soon attracted a sincere and ded-
icated following of persons with a genuine interest.) Furthermore, the in-
formation appears to grow at a rate greater than an individual's fantasy
could generate.
The information available on these bulletin boards includes question
and answer files that provide both an introduction and an orientation to
bestiality. Some provide graphics files that, according to the editor of
the service, "should tell you everything you need to know." Numerous
animal-related sex concerns are discussed. Also available are detailed
reviews of films and video tapes allegedly portraying sexual activity be-
tween humans and animals. Clearly, the market for this type of materi-
als is such that their production is justified. There is every reason to
beHeve that the bestiality subculture will grow and that the number of
persons involved will proliferate; the computer bulletin board supports
such expansion by facilitating contact and communication among per-
sons with such bizarre erotic interests, even when they are geographi-
cally separated by vast distances.
5. Keith F. Durkin and C1ifton D. Bryant 53
In fact, there 15 every reason to believe that many, if not most, of ~e
deviant sexual subcultures will expand, become more elaborate, and m-
volve more people because of the on-li~e ?ul1etin bo~rds. In the pas:,
such subcultures were most frequently hmIted to particular geograplu-
e metropolitan areas along the East or West Coasts.
caI areas, su ch as larg . . ..
th
N ow ose subcultures can readily nehvork WIth mdIVIduals across the
\ 'd' II .
· e worldwide. Even persons w 10 resI e ID sma towns m
na h on, or ev n . .' I . h imil'
the heartland can more readily contact other mdlvIdua 5 wIt ~ ar
sexual interests in their general vicinity and interact with t~em VIa com-
puter. If conditions of mutual trust can be met, meetmgs can be
arranged; and, in time, larger groupings can be formed. . .
There is the possibility that bulletin ?oard ~~er~ may be msplred by
other users to attempt convoluted erotic grati~cation through, fo~ ex-
ample, sexual asphyxia (see Lowery and v:'eth 198~) or other anti-~o­
cial or violent sexual practices. The hazard inherent m carnal scenanos
of these varieties, of course, is that they may be harmful or dangerous to
self or others, especially the youthful computer us:r.
Some of the sexual themes featured on bul1e~n boa~ds ar~ merely
the sexually exotic. Others are grotesque in their smgulanty. S~ll others
are redolent of pathology. Some crOSS the line of illegality. Most If not all,
however, would be of interest to the sexologist or the researcher of de-
viant behavior.
THE SOCIAL MEANING OF ELECTRONIC EROTICA
The emergence of computer sex can be interpreted at.va~ous [unction-
allevels. First, it may be viewed as intellectual ;sraffitt. LIke some morE
conventional varieties of graffiti, computer erotica cm: be an outlet for a
person's carnal thoughts or a manifestation of sexualIty. It can be a plea
for sexual advice (or an attempt to give it), or it .may affo:d ~ sense of
sexual self-assertion or even an expression of hostile sexuality, .Inasmuch
as graffiti blatantly violates the sodal norms that circumscnbe sexual
expression whHe avoiding external social sanction (see Bryant ~982, pp.
116-117, 129). In a similar vein, cybersex may s?~etimes fu~c~on as an
electro1lic aphrodisiac, helping to energize the lIbIdo and remvl~orate a
genuine sexual relationship that has been burdened by routme and
enn~~mputer erotica can also be concep~alized as illteractive extemal-
ized fantasy. The isolated sexual deviant WIth an unusual sexual. prefer-
ence may previously have had to rely on fanta~y ,for carn~l fulfillment.
Now such fantasies can be operationalized wlthm a SOCial context. In
 54 Functionalism
addition to simply facilitating contact with others who have similar in-
clinations, computer bulletin boards also make it easier for sexual fan-
tasies to be reinforced and fed. A passing erotic interest of perverse stripe
that might have withered previously may now be nourished by the
knowledge that other persons who harbor similar erotic desires exist
and that anonymous interaction through the computer is possible.
Furthermore, the computer would seem to serve as a catalytic or fa-
cilitating mecllallism. In the past, technolOgical change has often proved to
be the catalyst for dramatic social change, sometimes highly functional
and other times highly dysfunctional. Often, the social change has been
sufficiently widespread and has had enough social support to consti-
tute a new normative pattern-a technicway. But teclmological change
has often also been a catalyst for new forms of deviant behavior. The
computer has proved to be something of a supercatalyst for both func-
tional social change and deviant behavior. In effect, the computer
"makes it happen!"
The computer may also be viewed as a ge171lil1atioll Q/ld distribution
mechallism for sexual deviancy. It possesses the capabilities for creating,
imitating, enhancing, and extending deviant sexual behavior. The com-
puter can provide an incredibly rapid communication link -with a vast
number of people throughout the United States and the world. In this
way, the process of diffusion, including the dJffusion of criminal and
deviant practices, can be expanded and facilitated in an almost expo-
nential fashion. The Tibetan monk writes his prayers on a piece of papeJi
places the paper in his prayer wheel, and spins the wheel, thereby "mul-
tiplying" and "amplifying" his message to the gods. The computer
seems to serve much the same function, "multiplying" and "amplifying"
the deviant messages to all those who log on.
The computer operates as a social cOHsolidatioll mechanism, inasmuch
a: it can aggregate large numbers of individuals of similar sexually de-
VIant persuasion with great facility. The individual deviant can easily
identify other, similar deviants and subsequently fonn social coalitions.
In doing so, a "critical mass" of persons seeking a social context for their
deviant inclinations is achieved. The computer is also a highly effective
learning device, and the would-be deviant can readily locate expertise
and edification.
MO,st important, perhaps, the computer can be conceptualized as a
mecJwllIsm of metamorphosis, or a kind of deviant "dream machine." De-
viant sexual fantasies that might well have remained simply the dis-
torted musings of an imaginative mind may now be operationalized
and implemented. Like the genie in the bottle, the computer can trans-
fonn deviant sexual reverie into deviant reality by feeding and enriching
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 55
the individual's fantasies, aiding him or her in identifying others with
analogous sexual predilections, assisting in the coalescence of like-mind-
ed sexual deviants, and contributing to the constitution of an opportu-
nity structure for the actualization of the fantasied behavior.
THE COMPUTER, SOCIAL BEHAVIOR, AND RESEARCH
Arguably, computers have precipitated something of a revolution in the
social enterprise (Vander Zanden 1993, pp. 394-397). They have gener-
ated other new technology, automated some aspects of workplace ac-
tivities, altered the way we relate to one another, permitted vast
accumulations of data, facilitated communication, and drastically al-
tered our patterns of consumption and recreation, to mention ~ut a f~,,:,
aspects of human behavior that have been affected. Perhaps .m antio-
pation of the preceived societal benefits of computers, some wnters have
expressed "extravagant optimism and romanticism" in regard to the
growth of computer use (for example, Neustadter 1991, p. 175). Com-
puters, however, have also been used dysfunctionally to invade per-
sonal privacy, subsequently eroding confidentiality (Vander Zanden
1993, p. 396). Additionally, they have generated a variety of social prob-
lems ranging from the malfunction of military computers, almost caus-
ing accidental war, to an increased sense of social isolatio~ an~
alienation experienced by some workers (We5sells 1990, p. 2). Sooal so-
ence researchers have noted the social import of computers and have
begun to investigate a wide variety of topicS related to this import and
the resultant behavioral patterns. Such research has included, among
other things, an examination of students' E-mail (McCormick and
McCormick 1992), perceptions of computer communication partners
(Shamp 1991), communication reciprocity in computer interaction (M.i-
halo 1985), patterns of use and motivation among users of electr?nlc
bulletin boards (Rafaeli 1986), motivations for and satisfactions obtamed
from political computer bulletin boards (Garram.one e~ al. 1986), the
maintenance of individualization through the marupulation of comput-
er-mediated communication contexts (Myers 1987), participation and
group consensus in computer-mediated commu~ca~on (Kie~ler et aL
1984), and the use of computers in teen commurucahons (SmIth 1985).
The research focus in much of the social science joumalliterature on
computer behavior is on the dynamics of the communication process
itself. The body of literature on such topics is growing rapidly, and a
number of professional journals, including several in the field of com-
puter science, such as Conlputers altd SociettJ, Computers and UrbQ1J Society,
56 Functionalism
and Computers aJld People, often include articles that address computer-
influenced social behavior patterns. There are also numerous essays and
articles devoted to the topic of the magnitude of the social impact that
the computer is having on our lives and the society in which we live.
The phenomenon of computer-engendered crime and deviant be-
havior has not escaped social scientists. Pfuhl (1987), for example, has
addressed the topic of computer abuse and "hackers" and has exam-
ined existing literature in this regard. Individuals in the field of com-
puter science appear to have found the subject of somewhat more
compelling interest and have addressed a variety of related topics, in-
cluding the psychometric characteristics of computer criminals (Wat-
son-MWlIo 1986), students' attitudes toward computer crime (Coldwell
1993), software theft (Forester 1990), computer abuse in organizations
(Kling 1981), the parameters of computer crime (Coldwell 1990), and
computer crime as a career (Becker 1982).
The concern in much of the literature, however, is on deviant prac-
tices in the use of computer technology. Beyond exploring deviant com-
puter practices, the emerging literature in disciplines such as computer
science (and some business fields) appears to concentrate on the com-
puter as a tool or mechanism useful for the commission of white-collar
crime. Practices such as camouflaging embezzlement, using deceptive
billing practices, or falsifying reports, figures, and inventories are typi-
cal examples. The social parameters of computer-aided deviancy and
crime are considerably more vast, however. In this regard, some con-
figurations of computer deviancy have essentially been ignored by be-
havioral science researchers. What seems to be conspicuously lacking
are investigative efforts to document, explore, and analyze the newly
emerging socially deviant use of computers, founded on the unique ca-
pabilities, characteristics, and applications of computer communication,
especially the evolution of non-white-collar deviant and criminal be-
havioral patterns, including sexual deviancy, which may be the most
significant oversight. The mass media and popular press are providing
glimpses of the larger social dimensions of computer deviance, espe-
cially sexual deviance, but the phenomenon awaits systematic research
by sociologists and other behavioral scientists. Sexually proscribed ac-
tivities via computer cyberspace seem to constitute the newest frontier in
the field of deviant behavior.
THE PROGNOSIS FOR COMPUTER SEX RESEARCH
",het~er the con;pt~ter is simply a glorified pornography communica-
5. Keith F. Durkin and Clifton D. Bryant 57
viancy remains to be seen. Given the increasing computer precocious-
ness of many adolescents, there is genuine reason for apprehension in re-
gard to the latter. In regard to both possibilities, only the tip of the
iceberg has revealed itself thus far. There is an enormous range of op-
portunities for systematic research of computer sex. The phenomenon is
easily accessed, the participants are only a keyboard away, and those
individuals who are involved appear to be eager to communicate with
interested parties. In effect, the computer constitutes an electronic survey
research mechanism with enormous potential for innovative investiga-
tion of deviancy, although some sampling limitations need to be re-
solved. Just as the computer has begun to revolutionize social life, it
will revolutionize crime and deviancy, especially the parameters of de-
viant sexual behavior; in fact, it is doing so already. The computer may
well also revolutionize research addressing crime and deviant behav-
ior. Regardless of the outcome, however, the computer is today's Pan-
dora's Box, and the lid is already open.
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 60 Functionalism
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NOTES
1. All sorts of technological inventions and procedures have had a heavy im-
pact on sOciety. The steam engine, the cotton gin, the telegraph, the tele-
phone, the automobile, the airplane, the still and movie cameras, radio,
television, and the computer have all drastically altered the nature of 50-
ciallife. Even simple inventions such as the safety pin, the paper dip, the
aerosol spray can, and the safety razor have brought about significant
changes in cultural patterns and social behavior. Various behavioral scien-
tists have spoken to the question of technology and social change. William
F. Ogburn (1964), for example, advanced the notion of clIltllrallag by sug-
gesting that nonmaterial culture change occurS more slowly than material
culture change. In effect, technolOgical change invites adaptation, but the
subsequent social change may be slow in occurring.
2. Howard W. Odum (1937) also addressed social change and pointed out
that, where new technology is accepted, the response or adaptation to the
innovation or new technological process takes the form of tecJlIlicways, or
normative behavior patterns. A technicway encompasses more than mere-
ly the socially habituated use of a particular technique or tool, however.
For Odum, the concept also referred to a more generalized value system
stance or ideological posture as an adaptive response to certain technolo-
gy and innovation. The cause and effect linkages may be somewhat more
convoluted than simple innovation-produdng behavioral response. For
example, after King Gillette invented the safety razor, home shaving for
men became a national grooming pattern. Beyond this, however, social
values shifted to the point that the bearded male face was considered ob-
jectionable, if not uncouth, certainly among "gentlemen" (at least until the
19605). In his discussion of Od urn's concept, Bryant (1984) suggested that
technicways do not always occur as a single swell of normative adaptive
response to new technology. but rather, in some instances, the social re-
sponse may occur in a chain-reaction fashion, assuming the form of sec-
olldary or even tertian; technicways as well as priman;. The availability of
the husband's safety razor in the home led to the grooming pattern of
women shaving their legs (a secondary technicway), and, in time, the
<:1,"'''''''"1 I"' ...." 1",./ ~,,~L._ £ __ 1..: __ _ l _1. _ .. ' .
5, Keith F. Durkin and Cliftan D. Bryant 61
Further reflection on the ripple effect of social adaptation to innovation
and new technological processes seems to indicate tha~ tedmi.cways may
often mutate, as it were, in an aberrant fashion, beconung d~vtnllt t~ch­
nicways. Such seems to have been the case with numerous InnovatIOns,
including the computer.
3. The maker of an obscene phone call, relying on anonymity, can telephone
a victim and utter obscenities or sexually explicit suggestions, or simply
breathe heavily into the receiver, in a real or simulated lustful fashion and
derive vicarious carnal gratification in the process (Nadler 1968, pp.
521-526; Mead 1975, pp. 127-126; Matek 1966, pp. 113-130). .
4. Other, more elaborative variations on telephone-related sexual devlancy
include the telephone masturbator (Brockopp and Lester 1969, pp. 10-13;
Lester 1973, pp. 257-260). The male deviant calls a female (?ften a coun-
selor at an open-line crisis therapy agency) and, se:xually shmu~ated by
the sound of the female therapiSt's voice, engages m masturbation. The
telephone masturbator uses the conversation with.the ur:lmown female as
the basis for sexual fantasy and vicarious carnal stimulatIOn. He can em-
bellish the sexual drama with his own imaginative ability and masturbate
as a constituent part of the fantasy, with complete anonymity, thanks to
the teclmology of the telephone. .
5. For those of less imaginative bent, the telephone has enabled the offermg
of "dirty" stories, obscene language, and salacious conv~r~ation ~rom a fe-
male as part of a commercial service. Alleged to have orIgmated m Jap~n
(Parade 1976, p. 20), the so-called "dial-a-pom" ~ervices ~a:e become bIg
business in the United States. The individual With a lasavIOUS aural ap-
petite can dial an advertised telephone number and be carnally enter-
tained, either by a conversation with a paid female performer, or by
listening to a prerecorded message (see Boma, Chapman, and Menezes
1993' Glascock and LaRose 1993). In either instance, the caller hears sexu-
any ~xplicit talk or sounds and is billed for the time .on the line, on his or
her monthly telephone bill (U.S. Department of JustIce 1986, pp.
1428-1436). (Although primarily used by males, women do use these ser-
vices.) .. .
6. Both a computer and a modem (a lelecommumcatJonal deVICe f.or com-
puters) are a prerequisite for gaining aCcess to tj~ese sexually.onentat;d.
bulletin boards. To access these services, users dial the bulletm board s m-
bound phone number. Some of these numbers may be obtained from ad-
vertisements in computer or pornographic magazines, others by
word-of-mouth. Moreover, once one bulletin board is accessed, informa-
tion about other boards can readily be obtained from that service. When
people initially call one of these bulletin boards, they ty~ica~ly have to
complete a registration process. Users normally have to mdIcate that they
are older than 18 or 21, and that they are not an employee of any law en-
forcement agency. Also, users normally h~ve to pay a r~gistration fee. Al-
though this payment may be made by maIl, man~ serVlCes ~llow users to
make the payment on line by credit card. After thIS process:s complete,
62 Functionalism

One notable exception to the aforementioned procedures is USENET.

USENET is an international noncommercial information network used by
persons at academic institutions, research facilities, and major corpora-
tions. This network is made possible by more than 1,600 mainframe com-
CHAPTER 11
puters that act as data transfer stations (Horvitz 1989). Access is free to
persons at sponsoring sites. It is estimated that well over 500,000 people
have access to USENET (Horvitz 1989). Information on this network is
categorized into newsgroups, each of which provides postings on one or
Social Disorganization
more of a multitude of topics. There are hundreds of newsgroups, a few of
which are dedicated to topics of a prurient nature. For example, there are
newsgroups dedicated to bestiality, sadomasochism, masturbation, and
pornographic movies. Several news groups contain personal ads from a
multitude of sexual deviants, such as, for example, sadomasochists and
swingers.

Around the turn of the nineteenth century, two major events took place
in the development of the sociology of deviance. The first was the cre-
ation in 1892, at the University of Chicago, of the first sociology depart-
ment in the United States. The faculty of this department freed
themselves from the moral focus that had characterized earlier expla-
nations of deviance and created a new, distinctly American social sci-
ence. The second development was the emergence of the Chicago School
of theorists in the early part of the hventieth century. The work of these
sociologists provided coherence to theory, research, and the develop-
ment of a substantial body of knowledge that came to influence nu-
merous other theoretical developments and research paradigms within
the field of sociology in general and the study of deviance in particular.
One of the distinctive features of the Chicago School was its atten-
tiveness to documenting various aspects of social life in its immediate
geographical environment, the city of Chicago. Borrowing somewhat
loosely from biology, the Chicagoans developed an ecological model of
urban life and used it to study extensively the growth of the city, the
various social territories in it, the lifestyle of its inhabitants, and the ef-
fects of social change on organization, disorganization, and reorganiza-
tion within the city. The ecological perspective offered a framework
within which these sociologists could study the social order of the city in
terms of selection, competition, change, cooperation, and symbiosis.
They concluded that these natural processes were affecting and dis-
rupting the mechanisms of social control, with the result that social dis~
organization and deviance were increasing.
Tills social disorganization theory concentrated on the political, eco-
nomic, and social changes that were sweeping the country at the time,
 64 Social Disorganization
lems of the heterogeneous, rapidly changing nature of the society of the
United States, in contrast to the established European orientation of the
functionalists. While the changes themselves were generally viewed as
progressive, their concurrent effects, such as increases in the rates of
crime, delinquency, suicide, and mental illness, were seen as negative. A
noticeable wea1<ening in the organization of social life seemed to follow
from the rapid increases in industrialization, urbanization, immigra-
tion, and internal migration.
Social disorganization theorists hypothesized a relationship between
this increasing social complexity and higher rates of deviance, particu-
larly in the large urban areas of America. They took note of the apparent
predominance of deviance in certain city areas or zones that were char-
acterized by numerous large immigrant groups, extreme poverty, tran-
sient residents, deteriorated housing, and a general lack of stable
communily institutions. On the assumption that such factors contribute
to instability, an absence of close interpersonal relationships, and a
breakdown in effective social control of behavior, they concluded that
these zones could be expected to be disproportionately characterized
by social disorganization. In the cities they studied, the social disorder of
the central city areas appeared to possess distinct characteristics that
created the conditions conducive to continuously high rates of deviance,
irrespective of the composition of the populations residing in them.
Like the functionalists, disorganization theorists accepted the basic
proposition that a society is a complex whole whose parts (Le., institu-
tions, associations) are interdependent and maintain some sort of equi-
librium. Their writings emphasize the harmony that can unify a society;
normally, people are presumed to agree with one another about values
and norms, so high degrees of behavioral regularity and social organi-
zation can be expected. Put another way, social organization (social
order) exists when behavioral regularity and internal cohesion bind the
individuals and institutions in a society closely together. This cohesion
consists largely of a consensus about goals worth striving for (values)
and how or how not to behave (norms). When consensus concerning
values and norms is upset and traditional rules no longer appear to
apply, conflict, social disorganization, and the volume of deviance are all
apt to increase.
The first reading in this chapter (Reading 6) is from The Polish Peas-
ant in Europe and America, by W. 1. Thomas and FIorian Znaniecki. These
authors stress that social disorganization develops whenever a society or
social group is exposed to new ideas and customs that are not effec-
tively incorporated into the "host" social order. They view disorgani-
zation as common to all societies in periods of rapid change and
Social Disorganization 65
especially when massive immigration occurs, as it did in the United
States during the early part of this century.
Thomas and Znaniecki attempt to explain the processes that led to
the erosion of primary (face-to-face) relationships within both immi-
grant groups and the society to which these groups were emigrating.
They define social disorganization in terms of the decreasing effective-
ness of existing social rules in controlling the behavior of individuals. In
a group or a society whose composition is quickly changing, the mem-
bers often develop new attitudes that free them to engage in activities
that do not comply with the established rules, and this weakens the so-
cial order. For Thomas and Znaniecki, then, it is during periods of so-
ciocultural change that social disorganization is apt to be most
widespread and intense.
Robert Park maintains in Reading 7 that as a society becomes more
heterogeneous, primary relationships are subject to strain, which in turn
leads to a decrease in traditio.Qal social control mechanisms. This reading
is a section from The CitJj, by Park, Ernest W. Burgess, and Roderick D.
McKenzie, that was authored by Park in 1925. At that time, rapid social
change was taking place due to urbanization, industrialization, and mo-
bility of the population. According to Park, the change accompanying
the movement from village communities to cities was disrupting routine
ways of living and traditional methods of regulating behavior, resulting
in social disorganization.
Reading 8, by Robert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham, also deals
with the effects of social change on social order in urban areas. This ex-
cerpt from their book Mental Disorders in Urban Areas is concerned with
how the degree of social disorganization was related to the amount and
types of deviant behavior found in various sections of Chicago during
the 19205 and 19305. Each area of the city was analyzed on the basis of a
number of indicators to measure the extent of its social disorganization.
Faris and Dunham reported that mental disorders (especially schizo-
phrenia), like many other types of deviance, were comparatively more
prevalent in highly disorganized areas of the city.
C. Wright Mills criticizes the assumptions he sees as inherent in the
writings of social disorganization theorists in Reading 9, the Analysis
and Critique section for this chapter. Mills notes that what he calls the
"social pathologists" share an essentially similar view of deviant be-
havior that reflects their relatively homogeneous middle-class, rural
backgrounds. The orientation of these theorists toward deviance. also
was shaped by an ideology that places the blame on individuals for
their transgressions from generally accepted societa! norms. Thus, in
Mills's view, the social pathologists see individual deviance as peculiar
 66 Social Disorganization
behavior attributable to inadequate sacialization, rather than a phe-
nomenon inextricably bound to the social structure of American soci-
ety. By accepting and legitimizing the status quo, these writers ignore a
broader theoretical framework that would include social, historical, and
political forces in an analysis of deviance. Furthermore, by denigrating
the individual deviant, the social pathologists fail to take into account
the roles played by special-interest and power groups in the formulation
of definitions of deviance and the application of sanctions with refer-
ence to who and what is deviant.
Mills's focus on the reliance on middle-class norms in disorganiza-
tion theory has been the basis for three pertinent criticisms of this theo-
ry. One is the attempt of disorganization theorists to explain deviance in
the lower class to the virtual exclusion of the middle and upper classes.
The lower class was assumed to have higher rates of deviance because
its members were located in the most disorganized areas of the city.
Thus, by circular reasoning, the lower class was most deviant because it
was the most disorganized, and it was, at the same time, the most dis-
organized because it contained the most deviants. Another criticism of
the theory concerns its emphasis on "official" statistics of pathological
behavior. In relying almost exclusively on official rates of deviance-for
example, admissions to mental hospitals, criminal justice agency data on
crime and delinquency, and so on-disorganization theorists overlooked
the fact that these data might actually be a reflection of factors related to
social control or social class practices (see Chapters V and VII), rather
than ecolOgical processes. The third criticism is that disorganization the-
orists appear to have been biased in favor of prevailing middle-class
values and norms in their production of a consensus model of society
wherein disorganization is viewed as dysfunctional. Any divergence
from these orientations was viewed as dysfunctional and upsetting to
the established harmony in society. Little attention was paid to the fact
that social change, while it may disrupt the existing conseruus, may at
the same time increase social solidarity. That is, all social change does not
necessarily lead to social disorganization.
Reading 10, by Esbensen and Huizinga in the Contemporary Ap-
plication section of this chapter, is an example of research that attempts
to respond to some of the criticisms leveled against social disorganiza-
tion theory. In so doing, the authors examine major propositions of dis-
organization theory and indicate ways in which it may also serve as a
bridge to differential association theory, which is coruidered in Chapter
IV. The authors point out that recent research influenced by social dis-
organization theory indicates that neighborhoods can be differentiated
based upon land use, socioeconomic factors, demographic characteris-
6. W. I. Thomas and Florian Znaniecki 67
tics, and subcultural variables. In this sense, communities are not ho-
mogeneous entities influencing the behavior of their inhabitants in a
similar fashion, resulting in high rates of specific forms of deviance.
Rather, rates of deviance are influenced by both the variability of dom-
inant structural characteristics of the neighborhood and the influence
of mediating subcultural factors betvveen social disorganization and be-
havior. ill an examination of these assumptions, Esbensen and Huizinga
focus on three issues. First, are the factors characteristic of social disor-
ganization (e.g., high rates of family instability, poverty, transiency, den-
sity) uniformly present in all socially disorganized communities?
Second, do these structural factors influence drug use in the same way
in which crime and delinquency is influenced? Third, what effects do
micro-level factors (e.g., subcultural values) have on the decision to use
drugs?
The results of Esbensen and Huizinga's research support the view
that ecological factors are predictive of social disorganization, although
not in a unilinear fashion. In other words, socially disorganized areas are
not homogenous. They are each affected by different clusters of struc-
tural variables that alone do not necessarily explain the reasons why
people may deviate (in this case, drug use) or the form that it takes.
Thus, while the data support the view that structural factors leading to
social disorganization may be important in explaining why the rates of
deviance may be higher in socially disorganized areas, they do not fully
explain why everyone exposed to these factors does not deviate. To do
so requires that research in this area examine the importance of indi-
vidual-level variables that influence interaction and resulting behavior.
As Esbensen and Huizinga note, "Different types of community struc-
tures may foster different interactional patterns and the subsequent cre-
ation of different learning environments." It is in this sense that research
should focus on the relationship between ecological and mediating fac-
tors leading to deviance in differentially disorganized areas.
(; The Concept of Social Disorganization
W. I. THOMAS and FLORIAN ZNANIECKI
The concept of social disorganization as we shall use it ... refers pri-
marily to institutions and only secondarily to men. Just as group-
organization embodied in socially systematized schemes of behavior
Reprinted by permission from TIll! Polisll PCIISllllt ill Europe lIJ1d AlllericlI, by W. l. Thomas
and Florian Znaniecki, Vo!. IV (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1918).
 68 Social Disorganization
imposed as rules upon individuals never exactly coincides with indi-
vidual life-organization consisting in personally systematized schemes
of behavior, so social disorganization never exactly corresponds to in-
dividual disorganization. Even if we imagined a group lacking all in-
ternal differentiation, i.e., a group in which every member would accept
all the sOcially sanctioned and none but the socially sanctioned rules of
behavior as schemes of his own conduct, still every member would
systematize these schemes differently in his personal evolution, would
make a different life-organization out of them, because neither rus tem-
perament nor his life-history would be exactly the same as those of
other members. As a matter of fact, such a uniform group is a pure fic-
tion; even in the least differentiated groups we find socially sanctioned
rules of behavior which explicitly apply only to certain classes of indi-
viduals and are not supposed to be used by others in organizing their
conduct, and we find individuals who in organizing their conduct use
some personal schemes of their own invention besides the traditional-
ly sanctioned social rules. Moreover, the progress of social differentia-
tion is accompanied by a growth of special institutions, consisting
essentially in a systematic organization of a certain number of socially
selected schemes for the permanent achievement of certain results. This
institutional organization and the life-organization of any of the indi-
viduals tluough whose activity the institution is socially realized part-
ly overlap, but one individual cannot fully realize in his life the whole
systematic organization of the institution since the latter always im-
plies the collaboration of man)" and on the other hand each individual
has many interests which have to be organized outside of trus particu-
lar institution.
These points must be kept in mind if we are to understand the ques-
tion of socia~ disorganization. We can define the latter briefly as a de-
crease of the mfluellce of existing social rules of behavior ttpOll i1ldividual
members of the group. This decrease may present innumerable degrees,
ranging from a single break of some particular rule by one individual up
to a general decay of all the institutions of the group. Now, social disor-
ganization in this sense has no unequivocal connection whatever with
individual disorganization, which consists in a decrease of the individ-
ual's ability to organize his whole life for the efficient, progressive and
continuous realization of his fundamental interests. An individual who
brea~s some or e.ven most of the social rules prevailing in his group
may mdeed do tlus because he is losing the minimum capacity of life-or-
ganization required by social conformism; but he may also reject the
6. W. I. Thom<ls and Florian Znaniecki 69
schemes of behavior imposed by his milieu because they hinder him in
reaching a more efficient and more comprehensive life-organization. On
the other hand also, the sodal organization of a group may be very per-
manent and strong in the sense that no opposition is manifested to the
existing rules and institutions; and yet, this lack of opposition may be
simply the result of the narrowness of the interests of the group-mem-
bers and may be accompanied by a very rudimentary, mechanical and
inefficient life-organization of eadl member individually. Of course, a
strong group organization may be also the product of a conscious moral
effort of its members and thus correspond to a very high degree of life-
organization of each of them individually. It is therefore impossible to
conclude from social as to individual organization or disorganization, or
vice versa. In other words, sodal organization is not coextensive with in-
dividual morality,. nor does social disorganization correspond to indi-
vidual demoralization.
Social disorganization is not an exceptional phenomenon limited to
certain periods or certain sodeties; some of it is found always and every-
where, since always and everywhere there are individual cases of break-
ing social rules, cases which exercise some disorganizing influence on
group institutions and, if not counteracted, are apt to multiply and to
lead to a complete decay of the latter. But during periods of social sta-
bility this continuous incipient disorganization is continuously neutral-
ized by such activilies of the group as reinforce with the help of social
sanctions the power of existing rules. The stability of group institutions
is thus simply a dynamic equilibrium of processes of disorganization
and reorgallizatioJ1. This equilibrium is disturbed when processes of dis-
organization can no longer be checked by any attempts to reinforce the
existing rules. A period of prevalent disorganization follows, which may
lead to a complete dissolution of the group. More usually, however, it is
counteracted and stopped before it reaches this limit by a new process of
reorganization whidl in this case does not consist in a mere reinforce-
ment of the decaying organization, but in a production of new schemes
of behavior and new institutions better adapted to the changed demands
of the group; we call this production of new schemes and institutions so-
cial reconstruction. Social reconstruction is possible only because and in so
far as, during the period of social disorganization a part at least of the
members of the group have not become individually disorganized, but,
on the contrary, have been working toward a new and more efficient
personal life-organization and have expressed a part at least of the con-
structive tendencies implied in their individual activities in an effort to
produce new social institutions.
 70 Social Disorganization
~~ long as we are concerned with disorganization alone, leaving
provlslOnall~ aside the following process of reconstruction, the phe-
no~enon w~ch we want to explain is evidently the appearance of such
attitudes as llTIpair the efficiency of existing rules of behavior and thus
lead to t~e. decay of. soc~al institutions. Every social rule is the expression
of a defimte combination of certain attitudes; if instead of these atti-
tudes some others appear, the influence of the rule is disturbed. There
may be thus several different ways in which a rule can lose its effiden-
~I and still more numerous ways in which an institution, which always
mvolves several regulating schemes, can fall into decay. The causal ex-
planation of any particular case of social disorganization demands thus
that we find, ~rst of all, w~at are the particular attitudes whose ap-
pe~ance mamfests Itself SOCially in the loss of influence of the existing
socIal rules, and then try to determine the causes of these attitudes. Our
tendenc~ should ~e, or course, to analyze the apparent diversity and
complexIty of particular sodal processes into a limited number of more
or less general causal facts, and this tendency can be realized in the
~tu~y of disorganization if we find that the decay of differellt rules exist-
Ing In a given society is the objective manifestation of similar attitudes
t~at, in o.the~ words, many given, apparently different phenomena of
dIsorgaruzation can be causally explained in the same way. We cannot
reach any laws of social disorganization, i.e., we cannot find causes
which always and everywhere produce social disorganization; we can
only hope .to determine laws of sOcio-psychological becoming, i.e., find
causes which always and everywhere produce certain definite attitudes
and tl:ese causes will explain also social disorganization in all thos~
cases m which it will be fo~d that the attitudes produced by them are
the real ?ac~gr?un~ of socIal disorganization, that the decay of given
rules or Institutions IS merely the objective, superficial manifestation of
the appearance of these attitudes. Our task is the same as that of the
physicist or chemist who does not attempt to find laws of the multi-
fo~ changes which happen in the sensual appearance of our material
envrronment, ~t searches for laws of the more fundamental and general
processes whIch a.re supposed to underlie those directly observable
changes, and explams the latter causally only in so far as it can be shown
that .they are the superficial manifestations of certain deeper, causally
explicable effects.
7. Robert E. Park 71
7 Social Change and Social Disorganization
ROBERT E. PARK
In the family and in the neighborhood such organization as exists is
based upon custom and tradition, and is fixed in what Sumner calls the
folkways and the mores. At this stage, society is a purely natural prod-
uct; a product of the spontaneous and unreflective responses of indi-
viduals living together in intimate, personal, and face-to-face relations.
Under such circumstances conscious efforts to discipline the individual
and enforce the social code are directed merely by intuition and common
sense.
In the larger social unit, the community, where social relations are
more formal and less intimate, the situation is different. It is in the com-
munity, rather than in the family or the neighborhood, that formal or-
ganizations like the church, the school, and the courts come into
existence and get their separate functions defined. With the advent of
these institutions, and through their mediation, the community is able to
supplement, and to some extent supplant, the family and the neighbor-
hood as a means for the discipline and control of the individuaL How-
ever, neither the orphan asylum nor any other agency has thus far
succeeded in providing a wholly satisfactory substitute for the home.
The evidence of tlns is that they have no alumni association. They create
no memories and traditions that those who graduate from them are dis-
posed to cherish and keep alive.
It is in this community with its various organizations and its ratio-
nat rather than traditional, schemes of control, and not elsewhere, that
we have delinquency. Delinquency is, in fact, in some sense the mea-
sure of the failure of our community organizations to function.
Historically, the background of American life has been the village
community. Until a few years ago the typical American was, and per-
haps still is, an inhabitant of a middle western village; such a village,
perhaps, as Sin clair Lewis describes in Main Street. And still, today, the
most characteristic trait of Homo Americanus is an inveterate individu-
alism which may, to be sure, have been temperamentat but in that case
temperament has certainly been considerably reinforced by the condi-
tions oflife on the frontier.
But with the growth of great cities, with the vast division of labor
which has come in with machine industry, and with movement and
change that have come about with the multiplication of the means of
Reprinted from Robert E. Park, Ernest W. Burgess, i1nd Ruderick D. Mc[(enzie, The Clly
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925), pp. 105-1lD. Copyright © 1967 by the Uni-
__ •••.. . r .... ! ·
 72 Social Disorganization
transportation and communication, the old fonns of social control rep-
resented by the family, the neighborhood, and the local community have
been undermined and their influence greatly diminished.
This process by which the authority and influence of an earlier cul-
ture and system of social control is undermined and eventually de-
s treyed is described by Thomas-looking at it from the side of the
individual-as a process of "individualization." But looking at it from
the point of view of society and the community it is social disorganiza-
tion.
We are living in such a period of individualization and social dis-
organization. Everything is in a state of agitation-everything seems to
be undergoing a change. Society is, apparently, not much more than a
congeries and constellation of social atoms. Habits can be formed only in
a relatively stable environment, even if that stability consists merely-as,
in fact, it invariably does, since there is nothing in the universe that is ab-
solutely static-in a relatively constant form of change. Any form of
change that brings any measurable alteration in the routine of social life
tends to break up habits; and in breaking up the habits upon which the
existing social organization rests, destroys that organization itself. Every
new device that affects social life and the social routine is to that extent
a disorganizing influence. Every new discovery, every new invention,
every new idea, is disturbing. Even news has become at times so dan-
gerous that governments have felt it wise to suppress its publication.
It is probable that the most deadly and the most demoralizing single
instrumentality of present-day civilization is the automobile. The auto-
mobile bandit, operating in our great cities, is much more successful
and more dangerous than the romantic stage robber of fifty years ago.
The connection of the automobile with vice is notorious. liThe automo-
bile is connected with more seductions than happen otherwise in cities
altogether."l
The newspaper and the motion picture show, while not so deadly,
are almost as demoralizing. If I were to attempt to enumerate all the so-
dal forces that have contributed to the disorganization of modern soci-
ety I should probably be compelled to make a catalogue of everything
that has introduced any new and striking change into the otherwise dull
routine of our daily life. Apparently anything that makes life interesting
is dangerous to the existing order.
The mere movement of the popUlation from one part of the country
to another-the present migration of the Negroes northward, for exam-
ple-is a disturbing influence. Such a movement may assume, from the
point of view of the migrants themselves, the character of an emanci-
pation, opening to them new economic and cultural opportunities, but
it is none the less disoI2:anizinQ" to the communinf's thpv h;:JVP jpft hphinrl
7. Robert E. Park 73
and to the communities into which they are now moving. It is at the
same time demoralizing to the migrating people themselves, and par-
ticularly, I might add, to the younger generation.
The enormous amount of delinquency, juvenile and adult, that exists
today in the Negro communities in northern cities is due in part, though
not entirely, to the fact that migrants are not able to accommodate them-
selves at once to a new and relatively strange environment. The same
thing may be said of the immigrants from Europe, or of the younger
generation of women who are just now entering in such large numbers
into the newer occupations and the freer life which the great cities offer
them.
"Progress," as I once heard William James remark, "is a terrible
thing." It is a terrible thing in so far as it breaks up the routine upon
which an existing social order rests, and thus destroys the cultural and
the economic values, i.e., the habits of thrift, of skill, of industry, as well
as the personal hopes, ambitions, and life-programs which are the con-
tent of that social order.
Our great cities, as those who have studied them have learned, are
full of junk, much of it human, Le., men and women who, for some rea-
son or other, have fallen out of line in the march of industrial progress
and have been scrapped by the industrial organization of which they
were once a part.
A recent study by Nels Anderson of what he calls "Hobohemia,"
an area in Chicago just outside the "Loop," that is to say, the dovmtovm
business area, which is almost wholly inhabited by homeless men, is a
study of such a human junk heap. In fact, the slum areas that invari-
ably grow up just on the edge of the business areas of great cities, areas
of deteriorated houses, of poverty, vice, and crime, are areas of social
junk.
I might add, because of its immediate connection with the prob-
lems and interests of this association, that recent studies made in Chica-
go of boys' gangs seem to show that there are no playgrounds in the
city in which a boy can find so much advenrure, no place where he can
find so much that may be called "real sport, as in these areas of gener-
/I
al deterioration which we call the slums.
In order to meet and deal with the problems that have been created
by the rapid changes of modem life, new organizations and agencies
have sprung into existence. The older social agencies, the church, the
school, and the courts, have not always been able to meet the problems
which new conditions of life have created. The school, the church, and
the courts have come down to us with their aims and methods defined
under the influence of an older tradition. New agencies have been nec-
f>ssarv to meet the new conditions. Among these new agencies are the ju-
 74 Social Disorganization
venile courts, juvenile protective associations, parent~l:eachers' associa-
tions, Boy Scouts, Young Men's Christian Associations settlements~ boys'
clubs of various sorts? and I presume, playgrounds and playground as-
sociations. These agencies have taken over to some extent the work
which neither the home, the neighborhood, nor the other older com-
munal institutions were able to carry on adequately.
These new institutions, perhaps because they are not to the same
extent hampered by our earlier traditions, are frankly experimental and
are trying to work out a rational technique for dealing with social prob-
lems, bas'ed not on sentiment and tradition, but on science.
Largely on the basis of the experiments which these new agencies
are making, a new social science is coming into existence. Under the
impetus which the social agencies have given to social investigation and
social research, sociology is ceasing to be a mere philosophy and is as-
suming more and more the character of an empirical, if not an exact,
science.
As to the present condition of our science and of the devices that
we have invented for controlling conduct and social Hfe, I can only re-
peat what I said at the very outset of our paper: "The thing of which
we still know least is the business of carrying on an associated exis-
tence."
NOTE
1. W, L Thomas, The UlllldjJ!sted Girl-with Cases nnd StaTldpoilli fDr Befwvior
Analysis, Criminal Science Monograph No. 4, Boston, 1923, p. 71.
8 Natura! Areas of the City
ROBERT E. L. FARIS and H. WARREN DUNHAM
A relationship between urbanism and social disorganization has long
been recognized and demonstrated, Crude rural-urban comparisons of
rates of dependency, crime, divorce and desertion, suicide, and vice
have shown these problems to be more severe in the cties. especially the
large rapidly expanding industrial cities. But as the study of urban so-
ciology advanced/ even more striking comparisons between the different
sections of a city were discovered, Some parts were found to be as stable
and peaceful as any well-organized rural neighborhood while other
Reprinted from Roberl E. L. Farls and H, Wilrren Dunham, Mental Disordcrs jn Ur!1[lJl
Areas (Chicago; University of Chicilgo Press. 1965), pp. 1-10, 19-21. By permission of
Vera S. Dunham.
j
parts were found ,to ~e in. the e~treme stage~ of social dis?rganization.
Extreme disorgaruzalIon IS confined to certam areas and IS not charac-
teristic of all sections of the city.
Out of the interaction of social and economic forces that cause city j
growth a pattern is formed in these large expanding American cities
which is the same for all the cities with local variations die to topo-
J
graphical and other differences. This pattern is not planned or intended,
and to a certain extent resists control by planning. The understanding of j
this order is necessary to the understanding of the social disorganization
that characterizes urban life,
j
THE NATURAL AREAS DEPICTED AS CIRCULAR ZONES
The most striking characteristics of this urban pattern as described by
1
Professor Burgess,l may be represented by a system of concentric zones J
j
shown in Chart 8.1. Zone I, at the center, is the central business district.
The space is occupied by stores, business offices, places of amusement,
light industry, and other business establishments. There are few resi-
dents in this area, except for transients inhabiting the large hotels, and
j
the homeless men of the "hobohemia" section which is usually located
on the fringe of the business district.
Zone I1 is called the zone in transition, This designation refers to
the fact that the expanding industrial region encroaches on the inner
j
edge, Land values are high because of the expectation of sale for indus~
trial purposes, and since residential buildings are not expected to occu-
py the land permanently, they are not kept in an improved state.
Therefore, residential buildings arE in a deteriorated state and rents are
j
low. These slums are inhabited largely by unskilled laborers and their
families. An the settlements of foreign populations as wen as the room-
ing-house areas ate located in this zone,
Zone Ill, the zone of workingmen's homes, is inhabited by a some-
j
what more stable population with a higher percentage of skilled labor-
ers and fewer foreign-born und unskilled. It is intermediate in many
respects betvveen the slum areas and the residential areas. In it is locat-
ed the "Deutsch1ands," or second immigrant settlement colollies, rep-
j
resenting the second generation of those families who have migrated
from Zone I1.
Zones N and V, the apartment-house and commuters' zones, are
in11abited principally by upper-middle-class families. A high percent-
j
age own their homes and reside for long petiods at the same address. In
these areas stability is the rule and social disorganization exceptional
nr ;lho:::ont
j
j
 76 Social Disorganization 8. Robert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham 77

The characteristics of the populations in these zones appear to be

CHART 8.1 NATURAL AREAS AND URBAN ZDNES
produced by the nature of the ~if~ within the zones rather t~an the n~­
verse. This is shown by the strIking fact that the zones retam all theIr

URBANAREAS
characteristics as different populations flow through them. The large
part of the population migration into the city. con5is~?f the influx of un-
skilled labor into the second zone, the zone ID transItion. These new ar-
rivals displace the populations already there, forcing them to move
farther out into the next zone. In general, the flow of population in the
city is of this character, from the inner zones toward the outer ones. Each
zone, however, retains its characteristics whether its inhabitants be na-
,, tive-born white, foreign-born, or Negro. Also each racial or national
,, group changes its character as it moves from one zone to the next.
, Within this system of zones, there is further sifting and sorting of
--- , economic and social institutions and of populations. In the competition
,
, for land values at the center of the city, each type of business finds the
" ,,
,, ,, place in which it can survive. The finding of the place is not infrequent-
, , ly by trial and error, those locating the wrong place failing. There emerge
...... , •' , from this competition financial sections, retail department store sections,
theater sections, sections for physicians' and dentists' offices, for spe-
cialized shops, for light industry, for warehouses, etc.
Similarly, there are specialized regions for homeless men, for room-
ing-houses, for apartment hotels, and for single homes. The location of
each of these is determined ecologically and the characteristics also re-
sult from the interaction of unplanned forces. They maintain their char-
• 1l!: •

,,
, ,I
: RESIDENTIAL:
ZONE
. ,
acteristics in spite of the flow of various racial and national groups
through them and invariably impress their effects on each of these
groups. These have been called "natural areas" by Professor Park? be-
cause they result from the interactions of natural forces and are not the
,,
,
,,,• result of human intentions.
, Fortunately, the city of Chicago has been studied somewhat more in-
/1l tensively than most cities of its size. Certain of these areas are significant
"~(.oMM1J1E R in relation to social disorganization. It is possible to define and describe
,;;,," ZOHE
these areas with certain kinds of objective data. The major divisions of
.' the city can be seen in Map 8.1. Extending outward from the central
business district are the principal industrial and railroad properties. The
rooming-house sections extend along three arms radiating from the cen-
ter to the north, west, and south. The slum areas are roughly defined
by the regions containing over 50 per cent foreign-born and native-born
of foreign parentage and over 50 per cent Negro. Beyond these areas is
the residential section. In the Lake Calumet section at the southeastern
corner of the city lS another industrial region inhabited by a forcign-
From R. E. Park and E. W. Burgess, 17le City (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1925).
born population.
 78 Social Disorganization

Too small to be shown on this map are the areas of homeless men-
MAP 8.1 TYPES OF CULTURAL AND ECONOM1C AREAS the "hobohemia" areas. 3 These are located on three main radial streets
and are just outside the central business district. Their inhabitants are the
most unstable in the city. The mobility and anonymity of their existence
produces a lack of sociability and in many cases deterioration of the
personality. Although spending their time in the most crowded parts of
the city, these homeless men are actually extremely isolated. For the
most part they represent persons unable to obtain an economic foothold
in society, and so they maintain themselves by occasionallabor, by petty
tl1ievery, by begging, and by receiving charity. As they have no oppor-
tunity for normal married life, Uleir sexual activities are limited to rela-
tions with the lowest type of prostitutes and to homosexuals. The rate of
venereal infection is high among these men. Chronic alcoholism is also
Cl common characteristic of the members of this group. Their lives are
without goal or plan, and they drift aimlessly and alone, always farther
from the conventional and normal ways of living.
Another area of importance is the rooming-house area. This is usu-
ally located along main arteries of transportation and a little farther
from the center of the city. In Chicago there are several rooming-house
sections, the three largest consisting of arms radiating to the north, west,
and south, just beyond the hobohemia areas, each extending for some-
thing over two miles in length and from a half-rni1e to over a mile in
width. The populations of these areas are principally young, unmarried
white-coUar workers, who are employed in the central business district
during the day and live in low-priced rented rooms within walking dis-
tance or a short ride from their work. 4 Within the area the population is
constantly shifting, turning over entirely about once each four months.
Anonymity and isolation also characterize the social relations in this
areai no one knows his neighbors and no one cares what they might
think or say. Consequently the social control of primary group relations
LEGEND is absent, and the result is a breakdown of standards of personal be-
havior and a drifting into unconventionality and into dissipations and
o Rantals Qval S60
Per Month or Over
50% Homas Owned
excesses of various sorts. The rates of venereal diseases and of alco-
holism are high in this area, and the suicide rate is higher than for any
~ Rooming House Area
other area of the city.s
o Over 50% Foreign While Slock
(except Garman and SWlldLshj
The foreign-born slum areas occupy a large zone surroWlding the
central business and industrial area. Within this zone there are a number
~ Over 50% Negro
of segregated ethnic communities, such as the Italian, Polish, Jewish,
III Major Railroad and
IndU5\nal Properly
Russian, and Mexican districts. The newly arrived immigrants of any
nationality settle in these communities with their feHow-countrymen.
In these groups the language, customs, and many institutions of their
Adilpled fmm Rabert E. L. Faris and H. Warren Dunham, Menilll Disonll'!"5 in LIr!'II,1 Arcl1s, copyright ID
1965 by the University of Chicago. Origini\! map ildnpled from milps prep<1red by theSoc\u\ Science Re-
former culture are at least partly preserved. In some of the most suc-
"p,,~("h ,,,,,,,"';'1,,,, ,1,,,, 1.. ;"".~(", "f rj,ir~n" cessfully isolated of these, such as the Russian-Jewish "ghetto," the Old-
 80 Social Disorganization
World cultures are preserved almost intact. Where this is the case, there
may be a very successful social control and little social disorganization,
especially in the first generation. But as soon as the isolation of these
first-settlement communities begins to break down, the disorganization
is severe. Extreme poverty is the rule; high rates of juvenile delinquen-
cy, family disorganization, and alcoholism reflect the various stresses
in the lives of these populations.
Two distinct types of disorganizing factors can be seen in the for-
eign-born slum areas. The first is the isolation of the older generation,
the foreign-born who speak English with difficulty or not at all and who
are never quite able to become assimilated to the point of establishing in-
timate friendships with anyone other than their native countrymen.
Within the segregated ethnic communities these persons are well adapt-
ed to their surroundings, but as soon as they move away or are desert-
ed by their neighbors, they suffer from social isolation. 6 The second type
of disorganizing factor operates among the members of the second and
third generations. The very high delinquency rate among the second-
generation children has been shown by Shaw'? 1his disorganization can
be shown to develop from the nature of the child's social situation. Also
growing out of the peculiar social situation of the second generation is
the mental conflict of the person who is in process of trar:tSition behveen
two cultures-the culture of his ancestors and the culture of the new
world in which he lives. As he attends American schools and plays with
children of other than his own nationality, the child soon finds himself
separated from the world of his parents. He loses respect for their cus-
toms and traditions and in many cases becomes ashamed of his own
nationality, while at the same time he often fails to gain complete ac-
ceptance into the American group of his own generation. This is partic-
ularly true if he is distinguished by calor or by features which betray his
racial or national origin. TIlls person is then a "man without a culture,"
for though he participates to some extent in two cultures, he rejects the
one and is not entirely accepted by the other. 8
The Negro areas are, in general, similar in character to the foreign-
born slum areas. The principal Negro district in Chicago extends for
several miles southward from the business district. Two smaller Negro
districts are located on the Near West Side, as well as one on the Near
North Side. In the larger area on the South Side, the social disorganiza-
tion is extreme only at the part nearest the business district. 9 In the parts
farther to the south live the Negroes who have resided longer in the city
and who have become more successful economically. These communi-
ties have much the same character as the nearby apartment-house areas
inhabited by native-born whites.
8. Robert E. L. Fads and H. Warren Dunham 81
For some miles along the Lake Front in Chicago a long strip of apart-
. ment-hotel districts has grown up. 111ese districts occupy a very ple.as-
t and favorable location and attract residents who are able to pay high
:ntals. The rates of various indices of social disorganization are in gen-
erallow in these sections. .
The outlying residential districts of middle-class and upper-rrud-
dIe-class native-born white population live in apartments, two-flat
homes, and single homes. In these districts, and especially the single
homes areaS in which there is a large percentage of homes owned by
the inhabitants, the population is stable and there is little or no social
disorganization in comparison with those areas near the center of the
city.
Not only are such statistical facts as population composition, ~itera­
cy, dependency rates, and disease rates known to vary g~eatly ill the
different sections of the city, but also mental life and behavlOr. In one of
the most conclusive of these studies, the study of juvenile delinquency
by Clifford R. Shaw and his associates, 10 suffici~t control was .obtained
to establish with reasonable certainty that the high rates of delinquency
were products not of the biological inferiority of the population stocks
that inhabit the slum areas, nor of any racial or national peculiarity, but
rather of the nature of the social life in the areas themselves. The delin-
quency rates remained constantly high in certain urban areas which
were inhabited by as many as six different national groups in succes-
sion. Each nationality suffered from the same disorganization in these
areas and each nationality alike improved after moving away from the
deteriorated areas.
As has been shown, the natural areas which have been defined
above can be identified by the use of certain mathematical indices for
different types of social phenomena. Such indices as the percentage of
foreign-bOlTI, the percentage of homes owned, the sex ratio, the median
rentals paid, the density of population, the rate of mobility, the educa-
tional rate, the percentage of rooming-houses and hotels, and the per-
centage of condemned buildings, roughly tend to identify these areas
and to differentiate between them. These indices might be regarded as
ones which measure the extent of social disorganization between the
different communities and the natural areas of the city. Other types of
objective date, representing such social problems as juvenile delin-
quency, illegitimacy, suicide, crime, and family disorganization, might be
considered as indices representing effects or results of certain types of
social processes. As in the research of Clifford Shaw which has been
 82 Social Disorganization
described above, the rates for these different social problems tend to fit
rather closely into the ecological shucture of the city as described by
Park, Burgess, and others. In other words, in all of these social prob-
lems there is the concentration of high rates close to the center of the
city;. with the rates declining in magnitude as one travels in any direction
toward the city's periphery. Shaw's study of juvenile delinquency gives
onc of the most complete pictures of this pattern. The other studies, in
general, show the same pattern with certain variations which develop
because of the location of certain ethnic groups in certain parts of the
city.
The problem of mental disorder has been for the first time ap-
proached by the utilizing of this ecological technique. It is the attempt to
examine the spatial character of the relations between persons who have
different kinds of mental breal<downs. While this type of approach is
used in this study, the authors wish to emphasize that they regard it as
having definite limitations in understanding the entire problem of men-
tal disorder. It can be looked upon as a purely cultural approach and as
such does not tend to conflict with any understanding of tills problem
which may come from biological, physiological, or psychological ap-
proaches. However, in the light of these previous studies of social prob-
lems utilizing this method it does seem particularly desirable to study
the distribution of the different types of mental disorders.
NOTES
1. R. E. Park and E. W. Burgess, The City (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1925).
2. R. E. Park, "SOciology," in Research ill the Social Sciellces, ed. Wilson Gee
(New York: Macmillan Co., 1929), pp. 28-29.
3. Nels Anderson, Tile Hobo (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1923).
4. H. W. Zorbaugh, The Gold Coast {//ld the Slum (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1929).
5. R. S. Cavan, Suicide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928).
6. Louis Wirth, Tile Glzetto (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928).
7. C. R. Shaw et al., Delillquency Areas (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1929).
8. Everett Stonequist, TIle Margillal Mall (New York: Charles Scribner's
SODS,1937).
9. E. Franklin Frazier, The Negro Family ill Chicago (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1932).
10. C R. Shaw and H. D. McKay, Report 011 tfli! Causes of Crime, National
Commission on Law Observance and Enforcement (Washington, nc:
U.S. Government Printing Office, 1931).
9. C. Wright Mills 83
Analysis and Critique
9 The Professional Ideology of Social Pathologists
C. WRIGHT MILLS
An analysis of textbooks in the field of social disorganization reveals a
common style of thought which is open to social imputation. By grasp-
ing the social orientation of this general perspective we can ~derstand
why thinkers in this field should select and handle problems m ille man-
ner in which they have.
By virtue of the mechanism of sales and distribution, textbooks tend
to embody a content agreed upon by the academic group using them. In
some cases texts have been written only after an informal poll was taken
on professional opinion as to what should be included, and other texts
are consulted in the writing of a new one. Since One test of their suc-
cess is wide adoption, the very spread of the public for which they are
written tends to insure a textbook tolerance of the commonplace. Al-
though the conceptual framework of a pathologist's textbook is not usu-
aUy significantly different from that of such monographs as he may
write, this essay is not concerned with the Ifcomplete thought" or with
the "intentions" of individual authors; it is a study of a professional ide-
ology variously exhibited in a set of textbooks.' Yet, because of its per-
sistent importance in the development of American sociology and its
supposed proximity to the social scene, "social pathology" seems an
appropriate point of entry for the examination of the style of reflection
and the social-historical basis of American sociology.
The level of abstraction which characterizes these texts is so low
that often they seem to be empirically confused for lack of abstraction to
knit them together. 2 They display bodies of meagerly connected facts,
ranging from rape in rural districts to public hOllsing, and intellectually
sanction this low level of abstraction. 3 The "informational" character of
social pathology is linked with a failure to consider total social struc-
hires. Collecting and dealing in a fragmentary way with scattered prob-
lems and facts of milieux, these books are not focused on larger
stratifications or upon structured whales. Such an omission may not be
accounted for merely in terms of a general "theoretical weakness." Such
structural analyses have been available; yet they have not been attend-
Reprinted with permission from C. Wright Mills, "The Professionillldcology of Saciill
Pilthologists," AII1t'riCIIJl jOllmnl oJ50cio!ogy, vot. 49 (September 1942), pp. 165-80. Copy-
....:_1..."", ,n.'" 1.. ••• ,-_, 1_' .. ___ '< •• _,,....,., ___ _
84 Social Disorganiza non
ed to or received into the tradition of this literature. American sociolo-
gists have often asserted an interest in the" correlation of the social sci-
ences"; nevertheless, academic departmentalization may well have been
instrumental in atomizing the problems which they have addressed. 4
Sociologists have always felt that "not many representatives of the older
forms of social science are ready to admit that there is a function for so-
ciology."5 However, neither lack of theoretical ability nOf restrictive
channeling through departmentalization constitutes a full explanation of
the low level of abstraction and the accompanying failure to consider
larger problems of social structure.
If the members of an academic profession are recruited from similar
social contexts and if their backgrounds and careers are relatively simi-
lar, there is a tendency for them to be uniformly set for some common
perspective. The common conditions of their profession often seem more
important in this connection than similarity of extraction. Within such a
generally homogeneous group there tend to be fewer divergent points of
view which would clash over the meaning of facts and thus give rise
to interpretations on a more theoreticalleve1. 6
The relatively homogeneous extraction and similar careers of Amer-
ican pathologists is a possible factor in the low level of abstraction char-
acterizing their work. All the authors considered7 (except one, who was
foreign born) were born in small towns, or on farms near small tmvlls,
three-fourths of which were in states not industrialized during the youth
of the authors. The social circles and strata in which they have several-
ly moved are quite homogeneous; all but five have participated in sim-
ilar "reform" groups and "societies" of the professional and business
classes. By virtue of their being college professors (all but three are
known to have the Ph.D.), of the similar type of temporary positions
(other than academic) which they have held, of the sameness of the "so-
cieties" to which they have belonged and of the social positions of the
persons whom they have married, the assertion as regards general sim-
ilarity of social extraction, career, and circles of contact seems justified. 8
A further determinant of the level of abstraction and lack of explic-
it systematization (beyond which the mentality we are examining does
not easily or typically go) is the immediate purpose and the type of pub-
lic for which they have presumably written. They have been teachers
and their specific public has been college students: this has influenced
the content and direction of their intellectual endeavors. 9 Teaching is a
task which requires a type of systematization to which the textbook an-
swers. Most of the "systematic" or "theoretical" work in "social pathol-
ogy" has been performed by teachers in textbooks for academic
purposes. ID 'The fact that sociology often won its academic right to exis-
tence in nnnn.cdtinn tn nthpr rlpn",rh,..,pnh, T'n<>H h"'~fD ; .........,.. .......... ...1 ~h ... ~ ...
't f r textbook systematization. Such systematization occurs in a
cesstYt of
0 .
presentation and of lusti' fcation
i ' rath er tl1an Wl·th·ID a context
conet X
of discovery. 11 The textbook-writing and the ac.a d ' pro f
eInlC '
essI.on 0
ft!le
't tl1us ficrure in the character and functIOn of systematic theory
wn ers 0 akin
within the fieldY Systematization of facts for the purpo.se ~f m . g
them accessible to collegiate minds is one thing; systematizatio~ hwtu:
is oriented toward crucial growing-points in a research process IS qUlte
ther. An attempt to systematize on the level of the textbook makes
= . .
for a taxonomic gathering of facts m:d a syst~matl~atlOn 0 fthem und ~r
concepts that have already be.en lOgIcally ~efmed. 3 ~e research POSSI-
bilities of concepts are not as unportant as IS the puttmg of the accumu-
lated factual details into some sort of order.
But, even though the perspectives of these texts are usually not ex-
plicit, the facts selected for treatment are no~ u:andom." One way to
grasp the perspective within which they do lie IS to anal~ze the scope
and character of their problems. What, then, are the selecting and orga-
nizing principles to be extracted from the range and content of these
texts? What types .of fa~t ~ome within the~ field ,~f att~ntion? "_
The direction 15 defirutely toward partICular practical problems
problems of "everyday life."!4 The ideal of practicality, of not being
"utopian," operated, in conjunction with other factors, as a polemIC
against the "philosophy of history" brought into American ~ociology by
men trained in Germany; this polemic implemented the dnve to lower
levels of abstraction. A view of isolated and immediate problems as the
"real" problems may well be characteristic of a society rapidly ~owing
and expanding, as America was in the nineteenth century and, Ideolog-
ically, in the early tvventieth century. The depictive mod~ of speech and
the heavy journalishc "survey" are intellectual concotn1~~nts of an :x-
panding society in which new routines are ri.sing and CIties are bem?
built.ls Such an approach is then sanctioned WIth canons of what con:t~­
lutes real knowledge; the practice of the detailed and complete e~~lf1-
cism of the survey is justified by an epistemology of gross descnphon.
TI1ese nonns of adequate knowledge linger in an academic tradition t?
mold the work of its bearers. The emphasis upon fragmentary,16 practi-
cal problems tends to atomize social objectives. 111e studies so infor~ed
are not integrated into designs comprehensi,:e enough t~ serve collectIve
action, granted the power and intent t? ~eali~e such act,~on. .
One of the pervasive ways of defmmg problems or of detectmg
"disorganization" is in terms of deviation frOIH Horms. The "norms" so
used are usually held to be the standards of "society." Later we ,shall
see to what type of society they are oriented. In the ~bs~nce Of. studies of
specific norms themselves this mode of problematlZatlOn shIfts the re-
••• H , '., •• ,'" r .1,' • 1 . _, . , __ • _ _ "..J_

86 Social Disorganization
mocratic" rationale to his work. I7 Rationally, it would seem that those
wh? accept this approach to "disorganization" would immediately ex-
alllIne these norms themselves. It is significant that given their interest
in reforming society, which is usually avowed, these writers typically as-
sume the norms which they use and often tacitly sanction them. lB There
are few attempts to explain deviations from norms in terms of the norms
themselves, and no rigorous facing of the implications of the fact that so-
cial transformations would involve shifts ill tTJeI1L.
The easy way to meet the question of why norms are violated is in
terms of biological impulses which break through "societal restrictions."
A paste-pot eclectic psychology provides a rationale for this facile analy-
siS.~9 Thus, more comprehensive problematization is blocked by a bio-
lOgICal theory of social deviation. And the "explanation" of deviations
can be put in terms of a requirement for more "socialization./I "Social-
iza~on" is either undefined, used as a moral epithet, or implies norms
which are themselves without definition. The focus on "the facts" takes
no cognizance of the normative structures within which they lie.
TIle texts tend either to be "apolitica1"20 or to aspire to a "democra-
tic".opportunism. 21 When the political sphere is discussed, its patho-
logIcal phases are usually stated in terms of "the antisocial," or of
"corruption/' etc. 22 In another form the political is tacitly identified with
~he pro~er functioning of the current and unexammed political order; it
IS espeCIally likely to be identified with a legal process or the adminis-
tration of laws. TIlf the "norms" were examined, the investigator would
perhaps be carried to see total strucrures of norms and to relate these to
dis:ributions of power. Such a structural point of sight is not usually
achIeved. The level of abstraction does not rise to permit examination of
these normative structures themselves, or of why they come to be trans-
gressed, or of their political implications. Instead, this literature dis-
cusses many kinds of apparently unrelated "situations."
About the time W. 1. Thomas stated the vocabulary of the situation-
al approach, a social worker was finding it congenial and useful. In M.
E. Richmond's influential Social Diagnosis (1917) we gain a clue as to
why pathologists tend to slip past structure to focus on isolated situa-
tio~, ,:~y there, ~s a tendency for problems to be considered as problems
of mdlvlduals,-'i and why sequences of situations were not seen as
linked into Structures:
So~ia.l ?Jagnosis .... may be described as the attempt to make as exact a
~efinihon a: possible of tt:e s~tua~on and personality of a human being
m some socIal need-of his SItuation and personality, that is, in relalion
to the other human beings upon whom he in any way depends or who
depend upon him, and in relation also to the social institutions of his
community,25
9. C. Wright Mills 87
. I. d of formulation has been widely applied to isolated "prob-
" dclre sed by sociologt'sts.-?6 And th"
This<lD . . I approac h"lsn
e sltuationa 1a a
lems" s .. al
affinity with other elements which charactenze theu gener perspec-
tive. 27
Present institutions train several types ,0£ p:rso~~;-suc~ as J~~~es
•
'al workers-to think in terms of "sltuations. - TheIr activltIes
an d SQel . f' 'th'
and mental outlook aIe set within the eXIstent n~rms 0 sO:lety: ID err
rofessional work they tend to have an occupatiOnally tramed mcapac-
Pty to rise above series of "cases." It is in part through such concepts as
~'situation" and through such methods as "the case ~pproach"~9 tl:at 50-
. I thologists have been intellectually tied to socIal work WIth Its oc-
CIa pa . ... . tl irnil' . f
ational position and politicallimitanons. And, agaID, le s anty 0
Cll P I ." f
origin and the probable lack of any. continuous c asS e~penence 0
JI
the crroup of thinkers decrease thelr chances to see soctal structure.s
rath~r than a scatter of situations. 1he mediums of ~xperience ~d ~n­
entalion through which they respectively view soclety are. too smular,
too homogeneous, to permit the clash of diverse angles which, through
controversy, might lead to the construction of a whole. .
The paramount fact of immigration in Americ~r: culture, WIth each
wave of immigrants displacing the lower-class pOSItion of former waves
and raising the position of the earlie~ immigrants, ~~o te~ds to obscure
structural and class position. 3D TI1US, mstead ~f p~s~tlOnallssues, pa~ol­
ogists typically see problems in te~ms of an md.lvld~~, s.uc~ as a~, un-
migrant, "adjusting" to a miheu31 or bemg ~sslmI~ate~ o.r
Americanized. Instead of problems of class structure mvolvmg unrru-
gration, the tendency has been to institute ?roble~s ~.terms of immi-
gration involving the nationalist assimil.a~IOn of. m~lvlduals. ~he fa:t
that some individuals have had opporturuhes to nse ill the Amencan hi-
erarchy decreases the chance fully to see the ceiHr:gs of class. Under
these conditions such structures are seen as fluctuatmg and unsubstan-
tial and are likely to be explained not in terms of class positiol1 but in
terms of status attitudes.'J2
Another element that tends to obviate an analytic view of structu~e
is the emphasis upon the "processual" and "org~nic" c.h~racter of SOCI-
ety. In Cooley, whose influence on these books IS dec~slVe, o~e gets a
highly formal, many-si~ed fluidity :-rhere "nothing is fix~d o~ ~~epen­
dent, everything is plastic and takes mfluen~e as well as gIves It. F~om
the standpoint of political action, such a VIew may mean a reforr:n~sm
dealing with masses of detail and furthers a tendency t~ be a~ohtl.caL
There can be no bases or points of entry for larger SOCIal actlOn in a
structureless flux. The view is buttressed epistemologically with an emo-
tionalized animus against " par ticularism" and with the intense approval

88 Social Disorganization
al '~multiple-factor" view does not lead to a conception of causation
,:hlch w~~ld permit points of entry for broader types of action, espe-
clal.1y pO~lhcal action.35 No set of underlying structural shifts is given
which ffilght be open to manipulation, at key points, and which, like
the fact of private property in a corporate economy, might be seen as
efficacious in producing many "problems." If one fragmentalizes society
into IIfactors," into elemental bits, naturally one will then need quite a
few of them to account for something,36 and one can never be sure they
are all in. A formal emphasis upon "the whole" plus lack of total struc-
tural consideration plus a focus upon scattered situations does not make
it easy to reform the status quo.
The "organic" orientation of liberalism has stressed all those social
factors which tend to a harmonious balance of elements. 37 There is a
minimization of chances for action in a social milieu where "there is al-
ways continuity with the past, and not only with anyone element only
of the past, but with the whole interacting organism of man."38 In seeing
everything social as continuous process, changes in pace and revolu-
tionary dislocations are missed39 or are taken as signs of the "patholog-
ical." The formality and the assumed unity implied by "the mores" also
lower the chances to see social chasms and structural dislocations.
Typically, pathologists have not attempted to construct a structural
whole. When, however, they do consider totalities, it is in terms of such
concepts as "society," "the social order," or "the social organization,"
"the mores and institutions," and "American culture." Four things
sho~ld be noted about their use of such terms: (a) The terms represent
undifferentiated entities. Whatever they may indicate, it is systemati-
cally homogeneous. Uncritical use of such a term as "the" permits a
writer the hidden assumption in pOlitically crucial contexts of a homo-
geneous and harmonious whole:lO The large texture of "the society" will
take care of itself, it is somehow and in the long nm harmonious,41 it
has a "strain toward consistency" running through it,42 or, if not this,
then only the co-operation of all is needed,43 or perhaps even a right
moral feeling is taken as a solution. 44 (b) In their formal emptiness these
~erms .a:e commensurate with the low level of abstraction. Their jonl1al-
rh) faCliltates the empirical concern with "everyday" problems of (com-
munity) milieu. (c) In addition to their "descriptive" use, such tenus are
used normatively. The "social" becomes a good term when it is used in
ethical polemics against "individualism" or against such abstract moral
qualities as "selfishness," lack of "altruism," or of "antisocial" senti-
ments.45 "Social" is conceived as a "co-operative" "sharing" of something
or as "conducive to the general welfare."46 The late eighteenth-century
use, of "s?~ie~" .a~. ag~t .~'~tate" by the rising bourgeoisie had already
9. C. Wright MW::;
. (d) There is a strong tendency for the term "society" to be practi-
wts. . terms 0 f
' ated to, or conceived large1y In ·
, pnmary groups
11 s simil
caya .. ch . . allY cl1ar-
and sma
II homogeneous cornmuruties. Su a conception typlC
. 47 In 1·· ·t
te izes the literature within our purvIew. exp ammg 1 , we come
~~o~ an element that is highly important in understanding the total
perspective.
The basis of "stability," "order," or "solidarity" is not typically ana-
d in these books but a conception of such a basis is implicitly used
Iy z e ' . 0 f a socm. IIy ''11e althy "
d sanctioned 48 for some normative conception
: d stable org~zation is involved in the determination ~f "pathologi-
1" conditions. "Pathological" behavior is not discerned m a structural
~:nse (i.e., as incommensurate with an existent struc~al type! ~r in .a
statistical sense (i.e., as deviations from centra~ tendenc~e~). This IS e~I­
d ced by the regular assertion that pathologlcal conditlOns abollad m
~; City.49 U they "abound" therein, they cannot be "abnormal" in the
tatistical sense and are not likely to prevail in the structural sense. It
~ay be proposed that the norms in terms of which "pathological" con-
ditions are detected are "humanitarian ideals." But we must then ask
for the social orientation of such ideals. so In this literature the operating
criteria of the pathological are typically rural in orientation and extrac-
tion. 51
Most of the "problems" considered arise because of the urban dete-
rioration of certain values which can live genuinely only in a relatively
homogeneous and primary rural milieu. The "problems" discussed typ-
ically concern urban behavior. When ."rural pr~bIe.ms'~?are disc~ssed,
they are conceived as due to encroaching urballlzation. - The notion ~f
disorganization is quite often merely the absence of that ty~e.of org~­
zation associated with the stuff of primary-group commulllties havmg
s3
Christian and Jeffersonian legitimations.
Cooley, the local colorist of American sociology, was the chief pu~­
licist of this conception of normal organization. He he~d "the gr~at ~s­
torical task of mankind" to be the more effective and WIder orgaruzation
of that moral order and pattern of virtues developed in primary groups
and communities.S.1 Cooley took the idealists' absoluteS:> and gave It the
characteristics of an organic village; all the world should be an enlarged,
Christian-democratic version of a rural village. He practically assimi-
lated "society" to this primary-group coffilfiunity, and he blessed it emo-
tionally and conceptually." "There is reflected here," says T. V. Smith
of Cooley-and what he says will hold for the typical ~ocial patholo -
gist-"what is highly COffilfion in our culture, an ldeal of mtimacy short
of which we do not rest satisfied where other people are concerned. So-
cial distance is a dire fate, achieved with difficulty and lamented ~s high-
 90 Social Disorganization
enough to have saints; we must have 'communion' of the saints. In order
to have social relations, we must nuzzle one another."S?
The aim to preserve rurally oriented values and stabilities is indi-
cat~d b~ ~e implicit model which operates to detect urban disorgani-
zatIOn; 1~ IS, also shown by the stress upon community welfare. The
comrnuruty IS taken as a major unit, and often it sets the scope of concern
and pr?blematization,s8 It is also within the framework of ideally de-
mocratic communities that proposed solutions are to be worked out. 59 It
sho~d be noted th~t sometimes, although not typically or exclusively,
solutions are conceIved as dependent upon abstract moral traits or de-
mocratic surrogates of them, such as a "unanimous public will. 1160
"Culturallag" is considered by many pathologists to be the con-
cept ~ith which many scattered problems may be detected and sys-
tematIZed. Whereas the approach by deviation from norms is oriented
"ideolOgically" toward a rural type of order and stability, the cultural-Iag
model IS taCItly oriented in a "utopian"61 and progressive manner to-
ward changing some areas of the culture or certain institutions so as to
"integrate" them with the state of progressive technology.62 We must
analyze the use made by pathologists of "lag" rather than abstract for-
mulations of it. 63
, E:ren thou~h all the situations called "lags" exist in the present, their
£:mctional realities are referred back, away from the present. Evalua-
tions are thus translated into a time sequence; culturallag is an assertion
of unequal "progress." It tells us what changes are "called for," what
changes 1I0ught" to have come about and didn't. In terms of various
spheres of society it says what progress is, tells us how much we have
had, ought to have had, didn't have, and when and where we didn't
have it. The imputation of "lag" is complicated by the historical judge-
m:nt ID whos~ guise it is advanced and by the programmatic content
bemg shoved mto pseudo-objective phrases, as, for example, "called
for."
It is not ~nough to recognize that the stating of problems in terms of
culturallag mvolves evaluations, however disguised. One must find
the general loci of this kind of evaluation and then explain why just this
form of ~valuation has been so readily accepted and widely used by
patholOgIsts. The model in which institutions lag behind technology
and SCIence mvolves a positive evaluation of natural science and of or-
derly progressive change. Loosely, it derives from a liberal continuation
of the enlightenment with its full rationalism, its messianic and now
politic~~ naIve admiration of physical science as a kind of thinking
and actiVIty, and with its concept of time as progress. This notion of
progress was"carried into American colleges by the once prevalent Scot-
"":_1_ _ • ____ , 1 1~ ..... _ •••
~._. __ •
9. C. Wright Mills 91
or three decades of the tvventieth century the expanding business and
middle classes were taking over instruments of production, political
power, and social prestige; and many of the academic men of the gen-
eration were recruited from these rising strata and/or actively mingled
with them. Notions of progress are congenial to those who are riSing in
the scale of pOSition and income.
Those sociologists who think in terms of this model have not typi-
cally focused upon the conditions and interest groups underlying vari-
ant "rates of change" in different spheres. One might say that in te!1l15 of
the rates of change at which sectors of culture could move, it is technol-
ogy that is "lagging," for the specific reason of the control of patents,
etc., by intrenched interests. 6.j In contrast to the pathologists' use, Ve-
blen's use of "lag, leak, and friction" is a structural analysis of industry
versuS business enterprise. 65 He focused on where "the lag" seemed to
pinch; he attempted to show how the trained incapacity of legitimate
businessmen acting within entrepreneurial canons would result in a
commercial sabotage of production and efficiency in order to augment
profits within a system of price and ownership. He did not like this "un-
workman-like result," and he detailed its mechanism. In the patholo-
gists' usage the conception has lost this specific and structural
anchorage: it has been generalized and applied to everything fragmen-
tarily. This generalization occurs with the aid of such blanJ:;et terms as
"adaptive culture" and "material culture. "66 There is no specific focus for
a program of action embodied in the application of such terms.
Another model in terms of which disorganizations are instituted is
that of "social change" itself.67 This model is not handled in anyone
typical way, but usually it carries the implicit assumption that human
beings are "adjusted" satisfactorily to any social condition that has ex-
isted for a long time and that, when some aspect of social life changes, it
may lead to a social problem. 68 The notion is oriented ideologically and
yet participates in assumptions similar to those of culturallag, which, in-
deed, might be considered a variant of it. Such a scheme for problema-
tization buttresses and is buttressed by the idea of continuous process,
commented on above; but here the slow, "evolutionary" pace of change
is taken explicitly as normal and orgaruzed,69 whereas lldiscontinuity" is
taken as problematic'?o The orientation to "rural" types of organization
should be recalled. In line with the stress on continuous process, the
point where sanctioned order meets advisable change is not typically
or structurally drawn.71 A conception of "balance" is usual and some-
times is explicitly sanctioned.72 The question, "Changes in what spheres
induce disorganization?" is left open; the position taken is usually some-
where between extremes, both of which are held to be bad?J This comes
 92 Social Disorganization
radical might well call reorganization. Without a construction of total
social structures that are actually emerging, one remains caught between
simple evaluations.
Besides deviation from norms, orientation to rural principles of sta-
bility, culturallag, and social change, another conception in terms of
which "problems" are typically discussed is that of adaptation or "ad-
justment" and their opposites. 74 The pathological or disorganized is the
maladjusted. This concept, as well as that of the "normal," is usually
left empty of concrete, social content,75 or its content is, in effect, a pro-
paganda for conformity to those norms and traits ideally associated
with small-town, middle-class milieux,76 When it is an individual who is
thought to be maladjusted, the "social type" within which he is malad-
justed is not stated. Social and moral elements are masked by a quasi-bi-
ological meaning of the term "adaptation"77 with an entourage of
apparently socially bare terms like "existence" and "survival," which
seem still to draw prestige from the vogue of evolutionism.78 Both the
quasi-biological and the structureless character of the concept "adjust-
ment" tend, by formalization, to universalize the term, thus again ob-
scuring specific social content. Use of "adjustment" accepts the goals
and the means of smaller community milieux?9 At the most, writers
using these terms suggest techniques or means believed to be less dis-
ruptive than others to attain the goals that are given. They do not typi-
cally consider whether or not certain groups or individuals caught in
economically underprivileged situations can possibly obtain the cur-
rent goals without drastic shifts in the basic institutions which channel
and promote them. The idea of adjustment seems to be most directly
applicable to a social scene in which, on the one hand, there is a society
and, on the other, an individual immigrant. BO The immigrant then "ad_
justs" to the new environment. The "immigrant problem" was early in
the pathologist's cent'er of focus, and the concepts used in stating it may
have been carried over as the bases for a model of experience and for-
mulations of other "problems." The Polish Peasant (1918L which has had
a very strong influence on the books under consideration, was empiri-
cally focused upon an immigrant group.
In approaching the notion of adjustment, one may analyze the spe-
cific illustrations of maladjustment that are given and from these in-
stances infer a type of social person who in this literature is evaluated as
"adjusted." The ideally adjusted man of the social pathologists is "so-
cialized." This term seems to operate ethically as the opposite of "sel£-
ish",Bl it implies that the adjusted man conforms to middle-class
morality and motives and "participates" in the gradual progress of re-
spectable institutions. If he is not a "joiner," he certainly gets around
<Inn into m;o1nv rnmm11n;hT nrn-<lni".-;>I-i""", 82 Tf 1... ,.,;,.. ,., .... ,,;~1;~ ... ...l
9. C. Wright Mills 93
·dual th:inl<s of others and is kindly toward them. He does not brood or
~ope about but is somewhat extrovert, eagerly partidp~ting in his com-
munity's institutions. His mother and father were not divorced, nor was
his home ever broken. He is "successful"-at least in a modest way-
since he is ambitious; but he does not speculate about matters too far
above his means, lest he become "a fantasy thinker," and the little men
don't scramble after tlle big money. The less abstract the traits and ful-
filled "needs" of "the adjusted man" are, the more they gravitate to-
ward the norms of independent middle-class persons verbally living
83
out Protestant ideals in the small towns of America.
NOTES
1. No attempt has been made to trace specific concepts la their intellectual
origins. Only elemenLs admitted into the more stable textbook formula-
tions have come within my view: the aim is to grasp typical perspectives
and key concepts. Hence, no one of the texts to be quo led exemplifies all
the concepts analyzed; certain elements are not so visible in given texts
as in others, and some elements are not evidenced in certain texts at all.
In general, the documentary quotations which follow in footnotes are
from the later editions of the following books: W. G. Beach and E. E.
Walker, American Social Problems (1934); J. H. S. Bossard, (a) Social Change
and Social Problems (1934), and (b) Problems of Social Well~Beillg (1927); c.
H. Cooley, (a) The Social Process (1918), (b) Hllmall Nature and tlte Social
Order (1902, 1922), (c) Social Organization (1909); Edward T. Devine, (a)
The NOl71wl Life (1915, 1924), (b) Progressive Social Acl'ioll (1933); R. C. Dex-
ter, Social Adjustment (1927); G. S. Dow, Society alld Its Proble1lls (1920,
1929); M. A. Elliott and F. E. Merrill, Social Disorga!lizatioll (1934, 1941); C.
A. EUwood, (a) TIle Social Problem, a COllstrllctive Allalysis (1915, 1919); (b)
Sociology lIud Modem Social Problellls (1910 ~35); H. P. Fairchild, Olltline of
Applied Sociology (1916, 1921); M. P. FolleU, (a) TIle New State (1918), (b)
Creative Experience (1924); James Ford, Social DeviatioH (1939); J. M.
Gillette and J. M. Reinhardt, Current Social Problt:1!Is (1933, 1937); J. L.
Gillin, (0) PovertYllnd Depewiellce (1921, 1926, 1937), (b) Social Pathology
(1933,1939); J. L. Gillin, C. G. Dittmer, and R. J. Colbert, Social Problems
(1928,1932); E. C. Hayes, editor's introductions to lext in lhe "Lippincott
Series"; W. J. Hayes and L V. Shannon, Visllal OJ/tlille of illtrodllclory Soci-
ology (1935); G. B. Mangold, Social Pat//Ology (1932, 1934); H. A. Miller,
Races, Natiolls, alld Classes (1924); H. W. Odum, Mall's Quest for Social
Guidance: Tile Study of Social Problems (1927); Maurice Parmelee, Poverty
and Social Progress (1916); H. A. Phelps, Contemporary Social Problellls
(1932,1933,1938); S. A. Queen and J. R. Gruener, Social PatllOlogy (1940);
S. A. Queen, W. B. Bodenhafer, and E. B. Harper, Social Organization mId
Disorganization (1935); C. M. Rosenquist, Social Problems (1940); U. G.
.. ~.·~ f1n,,:\
1.-]..,,, ;_,..l:
l H __ ~'. __ l._ r~~;_! n_~_
94 Social Disorganization
2. See Read Bain, "The Concept of Complexity," Social Forces, VIII, 222 and
369. K Mannheim has called Uus type "isolating empiricism" ("German
Sociology," Politica, February, 1934, p. 30).
3. H. P. Fairchild, p. vii: "Dealing with applied sociology [this book] de-
votes itself to facts rather than to theories." James H. S. Bassard (0), p. xi:
"In[ProblcIIIS of Social Well-Bdllg] an effort was made to consider chiefly
in a factual vein, certain elements which seemed of basic importance .. ,,"
G. B. Mangold, p. viii: "The author has tried to select that which [of fac-
tual material] best illustrates problems and practical situations."
The quotations in the footnotes are merely indications of what is
usual. The imputations presented must be held against the reader's total
experience with the literature under purview.
4. In Germany the academic division of specialties prior to the rise of soci-
ology channeled sociological work into a formal emphasis. In America a
somewhat comparable situation led to a fragmentalization of empirical
attention and especially to a channeling of work into "practical prob-
leITlS."
5. A. W. Small, American JOllrnal of Sociology, May, 1916, p. 785, citing an edi-
torial in the Americ(J/! Jot/mal of Soci%glJr 1907.
6. Such "homogeneity" is not, however, the only condition under which
some common style of thought is taken on by a group of thinkers. Com-
pare the formal conception of "points of coincidence" advanced by H. H.
Gerth in Die Sozielgeschichtlicltc Lnge del' burgerlicltell IntdligCllz llllS die
Wellde des 18 Jllltrflllllderts (diss., Frankfurt A.M.) (V.D.I.-Verlag, G.m.b.H.
Berlin, N. W. 7). The entire question of the grounding of imputations in
terms of social extraction and career-lines is an tmfinished set of method-
ological issues. In this paper the major imputations advanced do 110t pro-
ceed upon career data as much as upon the social orientation implied by
general perspectives and specific concepts, and by the selection of "prob-
lems."
7. Information concerning twenty-four of the thirty-two authors was full
enough to be considered. Five of the eight not considered were jtmior au-
thors collaborating with persons who are included.
8. The order of their respective experience has not been systematically con-
sidered. All career data on contemporary persons should be held tenta-
tively: open to revision by knowledge not now publicly available.
9. See above. A W. Small, p. 754:" ... the mental experience of the teacher-
explorer in the course of arriving at the present outlook of sociolo-
gists ... has also been due to the fact that many of the advances in
perception or expression have been in the course of attempts to meet stu-
dents' minds at their precise point of outlook." See C. Wright Mills,
"Language, Logic, and Culture," American Sociological Review, October,
1939, for mechanisms involved in such de terminations of the thinker by
his public.
10. This statement, as is Widely recognized, holds in a measure for all Amer-
ican SOciology. Cf., e.g., Pitirim Sorokin, "Some Contrasts in Contempo-
.. -. .... t' .... ~~~ ____ .J,, _ _ ....:_~~(">~_'_l_ It',..., , ~~--
9. C. Wright Mills 95
pp. 57 -58. "In America sociology has ~rown as ~ chil~ nursed by the
universities and colleges .... American literature ill soclOlogy has been
composed largely out of textbooks."
11. Cf. Hans Reichenbach, Experience a1ld Prediction, chap. 1. See P. Sorokin's
comment, op. Cit., p. 59.
12. J. L. Gillin (a), p. v.: "My years of experience as a social worker and
teacher have gone into the content and method of presentation." J. H. S.
Bossard (a), p. 759. "In the preceding chapters, problems have been
grouped on the basis of one underlying fact or condilion. Obvi~usly, this
is an arbitrary procedure which can be justified only on the baSIS of ped-
agogical expedience"; p. xi: "The ... is the ~ethod followe~: ... B~ ...~ay of
defense, this seems simpler and pedagogtcally preferable, p. Xli. The
decision to omit them was made ... second, because in an increasing num-
ber of colleges and universities, these particular fields are dealt with in
separate courses."
13. Ct. Fritz Mauthner, Aristotle, for the pedagogic character of the taxonom-
ic logiC of Aristotle. H. P. Fairchild, pp. 6-7:" ... the essential f~atures of tlle
scientific method ... are three in number. First, the accumulation of
facts .... Second, the arrangement or classification of tllese facts according
to some predetermined logical basis of classification .... " J. H. S. Bos~ard
(a), p. 34: "It is the present contention that the scientific stud~ ~f 5~clal
problems which confine;, itself to mere description and classifIcatIon
serves a useful purpose.
14. M. A. Elliott, Americall Sociological Review, June 1941, p. 317: "The only
problems which need concern the sociologists' theories and research are
the real, practical problems of everyday living." Queen and Gruener, p ..
42: "[In contradistinction to scientific problems] social problems ... pertam
directly to everyday life .... Their concern is usually 'practical,' and often
personal." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 32: "Frankly, applied sOciol~?y!s utili-
tarian. It is concerned with practical problems and purposes. Gllletle
and Reinhardt, p. 22: "The study of social problems constitutes the he~rt
of sociology as a science .... Even so-called 'pure' sociology, or theoretical
sociology, more and more devotes ilself to these practical problems of so-
~~. .
On the other hand, such writers as Ellwood, rising to a very lugh
level of abstraction, conceive formlllly of "the social problem." C. A. Ell-
wood (a), pp. 13 -14: "Some of us, at least, are beginning to perceive U1at
the social problem is now, what it has been in all ages, namely, the ~r~b­
felll of tile relations of men to olle allOt/ICl'. It is the problem of l1U~an hv~g
together, and cannot be confined to any statement in economIC, eugeruc
or otller one~sided terms .. .it is as broad as humanity and human na-
ture .... Such a statement [in terms of one sel of factors] obscures the real
nature of the problem, and may lead to dangerous, one-sided attempts at
its solution." In terms of social and intellectual orientation, both ways of
conceiving of "social problems" are similar in that neither is of a so:t ~s­
able in collective action which proceeds against, rather U1an well wlthm,
 96 Social Disorganization
15. See H. D. Lasswell, Politics (1936), p. 148; K. Mannheim, op. Cif., pp. 30
-31; and Ideology and Utopia, pp. 228 -29.
16. Gillin, Ditbner, and Colbert, p. 44: "There are hundreds of social prob-
lems, big and little," Queen and Gruener, p. 171: "We present here some
of the problems of day by day living encountered by diabetics and car-
diacs." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 33: "Certain particular social problems are
coming to be reserved for applied sociology. Their selection has been de-
termined less by logic or principle than by accident and historical devel-
opment"; p. 44: "The more one deals with life's problems at first hand,
the more one is impressed with their concreteness, their specificity, and
their infinite variety" Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 14: "From almost any
point of view there must be a large number of sodal problems today"; p.
15: "This book is a treatise on a large number of social problems. It does
not claim to consider them all. It repeatedly recognizes the plurality of
problems in its treatment of the great problems."
17. C. M. Rosenquist, p. 19:" ... popular recognition of any sodal condition or
process as bad, followed by any attempt to eliminate or cure it, serves as
a criterion for its inclusion in a study of social problems. The writer
merely accepts the judgment of public opinion. This is the method to be
followed in this book." E. T. Devine (a), in Note to the Second Edition:
"TIle object of Social Economy is that each shall be able to live as nearly
as pOSSible a normal life according to the standard of the period and the
community."
18. C. M. Rosenquist, p. 19: "Perhaps we may be on solid ground through a
recognition of the capitalist system and its accompaniments as normal.
We may then deal with its several parts, treating as problems those
which do not function smoothly. This, it seems, is what the more rep-
utable sociologist actually does." H. P. Fairchild, p. 59:" ... some of the so-
cial conditions which are the natural and consistent outcome of an
individualistic~capitalistic organization of industry, and hence are to be
considered as normal in modern societies." Examination of discussions
of such items as poverty in most of the texts confirms this assertion. J. L
Gillin (a), p. 495: "For serious depressions carefully planned unemploy-
ment relief schemes should be formulated before lhe depression is felt."
19. That is, an eclecticism that does not analyze in any adequate way the ele-
ments and theories which it seeks to combine. Ct. Reuter's critique,
Americall foumal of Sociology, November 1940, pp. 293 -304.
20. E. C. Hayes in the Introduction to H. A. Miller, p. x: "Not political action,
the inadequacy of which Professor Eldridge (Political Actioll) has shown,
nor revolution, the pathological character of which Professor Sorokin has
demonstrated, but social interaction, the causal efficiency of human rela-
tionships, is the predominant factor in securing both order and
progress."
21. J. H. S. Bossard (a), pp. 14 -15: "The constructive approach ... may be
sununarized in one sentence: It is always possible to do something.
... Such an approach represents in welfare work that hopelessly incurable
9. C. Wright Mills 97
hardt, pp. 16 -17: "There are no certain rules to be followed step by step
in the discovery of the solution. Our best recourse is to employ scientific
methods rigidly at every step ... because of uncertain factors always pre-
sent, we can never be sure that our conclusions are more than approxi-
mations of the truth .... Since we cannot completely control their
activities ... our cures must be partial and approximate." One type of link
behveen democratic ideology and social pathology is shown in the fol-
lowing quotation, wherein a condition that deviates from the former is
called pathologicali the quotation also indicates a typical shying away
from all orders of domination other tilan that type legitimated tradition-
ally, which is left open: H. A. WIler, p. 32: "When certain ... psycho-
pathological conditions are found, we may postulate an abnormal
relationship as a cause ... tile particular fonn of pathology which is in-
volved in our problem may be called the oppression psychosis. Oppression
is the domination of one group by another." G. V. Price, reviewing Queen
and Gruener, Social Forces, May 1941, p. 566: "Without using the work
democracy in the doctrinal sense the authors have shown what its utili-
ties are in reducing pathologies."
22. M. A. Elliott and F. E. Merrill, p. 28: "The pathological phases of the PON
litical process include such antiNsocial behavior as delinquency, crime,
disorder, revolt, and revolution. Corrupt political activity is an important
example of such malfunctiOning."
23. Note the identification of "political action" with legislation: Gillin,
Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 94: "It is an American practice to attempt to
solve any and every sort of social problem through political action. As a
result, our statute-books are loaded Vlli.th 'deadNletter' laws that are not
enforced simply because public opinion does not respect tilem, nor does
it feel responsible for them."
24. J. L. Gillin (a), p. 23: "Experience shows that rehabilitation is possible
only when each case of poverty or dependency is taken separately and
its difficulties handled with strict regard for all the attendant circum-
stances .... It must be done in terms of the individual. for. . .it cannot be
done ell/J/asse."
25. Richmond, p. 357; see also pp. 51 and 62.
26. J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 3: "Social problems consist of (a) a social situation,
(b) which are .... " Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 13: "Asocial problem is a sit N
uation, confronting a group .... "
27. 1. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 57: " ... the emphasis in our social thinking upon
tile situation as a unit of experience, as 'an aggregate of interactive and
interdependent factors of personality and circumstance,' is in essence a
recognition of the idea of the emergent. ... Queen recognizes the implica N
hODS of the siluational approach very clearly in these words: 'For pur~
poses of sociological analysis, a situation consists in relationships
between persons viewed as a cross section of human experience, con-
stantiy changing ... Thus we make of the concept "situation" an intellec N
tual tool'" (5. Queen, "Some Problems of the Situational Approach,"
98 Social Disorganization
28. See K Mannheirn, Mall alld Society, p. 305.
29. Queen, Bodenhafer, and Harper, p. viii! Editor's Note by S. Eldridge:
"The present volume .. .features the case approach to social problems."
30. Not the lack of structure in the conception of "class": Gillette and Rein-
hardt, p. 177: "Viewing the matter historically, then, it appears that the
chief cause of rigid class systems of society WiUl their attendant evils is
the prolonged concentration of wealth in the hands of a relatively few
persons."
31. See below, the concept of "adjustment."
32. Gillin, Dittmer, and Calbect, p. 59: "The most fundamental cause of class
and group conflict is the attitude of superiority on the part of one class,
or group, toward another."
33. The Social Process, pp. 44 -45.
34. Elliott and Merrill, p. 38: "One of the most significant concepts in the un-
derstanding of social problems is the idea of multiple causation."
35. See above comments on political relevance. C. A Ellwood (b) p. 324: "We
may, perhaps, sum up this chapter by saying that it is evident that the
cure of poverty is not to be sought merely in certain economic rearrange-
ments, but in scientific control of the whole life process of human society.
This means that in order to get rid of poverty, the defects in education in
government, in religion and morality, in philanthropy, and even in phys-
ical heredity, must be got rid of. Of course, this can only be done when
there is a scientific understanding of the conditions necessary for normal
human social life. "
36. J. L. Gillin (a), pp. 51-128: " .... the modern theory of the causes of poverty
has passed beyond anyone-sided explanation to a many-sided theory."
The following conditions of poverty and dependence are discussed: poor
natural resources, adverse climate, adverse weather, insect pests, disas-
ters, illness and diseases, physical inheritance, mental inheritance, ad-
verse surroundings of children, death or disability of the earner,
unemployment, lack of proper wages, traditions, customs, habits, adver-
tising and instalment buying, fluctuations between costs of living and in-
come, inequitable distribution of wealth and income, family marital
relations, political conditions, unwise philanthropy, etc. After these dis-
cussions/family cases are presented as " .... studies in causation."
37. Whereas many socialist theories have tended to overlook the elastic ele-
ments that do exist in a society. Cf. K. Mannheim, Politica, pp. 25-26.
38. C. H. Cooley (a), p. 46.
39. See Max Lerner, It Is Later thart You Thillk, pp. 14-15; and Encyclopaedia of
tfJe Social Sciences, article "Social Process." See documentation and conse-
quences below.
40. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 11: "All this group life is nicely woven
into a system that we call society .... "
41. Ibid., p. 15: "But the aim of society is ever directed to the task of bringing
uniform advantages to all." C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 195: "Social organiza-
tion may refer to any condition or relation of the elements of a social
9. C. Wright Mills 99
between the individuals or the parts of a society. The problem of social
order is then the problem of hannonious adaptation ~ong the individ-
uals of the group .... "
42. It is significant that it was Sumner, with his tacit belief in "natural" order,
who set forth the phrase and what it implies.
43. Glllm, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 13: "Since a community is made up of a
number of neighborhoods, it is necessary Ulat all cooperate in order to
secure better schools, improved ... "
44. J. L. Gillin (a), p. 133: "Only as a passion for social righteousness takes
Ule place of an imperative desire for selfish advantage .... willsociety do
away with the conditions that now depress some classes of Ule popula-
tion and exhalt others."
45. C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 84: " .... increasing altruism is necessary for the suc-
cess of those more and more complex fonns of cooperation which char-
acterize higher civilization and upon which it depends." G. B. Mangold,
p. 17: "Without the spirit of altruism society would be but a sorry exhibi-
tion of the collective hwnanity that we believe has been made in the
image of God." Conversely, the "anti-social" is held to include certain
abslract, moral traits of individuals. Elliott and Merrill, p. 43: "An analy-
sis of the disorganization process suggests hvo types of anti-social forces:
(1) Ule consciously directed anti-social forces and (2) the impersonal or-
ganic forces which are an outgrowth of the formalism discussed
above .... to advance their own selfish ends. These men are thoroughly
aware of their anti-social attitudes. Social values have no meaning for
them ..... There has often been no SOcializing influence in the lives of
those men ..... Cooperation, or 'mutual aid,' Ule implicit counterpart of
effective social organization ..... Vice areas .... function because of human
appetites, because individual desires are more deeply rooted than any
sense of the social implications ..... The proslilule exists only because she
is a means to man's sensual pleasure and satiely"; p. 44: "Sin, vice, crinle,
corruption, all conSCiously directed anti-social forces, offer a prim-
rose .... " G. B. Mangold, p. 59: "Unsocial habits lead to poverty; particu-
larly do they degrade poverty into dependency. Chief among these vices
is intemperance. Before the advent of prohibition it was .... " Queen, 80-
denhafer, and Harper, p. 4: "When Ulere is .... characterized by harmony,
teamwork, understanding, approval, and the like, we may speak of orga-
nization. When the opposite is true and there is a .... marked by tension,
conflict, or drifting apart, we may speak of disorganization."
46. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 5: '''The word [social] means conducive to
the collective welfare, and thus becomes nearly eqUivalent to moral'
[Cooley, Human Nature ilml the Social Order, p. 4] .... it is this .... meaning
Ulat comes closest to our interpretation ... -'conducive lo the collective
welfare'-relationships, and products of relationships that are believed
to foster and promote gro1lP life, and to insure group SIlI-vival."
47. ]. L. Gillin (b), p. 313: " .... personal relationships .... a.re Ule most important
ties in the social organization .... " C. A. Ellwood (lJ), pp. 3-4: "The ten-
 100 Social Disorganiza tion
for the understanding of our social life, of 'primary' or face-ta-face
groups"; p. 77: "Primary groups .... are of most interest sociologically, be-
cause they exhibit social life at its maximum intensity, and because they
are the bearers of the most vital elements in social life, especially the tra-
ditions of civilization"; pp. 79-80: "The chief importance of primary
groups in our social life, however, is that they .... furrush the 'patterns'
which we attempt to realize in our social life in general"; pp. 84-85: "All
l11.unan history has, from one point of view, been a struggle to transfer al-
truism and solidarity of the family to successively larger and larger
groups of men"; pp. 90-91: "Primary, or face-ta-face groups are the key
to the understanding of our social life ..... " Gillin, Dittmer, Colbert, p.
282: " .... the home is probably our most fundamental social institu-
tion .... "; p. 285: ''Anything that endangers the stability of the family en-
dangers society."]' H. S. Bossard (a), p. 555: "Family life is the focal point
of virtually all of our social problems."
48. C. A. Ellwood (b), pp. 79-80: "The very ideal of social sOlidarity itself
comes from the unity experienced in such [primary] groups." Elliott and
Merrill, p. 581: "An ever-increasing number of persons living in the giant
cities has become completely deracinated, cut off from all stable primary
ties. They have lost not only their physical home, but often their spiritual
home as well. Social disorganization breeds in these unattached masses
of the urban proletariat. They furnish willing nuclei for robbery, brig-
andage, and revolution."
49. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 411: "In the city we have a greater degree of disorgani-
zation in the sense in which we use that term"; p. 410: " .... in the Simple
and well-organized ties of country life .... "; p. 409: "Recreation in the
country is largely homemade ..... In the city it is professionaL ... The pat-
terns of behavior .... are here again disorganized and new patterns have
to be found." Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 116: "Cities exhibit all the social
problems, save those peculiar to agricultural extractive pursuits." H. P.
Fairchild, p. 304: "Since tilere are no lIatural facilities available to the ma-
jority of dellizells of cities for the gratification of the desire for dancing, it
ineVitably follows that provision is made on a commercial basis" (my
italics). C. M. Rosenquist, p. 47: "The controls which were effective in the
small,settled fann community no longer suffice in .... the city. To this fact
may be traced many of the conditions we speak of as social prob-
lems ..... " W. G. Beach and E. E. Walker, pp. 102-3: " ... men find their life
interests and values in group membership and participation. The most
influential groups are tilose which provide intimate, face-ta-face relation-
ships, as the family, the playground, the club, the neighborhood, and the
small community ..... Any wholesome and satisfying life must proVide
for a continuation of such small groups and institutional forms ...... One
of the most elusive and challenging problems arising from the growth of
cities is that of preventing the complete disorganization of essential so-
cial groups. In the rural community ..... " J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 113: "The
marked trend of population to the city and the rapid rise of large urban
9. C. Wright Mills 101
centers, together with their reflex upon the rural regions, constitute the
basis of virtually every problem to be discussed in this volume."
50. This is what Waller does lIot do in his provocative discussion of "human-
itarian" and "organizing mores" ("Social Problems and the Mores,"
Amcriclll! Sociological Re-view, December, 1936, pp. 922-33).
51. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 407: The home "developing as ....mral" is considered
"disorganized" in the city: p. 409: "[In the city] it is only the rebel, unable
and unwilling to adjust himself to machine and organization, who re-
tains personal independence ..... The farmer, conscious that he lives by
his nwn thinking .... responds to his environment with a feeling of inde-
pendence-a normal response. The city worker has no keen perception
of his dependence upon nature." Elliott and Merrill, p. 32: "However dif-
ferent their approach, the basic dilemma of civilization is the fundamenH
tal disparity of values and standards of universally accepted definitions
of the situation."
52. C. A. Ellwood (b), p. 281: "The reflex of the city problem is the rural
problem." J. L. Gillin (b), p. 429: "[Urbanization] which has modified the
solidarity of the rural family ..... " W. J. Hayes and 1. V. Shannon, p. 22:
"Contacts .... emancipate individuals from control of primary
groups .... tilis leads to setting up personal norms of behavior instead of
confonning to group standards." (Implies no conception of llrball types
of norms.)
53. The intellectual consequences of the rural to urban drift are much wider
than the perspectives noted in the literature of pathology. In more gener-
al American sociology the writings of a man like E. A. Ross are to be un-
derstood in terms of a reaction of those oriented to a fanner's democracy
against the growth of big business, in its control of railroads, etc. Another
division of American sociology in which America's rural past is intellec-
tllally evident is "rural sociology" itself. This field shows the positive
side of the matter, for here the yearning for the values associated with
rural simplicity and neighborliness is even more noticeable. In this litera-
ture a primary, rural heritage is taken as the source of "stability" and is
conceived as the reservoir of "values." Such straddling concepts as
"urban" function to limit recognition of the urban character of dominant
contemporary social structures. In a historical sense we need not argue
with these emphases: the underlying form of American democracy and
religion, e.g., has drawn much from the dominance of a rural society.
And a rapid urbanization may well be only a veneer upon masses of ru-
rally oriented personalities. But the kind of structural stability in Ameri-
ca which grew from rural patterns is historical. In the world today the
kind of stability that can-indeed, in part has-emerged from the hunger
for those primary contacts historically associated with ties of blood and
closeness to soil is a streamlined variety.
54. Social Organizatiol!, chap. v.
55. G. H. Mead, "Cooley's Contribution to American Social Thought," AmerH
icall jOllmnf of Sociology, XXXV, 701: "Cooley was Ernersonian in finding
 102 Social Disorganiza tion
the individual self in an over soul." Cf. G. W. F. Begel, Lectures of the Phi-
losophy DJ History (London: Geo. Bell & Sons, 1884), especially pp. 39--44.
56. Note the common association of urban "impersonality" and "formalism"
with "disorganization." Elliott and Merrill, p. 16: " ... ,Jack of harmony be-
~veen the various units of the social order is in a sense exemplified by the
unpersonal nature of the social organization and the consequent process
of sociaJ disorganization .... [C£. C. H. Cooley, Social Process, pp. 3-29}"; p.
574: "There is a very close relationship belween formalism and disorgani-
zation, although at first glance the two states appear to be opposite poles
in the social process. They are in reality sequential steps in the same great
movement of disorganization, which grows out of formalism ..... "
57. Beyond COllsciellce, p. 111.
58. C. A EUwood (b), p. 12: 'j\]1 forms of association are of interest to the so-
ciologist, though not' all are of equal importance. The natural, genetic so-
dal groups, which we may caU 'communities: serve best to exhibit
sociological problems. Through the study of such simple and primary
groups as the family and the neighborhood group, for example, the
problems of sociology can be much better attacked than through the
study of society at large or association in general"; pp. 76-77: " .... nahrral
groupings, such as the family, the neighborhood, the city, the state or
province, and the nation. They may be, and usually are, called COI1lJlllllli-
ties, since they are composed of individuals who carry on all phases of a
common life. Voluntary, purposive associations always exist within some
community, whether large or small. Groups which we call 'communities'
are, therefore, more embracing, more stable, less artificial and speCialized
than purely voluntary groups. For this reason communities are of more
interest to the sociologist than specialized voluntary groups, and sociolo-
gy is in a peculiar sense a study of the problems of community life." J. H.
S. Bossard (a), pp. 49-50: "Acceptance of the community as a definite unit
~ social work and in social theory has become general during the past
fifteen years. American participation in the World War was an important
factor in bringing this about, first because the community constituted the
basic expression of that democratic spirit which the war engendered, and
second, the cormmmity was seized upon by the various war-time activi-
ties and drives as the most effective unit for the mobilization of the spirit
and resources of the nation."
59. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p.15: " ....social work, which means, scientifi-
cally developing and adjusting human relations in a way that will secure
normal life to individuals and communities and encourage individual
and community progress"; p. 47: " ... .it is important to keep in mind that
the central problem is that of adjusting our social life and our social insti-
tu?ons, so that, as individuals and as communities, we may use and
enJoy the largest measure of civilization possible, and promote further
progress." M. P. Pollett (a), Part ill, has suggested that neighborhood
groups be organized into political units. This would pennit the expres-
sion of daily life and bring to the surface live needs that they may be-
come the substance of politics. The neighborhood as a political unit
9. C. Wright Mills 103
would make possible friendly acquaintance; it would socialize people
and would make for "the realization of oneness."
60. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 97: "The 'liquor problem' is as acute in the United States
today as it ever was in the past, perhaps even more so"; p. 101: "The so-
lution must spring from an aroused and unanimous public will."
61. CL K Mannheim, IdeologJj and Utopia, for definitions of these terms.
62. However, "lag" and "norms" are not unrelated: Queen, Bodenhafer, and
Harper, p. 437: "Much of the discussion of cultural lags in the family as-
sumes some kind of normal pattern which is commonly believed to have
permanent validity because of the functions perfonned."
63. See examples given in J. W. Woodard's "Critical Notes on the Cultural
Lag Concept," Social Forces, March 1934, p. 388.
64. See, e.g., B. J. Stem's article in Annals of the AmericlllI Academy of Political
and Social Science, November 1938.
65. The Engilleers a1ld the Price System; The Theonj of Business Enterprise.
66. ]. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 5: " .... as Ogbum put it [Wo F. Ogbum, Social Chmlge
(1922)1 to the extent that the adaptive culture has not kept pace with the
material culture, the amoU!'\t of social ill-being has increased relatively."
67. J. L. Gillin (b, p. 416: "Social disorganization is a function of rapidly
changing conditions in people's lives." W.]. Hayes and I. V. Shannon, p.
20: "Social disorganization is an abrupt break in the existing social
arrangements or a serious alteration in the routine of group life causing
maladjustment." H. W. Odum, p. 100: " ... .if one reviews the general cate-
gories of social problems already listed in previous chapters, it must be
clear that most of them or their present manifestations are due to or ac-
cenhlated by the process of social change."
68. The point is made and acutely discussed by Rosenquist, pp. 8-10.
69. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 48: "Social life and its products require
long periods of time to develop and ripen ..... " Gillette and Reinhardt, p.
13: "The larger proportion of social changes are small and simpJe, and re-
semble osmosis in the field of physics and organic life." This gradualism
is related to the orientation to primary group relations and experiences
and hence to the "sharing" conception of the social E.g., Elliott and Mer-
rill, p. 11: ''l\ssimilation, on the other hand, is gradual and depends upon
some degree of contact and communication, if there is to be any vital
sharing of common experience (Cf. M. P. Follett, Creative E:r:perieTlce) ..... "
70. Gillette and Reinhardt, p. 30: " .... the need for thought about discontinu-
ity in industry or education and about our dependence on proper train-
ing to keep society stabilized and progressive should be emphasized"; p.
21: "The habitual, daily, routine, conventional activities of life forhmately
make up the greater part of life, most of the time. Often, however, they
are broken across by social breakdowns, disturbances, and dislocations
and the appearance of troublesome classes of persons." C. A. Ellwood
(a), p. 230; " ....revolulion is not a llonnal method of social change; ... .it
marks the breakdown of the normal means of social development; ... .it is
not inevitable, but may easily be avoided by plasticity in social institu-
tin"c ",..,.-1 :~ ..1... ____ ... 1 • •
 104 Social Disorganization
71. The notion of temporal contingency, at times extended to the point of
historical irrationality, plays into the processual, nonstructural character-
istics of the perspective; notice also its commensurability with the apolit-
ical and one-thing-at-a-time reformism. Elliott and Merrill, p. 3: "Life is
dynamic. Life is ceaseless, bewildering change, and man, armed though
he is with the experience of the past, can never be certain of the future.
He must recognize that the immediate present is a constantly changing
frame of reference and that future problems are a matter of chance for
which the past offers no sure panacea."
72. E. C. Hayes' Editor's Introduction to U. G. Weatherly, p. xii: "Realization
that progressive change is not likely to be less in the generation next to
come .... and determination .... to promote progress, is the nonnal attitude
for every person who is animated by generous loyalty and ..... " Weather-
ly, p. 138: "Both innovation and conservatism have their value, and the
balance between them, which is an ideal attitude .... "; p. 380: "DiScipline
and liberation are not hvo antagonistic processes; they are complemen-
tary parts of the same process, which is social equilibration. They illus-
trate the law of physics .... stability is reached only by a balance of
forces. "
73. C. A. Ellwood (a), p. vii: "The aim of the book is to indicate the direction
which our social thinking must take if we are to avoid revolution, on the
one hand, and reactions, on the other."
74. H. P. Fairchild, p. 35:
tJ •• •.it can be safely said that maladjustments are
among the most numerous and important of all forms of abnormality, fre-
quently being so extensive as to include entire social groups or classes."
75. Gillin, Ditbner, and Colbert, p. 530: '~social problems grow out of tlte
social problem-the problem of the adjustment of man to his universe,
and of the social universe to man. The maladjustments in these relation-
ships give us all our social problems ..... " H. P. Fairchild, p. 16: "While
the word 'nonual' carries a fairly definite and, for the most part, accurate
implication to the mind of any intelligent person, it is nevertheless ex-
tremely difficult to define in concrete terms ..... AB commonly used to
convey a definite idea, the word 'nonna!' means that which is in hanno-
ny with the general make-up and organization of the object under dis-
cussion-that which is consistent with other normal factors."
76. Elliott and Merrill, p. 17, correctly assert that in "Edward T. Devine's dis-
cussion of 'the nonnallife' the norm is the healthy and uneventful life
cycle of the average middle-class man or woman. lllese persons are
never subjected to the temptations of great wealth. Neither do they come
in contact with poverty, crime, vice, and other unpleasantly sordid as-
pects of life. [The Normal Life, pp. 5-8.] His discussion is thus a considera-
tion of the 'nonnal standards' for the several ages of the bourgeoisie ..... "
77. When it is 50 hidden; but note the heavily sentimental endowment the
tenn may receive: R. C. Dexter, p. 408: " ... .few of the present generation
of little ones, and fewer still of tile next, will never see the sun or the
green grass because of the sins of their parents or the carelessness of their
ohvsician: and thanks tn our inrrpi'!;;inp' nrnvi~inn fnr ITPP nl1hBr prh.r,,_
9. C. Wright Mills 105
tion, more and mare adapted to the needs of the individual child, thou-
sands of boys and girls will become intelligent, responsible citizens, Wor-
tilY of a free nation, instead of pawns for unscrupulous politicians. All
this and much more is due to social adjustments, made by the unceasing
effort and sacrifice of men and women who ..... "
78. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 4: "Social pathology .. .is the study of the social patterns
and processes involved in man's failure to adjust himseU and his institu-
tions to the necessities of existence to the end that he may survive and
satisfy the felt needs of his nature."
79. J. L. Gillin (b), p. 8: 'AA individual who does not approximate these [so-
cially approved] standards is said to be lmadjllsted. If he does not concern
himself with living up to them, he is said to be demoralized or disorga-
nized." R. C. Dexter, p. 407: "In this book the tenn Social Adjustment has
been .... used as applying to .... the necessary task of smoothing-off the
rough edges and softening the sledge-hammer blows of an indifferent
social system. The tenn ....is practically synonymous with social adapta-
tion-the fitting of man to his complete environment, physical and social
alike. Until the present it has been the especially maladjusted individual
or group who has received the service of 'straighteners.'" (Note ideologi-
cal orientation of concept.)
80. H. P. Fairchild, p. 34: "The other fonn of incompetence, which may be
called 'maladjustment: does not imply any lack on the part of the indi-
vidual himself..... The man is all right, but he is not in the right place.
Our immigrants furnish abundant examples of this form of incompe-
tence ..... But the foreigner is not by any means the sole example of mal-
adjustment. Our modem life, particularly our modem city life, teems
with cases of this sort." J. H. S. Bossard (a), p. 110 (under "The Immi-
grant's Problem of Adjustment"): "To most persons, life consists in large
measure of habitual responses to the demands of a fairly fixed environ-
ment. When man changes his environment, new and perhaps untried re-
sponses are called for. New adjustments must be made, as we say." J. L.
Gillin (b), p. 10: "Social pathology .... arises out of the maladjustment be-
tween the individual and the social struchlre." Elliott and Merrill, p. 22:
"Just as an effective social organization implies a harmony between indi-
vidual and social interests, so a disorganized social order must involve a
conflict between individual and social points of view."
81. Gillin, Dittmer, and Colbert, pp. 16-17: "By socializntioll we mean the di-
recting of human motives toward giving to 'even the least' of the mem-
bers of the social whole the benefits of cultural development.
socialization is thus practically the opposite to aloofness, selfishness, greed,
exploitatioll, and profiteerillg. It causes the individual and the group to fcel
their olleness with the social whole ..... In brief, what society regards as
lIIoral, i.e., good for the whole, becomes the aim of socialized individuals
and groups. This being true, the improvement of society rests to it very
large extent upon moml progress."
82. See Queen and Gruener, Social Pat!lOlogt;: Obstacles to Social Participation.
T},,,,,,,,, ".,~h .... r" ,At .... ,'1rl rlP"" fhl" rr> .... rl'" nf "t"t<:>rr>","t h •• t ,,,.,..,h "",,.1... ,, 1 rl",_
106 Social Disorganization
nials must be tested against what they have done and the framework
they have actually employed in defining pathologies. Their criterion of
the pathological is correctly indicated in the subtitle of their book. Elliott
and Merrill, p. 580: "There are various criteria by which the degree of in-
dividual participation may be measured roughly .... whether or not he
votes at elections .... the individual's ownership of real or personal prop-
erty .... the degree of specific interest in conununity activities may be
roughly measured by the number and character of the institutions to
which the individual belongs, as well as the voluntary community activi-
ties in which he participates. Communities in which there is a high per-
centage of individuals with a positive rating on the items listed above
are logically those which are the most highly organized and efficient:'
(Note the character of the institutions, participation in which is defined
as organized.)
83. See above documentation; notice the Protestant ethical accent on ufilihj
and what it will do for one, apparently irrespective of social fact: Gillin,
Dittmer, and Colbert, p. 106: "People who are useful, no matter what
happens to be their race or calor, come to be liked and respected. Conse-
quently, the central aim of a sound educational program should be to
teach people to be useful. (Hart, Homell, The Science of Social Relations,
1927, pp. 521-524.)" In the follOWing, note tlle norm of competitiveness:
Elliott and Merrill, pp. 29-30: "Often, however, the individual cannot or
will not compete. We then have the following pathological manifesta-
tions: ' .... the depelldent .... who is unable to compete; the defective .... who
is, if not lUlable, at least handicapped in his efforts to compete. The crimi-
nal, on the other hand, ....who is perhaps lUlable, but at any rate refuses,
to compete according to the rules which society lays down: (Park and
Burgess, IlItroduction to the Sciellce of Sociology, p. 560.)" Among the traits
thought to characterize lithe good life from the standpoint of the individ-
ual," Odum, pp. 50-51, cites: "patience," "specialized knowledge of
some particular thing," "slull," "optimism," "love of work," "dynamic
personality," "moderation," "trained will power," etc. Cf., in this connec-
tion, K. Davis, "Mental Hygiene and the Class Structure," Psychiatnj:
[oul'llnl of the Biology and PatllOlogy of Interpersonal Relntions, February
1938, pp. 55~65.
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 107
Contemporary Application
10 Community Structure and Drug Use:
From a Social Disorganization Perspective
FINN-AAGE ESBENSEN and DAVID HUIZINGA
Public opinion polls reveal that the American population is now at least
as much concerned about the" drug epidemic" as about crime (Kraska
1990). Despite this concern, knowledge of the causes and correlates of
drua use is still lacking. Although the prevalence and the frequency of
dru~ use have been monitored (e.g., Baclunan, Johnston, and O'Nlalley
1986: Elliott, Huizinga, and Ageton 1985; Kandel 1980) and U,e rela-
tionship between delinquency and drug use has been investigated (Clay-
ton 1981; Elliott et al. 1985; Goldstein 1985; Huizinga, Menard, and
Elliott 1989; Inciardi 1981; Jessor and Jessor 1977; Johnson and Wish
1986), little research has examined the influence of macro-level variables
on drug use. Existing research has focused almost exclusively upon
micro-level variables such as family variables (e.g., Brook, Lukoff, and
Whiteman 1977, 1980), peef factors (e.g., Elliott et a1. 1985; Huba, Win-
sard, and Bentler 1979; Jessor and Jessor 1977; Kande11973, 1974, 1978a,
1978b, 1978c, 1980, 1982; Kaplan 1985), and social psychological vari-
ables such as self-derogation (Kaplan, Marlin and Robbins 1982), self-es-
teem (Dinitz and Pfau-Vincent 1982), and attitudes toward deviance
(Elliott, Huizinga, and Menard 1989).
The social disorganization perspective recently has received con-
siderable attention from delinquency researchers (e.g., Bursile] 986; Bur-
Reprinted from Finn-Aage Esbensen and O;wid Huizinga, "Community Structure and
Dmg Use: From a Social Disorganization Perspective," by permission of the authors and
the Academy of Crimil1<1l justice Sciences. Copyright ID 1990 by Academy of Criminal
Justice Sciences.
An e<lrlier version of this paper was presented at the 1989 anllual meeting of the
Academy of Criminal justice Sciences, Washington, DC. Funding for this research waS
provided by the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, Office of Justice
Programs, US DepMtment of Justice (1/86-JN-CX-006) <lnd the National Institute of
Drug Abuse (#DA-05183). ICPSR provided the cenSllS data tape necessary for the eco-
logical analysis reported here. Points uf view or opinions expressed in this p<lper are
those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the official position or policies of
these agencies. We would like 10 thank Lindil Cunningham, Meg Dyer, Linda Kuhn,
Judy Lauric, and Juciy Perry for their assistance in the collection of these cla\<I, and Scatt
Menard, Anne Wciher and IQ's anonymuus reviewers for their helpful comments on an
 108 Social Disorganizalion
sik and Webb 1982; Fagan, Piper and Moore 1986: Heitgard and Bursik
1987; Johnstone 1978, 1983; Laub 1983; Sampson 1985; Sampson and
Groves 1989; Schuerman and Kobrin 1986; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz
1986; Stark 1987; Taylor and Covington 1988). To our knowledge, how-
ever, no attempt has been made to study drug use from this macro-level
approach. In this paper we examine the extent to which community-
level explanations can be applied not only to drug use, but also to rnro
characteristics of the drug-using situation-reasons for use and loca-
tion of use.
Much of the criminological research and theory development of the
twentieth century has focused upon individual levels of explanation.
Even the Durkheimian concept of anomie has been individualized by
survey researchers (see, for example, the discussion by Famworth and
Leiber 1989). The sodal ecology tradition of the Chicago School and par-
ticularly of Shaw and McKay has persisted since its introduction, how-
ever, and has experienced a resurgence in prominence in the recent past
(e.g., Bursik 1986, Heitgard and Bursik 1987; Sarnpson 1987; Sarnpson
and Groves 1989; Stark 1987; Taylor and Covington 1988).
The early work of Shaw and McKay (1942), as well as replications
conducted during the 1950s and 1960s (Bordua 1958-59; Chilton 1964;
Lander 1954; Quinney 1964), relied upon census data to measure neigh-
borhood characteristics and upon official measures of crime and delin-
quency (i.e., police records) to indicate illegal activity. In his review of
ecological studies, Baldwin (1979) cited the use of official statistics as a
serious weakness, noting that these data have been criticized for a vari-
ety of reasons.1 In more recent works, however, both self-report and vic-
timization data have been used to measure crime (e.g., Fagan et al. 1986;
Johnstone 1978, 1983; Kapsis 1978; Sarnpson 1985).
Baldwin raised another methodological concern: that the social ecol-
ogy approach assumed erroneously that social areas are homogeneous.
In an early critique of Shaw and McKay's work, Jonassen (1949) had
identified this assumption as a fallacy, claiming that not all people re-
siding in the same neighborhood have similar life experiences and that
intra-area differences might exist. Both of these authors suggest that dif-
ferences exist between individuals within these areas and that certain
subgroups may respond differently to environmental conditions. As
Jonassen (1949:613) points out, for example, Shaw and McKay ac-
knowledged that Orientals had preserved the old world cultures and
institutions to such an extent that control of the child was sufficiently ef-
fective to keep delinquency and other forms of deviant behavior at a
minimum. Thus the macro-level aspect of social disorganization theory
cannot explain all variation in individual behavior; in fact, it was never
intended to nn so_ RRthpr. thp npr<::nprHup <::l1o-o-P<;t<; th<>t TlP;rrhhr"·hr",,,-l
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 109
characteristics influence persons (or some significant segment of resi-
dents) living in the neighborhood to a sufficient extent that a global
characterization of their behavior reflects that influence.
Related to the homogeneity of socially disorganized areas is the
issue of the distribution of neighborhood characteristics across areas
identified as socially disorganized. This issue may well be associated
with the fact that no precise definition of social disorganization exists.
Kornhauser (1978:120) defined social disorganization as the inability of
a community structure to realize the common values of its residents and
to maintain effective social controls. In practice, however, many factors
may influence social control. Social disorganization traditionally has
been defined in terms of the census variables selected by a researcher;
and once they have been selected, it is often assumed that these com-
munity descriptors are distributed uniformly among the various "so-
cially disorganized" areas. Social ecology studies, market segmentation
studies, and some delinquency research (e.g., Cartwright and Howard
1966; Tryon 1955; Tryon and Bailey 1970), however, have shown that
this is not usually the case and that communities or neighborhoods may
be characterized by specific subsets of variables. Schuerman and
Kobrin (1986) found, for example, that neighborhoods could be differ-
entiated on four different dimensions-land use, demographic charac-
teristics, socioeconomic characteristics, and subcultural variables-and
that crime rates varied according to the dominant structural character-
istic of the community.
To date, however, the majority of criminology researchers testing
social disorganization theory have treated the concept as a homoge-
neous variable defined by some combination of census variables. Re-
gardless of the operational definition employed, prior studies have
corroborated Shaw and McKay's findings that a positive relationship
exists between levels of social disorganization and official crime rates
(e.g., Fagan et a1. 1986; Heitgard and Bursik 1987; Johnstone 1978; Laub
1983; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz 1986).
Another concern raised recently is that most of the previous researdl
using the macro-level social disorganization perspective has omitted an
important component of the Shaw and McKay model-the role of fac-
tors mediating between social disorganization and behavior. In their re-
cent publication, Sampson and Groves highlight this problem; they write
that "the crux of the problem is that previous macro-level research in
crime and delinquency has relied primarily on census data that rarely
provide measures for the variables hypothesized to mediate the rela-
tionship betvveen community structure and crime" (1989:775). Two no-
table exceptions to this tendency are studies reported by Johnstone
110Q':I\ ~~...1 hT' C;~~I~~ C~~~" """...1 C~h ...... ~l ...,. 11 OQt::\ 1"1~ ...... j . " .... , , ,. ........ 1... ; ........ ...1
 110 Social Disorganization
~lements of Hirschi's social control theory with the social disorganiza-
tion approach while examining gang recruitment. He found that "the
opportunity to gang is established by the external social environment,
but the decision to do so is governed by social and institutional attach-
ments and by definitions of self" (1983:296). Similarly, Simcha-Fagan
and Schwartz (1986) report on the importance of examining individual-
level variables as well as community contextual factors.
TIus discussion raises important questions for the study of com-
munity-level characteristics and drug use. First and foremost is the need
to address the criticism that socially disorganized neighborhoods are
not homogeneous. Although previous researchers used factor analytic
t~chniques to identify the underlying dimensions of social disorganiza-
tIOn (e.g., poverty, mobility, density), they treated socially disorganized
areas as if they uniformly possessed the identified characteristics. In
fact, however, these areas may have quite different values on the de-
scriptive variables used to determine social disorganization. Our re-
search follows the procedures of social area analysis, employing cluster
or profile analysis to determine whether these qualities are distributed
differentially among neighborhoods.
. A second issue is whether drug use is affected by community factors
ID the same manner as delinquency and crime appear to be influenced. In
view of the widely documented relationship between delinquency and
drug use, it would not be surprising to find a relationship between macro-
level variables and rates of drug use. Elliott et al., for example, report
that "prior delinquency and involvement in delinquent peer groups are
the ~ain factors directly influencing both delinquency and drug use, and
that ID many cases the hvo predictor variables provide a reasonably good
estimation of the level of involvement in delinquency and drug use"
(1985:118). Numerous other studies have documented similar etiological
paths for delinquency and drug use (e.g., Donovan and Jessor 1984; Hin-
delang and Weis 1972; Huizinga et al. 1989; Jessor, Graves, Hanson, and
Jessor 1968; Kande11978a, 1980; White, Pandina, and La Grange 1987).
Of particular interest, however, is whether differences in drug use exist
between different types of socially disorganized areas, and if so, what
characteristics are associated with high and low rates of use.
A third issue is whether mediating factors that help to explain drug
u~e can be idenlified. We will attempt to do this by incorporating inter-
Vlew data into the analysis. Specifically, as part of a larger focus on drug
use Situations, questions about the reasons for use and the location of
use were asked. In this research note, answers to those questions are
used as preliminary indicators of whether different learning patterns
and different opportunities for use exist in different contextual areas.
We oo.<;tul<ltp thfl~ rp<::nnn<::p<:: tn thp<::p rllH,><;:l-innc tot"" ...",fl",,-.f- 1 \ <'I-.-. ,,.,h,~~l
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 111
conditions in neighborhoods tllat affect where youths congregate and
engage in drug use and 2) different learning environments that reflect
neighborhood values associated with drug use.
The question about where drug-using behaviors occurred was
asked, in part, to determine whether differential definitions regarding
the appropriateness of deviant behavior in a variety of settings helped to
explain rates of drug use. Do adolescents in different neighborhoods
define different places, such as home, school, parks, or other phYSical 10-
cations, as drug-USing environments? Learning theorists such as Sutller-
land and Akers would hypothesize that if this were the case, differences
in drug use might occur.
Similarly, learning theorists also would postulate that motivations
for and definitions favoring involvement in deviant behavior are learned
in interaction with significant otllers. Findings from the National Youth
Survey, for instance, highlight the importance of the peer group in the
initiation of both delinquency and drug use (Elliott et a1. 1985). In
Sutherland's presentation of differential association theory, Proposition
4 specifies that criminal behavior is learned: "The learning includes (a)
techniques of committing the crime ... ; and (b) the specific direction of
motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes" (Sutllerland and Cressey
1970:76). Likewise, in Akers's reformulation of differential association
theory, Proposition 6 states: "The probability that a person will commit
deviant behavior is increased in the presence of normative statements,
definitions, and verbalizations which, in this process of differential re-
inforcement of such behavior over conforming behavior, have acquired
discriminative value" (1985:41). In this vein, adolescents will learn, de-
pending on social environmental stimuli, to apply culturally approved
definitions as rationalizations for their involvement in drug-using be-
havior-that is, in their "reasons for use." Different types of communi-
ty structures may foster different interactional patterns and the
subsequent creation of different learning environments.
METHODS
The research reported here is part of a longitudinal study investigating
the caUSes and correlates of delinquency and drug use in a "high-risk"
sample. 2 Census data were used to identify "high-risk" neighborhoods
in a large midwestern city. From these neighborhoods a probability sam-
ple of households was selected and interviews were conducted with
1,530 youths between the ages of 7 and 15 and with one of each youth's
parents. The data used here are self-reported measures of dlug use ob-
~;linprl frnlTl thp V(lllth<:: rhlrino-;m hmlr-lnno- intprlf;p""
112 Social Disorganiza tion 10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 113

SAMPLE AND ECOLOGICAL AREAS StrUctUIe, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, housing, rnobilitYt marital status,
and age composition. A factor analysis (principal components with vari-
Because of the design of the larger study and the need to ensure suffi-
wax rotation) of variables within each of these seven conceptual domains
cient numbers of serious or chronic juvenile offenders, "high-risk"
resulted in the identification of 11 distinct factors (eigenvalues greater
neighborhoods were identified from which to select prospective re-
than 1.0 and skree criteria were used in determining the number of fac-
spondents. High-risk neighborhoods were defined as areas character-
tors). Table 10.1 reports the factor loadings and the variance explained
ized by both "social disorganization" and a high official crime rate. That
by th~ fact~r~ within each domain. Four of the theoretically derived con-
is, we defined high risk not only in accordance with the consistent find-
cepts IdentifIed above produced two distinct factors. The socioeconomic
ings of the social disorganization literature, which reveal higher rates
doma~, for exam.ple, resulted in the identification of an upper-SES factor
of involvement in delinquent activities in neighborhoods characterized
(e.g., high education, household income over $40,000, and professional
by "social disorganization," but also according to the crime rates.
and managerial occupations) and a lower-SES factor (e.g., families in
On the basis of the results of earlier studies, we selected 35 variables
poverty, incomes under $10,000, and laborer occupations).
from the 1980 census data representing seven conceptual areas: family

TABLE 10.1 CONTINUED

TABLE 10.1 NEIGHBORHOOD CONCEPTUAL FACTOR ANALYSIS
Unemployed -.05 .73
CONCEPT 1. FAMILY STRUCTURE: 4 VARIABLES = 2 FACTORS 71.4% OF VARIANCE Unemployed school dropouts -.12 .55
Factor #1: Family Household Factor 1 Factor 2 CONCEPT IV. HOUSING: 5 = 2 FACTORS
VARIABLES 75.3 % OF VARIANCE
Nonfamily household -.80 -.15
Married couple vvith children .79 .19 Factor #7: Rental Factor 7 Factor 8
Households without own children .66 -.50 Renter-occupied .BB .10
Vacant housing units .76 .07
Factor #2: Single-Parent Household Dwelling unit density .91 -.21
Single-parent families .20 .88
Factor #8: Housing Density
CONCEPT Il. ETHNICITI (RACIAL MIX) = 2 FACTORS 68.9% OF VARIANCE Median persons per household -.29 .B1
Household density .31 .BO
Factor #3: Ethnic Diversity Factor 3 Factor 4
Racial diversity .85 .18
CONCEPT V. MODlun-: 3 VARIABLES =1 FACTOR 66.1 % OF VARIANCE
Percent Hispanic .83 .02
Percent other. .59 -.04 Factor #9: Mobility Factor 9
Tenure at current address .86
Factor #4: Predominantly Black Mobility outside country .87
Percent black -.04 .92 No mobility -.68
Percent white -.13 -.B7
CONCEPT VI. MARITAL STATUS: 4 VARIABLES = 1 FActOR 50% OF VARIANCE
CONCEPT Ill. SOCIQ[;CONOMIC! 11 VAlUABLES = 2 FActORS 67.6% OF VARIANCE Factor #10: Nonmarried Factor 10
Factor #5: High SES Factor 5 Factor 6 Percent married -.53
Median education .87 .25 Percent single .67
Higher education .86 -.23 Percent separated .76
Median household income .84 -.26 Percent divorced .81
Professional and managerial .86 -.25
House value .72 -.30 CONCEPT VII. POPULATION COl\-IPOSmoN: 3 VARIABLES = 1 FACTOR 79.6% OFVARJANCE
Households over $40,000 .74 -.35 Factor #11: Aged Factor 11
Factor #6: Low SES Percent persons 65 and over .94
Service and laborer -.20 .80 Mean age .86
Households under $10,000 -.22 .B2 Percent widowed .86
Families in poverty -.20 .76
 114 Social Disorganization
A cluster analysis (K-means with iterative relocation) was subse-
quently run to combine and identify similar block groups of the city.
Seven distinct clusters emerged, with three clusters very loosely identi-
fied in the conceptual approach as being "socially disorganized" and
as providing some variation in ecological characteristics. The first clus-
ter or grouping of block groups is economically disadvantaged, with
high rates of poverty and unemployment and high numbers of unem-
ployed, school-dropout youths. It also has a high racial mix (white,
black, and Hispanic) and high rates of single-parent households and
persons per room (density). This cluster will be referred to hereafter as
"traditional" in that is composed of variables generally associated with
socially disorganized neighborhoods. The second cluster is also eco-
nomically disadvantaged, although not as severely as the first; it con-
tains a highly mobile population consisting of many unmarried persons
and few intact families, and many multiple-unit dwellings. The third
cluster is a predominantly minority (black) cluster vvith higher than av-
erage rates of Single-parent and unmarried-person households, and high
rates of persons per room. These last two clusters will be referred to as
"dense" and "black" respectively, to indicate their primary identifying
features.
The geographic areas covered by these clusters include areas iden-
tified by arrest data from the Denver Police Department as having high
crime rates. Using arrest data, we identified those neighborhoods with-
in the socially disorganized areas which were in the upper one-third of
the crime distribution.3 These socially disorganized high-crime areas
became the neighborhoods for inclusion in the study sample. Although
this sample selection precludes generalizations to the total disorganized
areas, it ensures the youths living in these areas are likely to be in high-
ly criminogenic environments as well. It is to these joint disorganized
high-crime areas that findings apply.
SELECTION OF RESPONDENTS
The overall design of the research project is based on a prospective se-
quentiallongitudinal survey. The longitudinal survey involves a se-
quence of annual personal interviews with a probability sample of five
different birth cohorts selected from the areas of high risk for delin-
quency. At the first annual survey, the birth cohorts were 7, 9, 11, 13, and
15 years of age. If it is assumed that the period effects between adjacent
cohorts are not too large, the use of these birth cohorts (samples) results
in overlapping age ranges during the course of the study that will allow
examination of developmental sequences across the full age span from
7 to 18.
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 115
To select the individuals to be included in the sample of each of the
five birth cohorts, a probability sample of households based on a strat-
ified sampling design of the selected neighborhoods was used. Wlthm
the group of selected households, we identified those which con tamed
an eligible respondent (Le., a person aged 7, 9, 11, 13, or 15) through an
initial household screening questionnaire.
A full enumeration of the high-risk neighborhoods resulted in the
identification of more than 48,000 households within the selected neigh-
borhoods. On the basis of estimated vacancy and completion rates, a
sample of 20,300 households was selected for an ~itial ~creenn:g phase.
The sampling procedure resulted in completed mtervIews With 1,530
youths distributed across the five cohorts (a completion rate of 85%
among identified eligible youths).
RESULTS
As the first point of interest, let us reiterate that we found three dis~ct
types of socially disorganized areas. Although all three of the denved
clusters can be described as socially disorganized, different patterns of
variables characterize each cluster. Thus the "traditional" cluster consists
of block groups with a concentration of unemployed people, persons
employed as laborers and service workers, and a high per-unit density,
whereas the "dense" cluster shares only the occupation variable. Simi-
larly, few of the identifying characteristics of the "dense" cluster are
shared by the "black" cluster. After identifying these different types of
socially disorganized areas, the next issue of concern IS to determme
whether different patterns of behavior exist in these neighborhoods and
whether different mediating factors help to explain the relationship be-
tween community characteristics and behavior.
SAMPLE CHARACTERISTICS AND DRUG USE
Table 10.2 summarizes sample characteristics and also proVides data on
the proportion of respondents who reported ever having .used .alcoh.ol,
marijuana, and other drugs. 4 As might be expected, there 15 a duect lm-
ear relationship between age and use of drugs. By age 15, over half of the
cohort had tried alcohol, almost one-quarter had smoked marijuana,
and 8 percent had used one of the other drugs. Slight differences ap-
pear for different racial groups; whites have higher rates of alcohol and
"other drug" use, and Hispanics and others report higher prevalence
rates for marijuana use. No differences were found by sex, and only a
116 Social Disorganization 10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 117

of socially disorganized neighborhoods, these differences did not ap-

TABLE 10.2 PERCENTAGES OF RESPONDENTS EVER USING ALCOHOL, pear to affect substantially either the prevalence or the frequency of
MARIJUANA, AND OTHER DRUGS, 1988 drug use.
RACE SEX
WHITE BtACK HISPANIC OTHER MALE FEMALE REASONS FOR USE AND LOCATION OF USE

Alcohol 34.5 28.2 24.4 24.5 b 26.5 27.1 A second issue of interest for the current analysis was the possibility
Marijuana 5.8 5.4 9.2 13.6b 6.7 8.2 that different variables mediate between neighborhood charact~ristics
Other DrugsC 4.8 .8 2.1 1.6c 1.8 1.9 and actual behavior. To examine this issue, two follow-up questions
N 153 549 646 181 801 728
10°/" 36% 42% 12% 52% 48%
were asked of those youths indicating some level of alcohol or marijua-
na use in the prior year. They were first asked where they used the drug
and then why they used the drug. Multiple responses were recorded in
YEAR OF BlRTHa CLUSTER the event that the youth was a frequent user and used the drug in mul-
72 74 76 78 80 TRAD DENSE BLACK tiple settings.
A test of the relationship between these mediating variables and
Alcohol 55.4 37.7 18.3 15.4 12.5d 24.5 29.3 29.9 b
Marijuana 23.4<1 13.4 2.4 0.0 .3d 8.4 5.6 6.3 drug use revealed that most alcohol was consumed at home or at a
Other Drugs'! 8.2 1.8 .3 2.0 2.0 1.3 friend's house and that there was no difference across neighborhoods
N 270 301 330 315 343 864 230 439 (Table 10.5). For marijuana, however, neighborhood differences appear
18°/,) 20% 20% 21% 22% 56% 15% 29°J" to exist. Friend's house was mentioned again by many of the respon-
dents, but this response was much more common in the dense neigh-
"Yeilr of birth is used 10 represent the 15-, 13-, 11-, 9-, ,md 7-ycilr-old cohorts.
borhood. Conversely, none of the youths in the dense neighborhood
bp '= .10 based on chi-square.
reported using marijuana at school, whereas 26 percent of youths in
"p = .05 based on chi-sgUilfC.
the black neighborhood and 42 percent of those in the traditional .~rea
d p '" .01 based 011 chi-square.
reported use at school. Youths appear to use both alcohol and marIJua-
• "Other drug" use not ilsked of the 7- and 9-yeilr-old cohorts.
na in multiple settings, and these settings appear to vary by trl?e of
neighborhood. Because of forced busing in the city, the noted dlffer-
ence in marijuana use at school can not be dismissed as an artifact of
neighborhood schools, due either to physical layout or to monitoring of
The primary interest in this paper was to examine drug use from a students.s
social disorganization perspective. Further analyses therefore were con- Reasons for use of alcohol and marijuana also reflect some varia-
ducted on those youths who reported some degree of drug use during tion by neighborhood type. (See Table 10.6.) For alcohol, "curiosity" and
the prior year (in this case 1987). Users were divided into experimenters U for use in celebration" were the most common responses; the latter
(one or two uses), dabblers (three to 11 uses), and regulars (12 or more was the only statistically significant relationship by neighborhood.
uses). Tables 10.3 and 10.4 report the results for alcohol and marijuana Youths living in the black area were less likely than others to report cel-
use. There were too few cases in the "other drug" category to merit fur- ebration as a reason for use, whereas it was the most common reason
ther analysis. given by youths in the dense area. For marijuana, 56 percent of the
Despite the slight difference in ever prevalence rates by neighbor- youths in the traditional area reported getting high as the reason for
hood, there were no statistically significant differences in frequency use. Youths in the other neighborhoods cited this reason much less fre-
of alcohol or marijuana use during the previous year. It appeared, quently. Almost one-quarter of the youths in the black area used mari-
however, that marijuana use was slightly greater among subjects in juana to be accepted or to be popular with friends. Only 9 percent of
the "traditional" socially disorganized neighborhood than elsewhere. the youths living in the other two areas mentioned this as a reason. As
These data suggest that although there are qualitatively different types with alcohol. curiosity was cited bv a large number of youths, but there
 10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 119
118 Social Disorganization

LOCATION OF USE OF ALCOHOL AND MARIJUANA, BY TYPE OF

TABLE 10.3 F[{EQUENCY OF ALCOHOL USE DURING FRIOR YEAR, BY TYPE TABLE 10.5 a
OF SOClALLY DISORGANIZED NEIGHBORHOOD SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NElGHBORHOOD

ALCOHOL MARIJUANA
FREQUENCY OF USE TRADITIONAl. DENSE BLACK TOTAL
TRADI-
TRADI-
Experimenters 105 33 66 203 TIONAL DENSE BLACK TIONAL DENSE BLACK
50% 49% 50% 49%
65% 60% 18% 27% 26%
Dabblers 67 26 48 141 Home 55%
7% 42% 0% 26%b
School 8% 4%
32% 38% 37% 34% 53% 73% 48%b
Friend's House 35% 23% 32%
Regulars 40 9 17 66 2% 4% 7% 18% 13%
Park 7%
13% 13% 16% 12% 10% 0% 9%C
19% Party 16% 21%
15% 1% 0% O%C
Relative's House 9% 12%
Total 212 68 131 411
18% 16% 0% 17'}'<)
Other 13% 18%
52% 17% 32% 74 13 27
N 211 66 133
Chi-square;:;; 3.16 p=ns
, Multiple responses tabulated, su percentages do not add to 100.
t, P '" .001 based on chi·square.
c p not calculated beciluse of expected cell frequencies of less than 5.
TABLE 10.4 FREQUENCY OF MARIJUANA USE DURING PRlOR YEAR, BY TYPE
OF SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NE1GHBORHOOD

FREQUENCV OF USE TRADITIONAL DENSE BLACK TOTAL

Experimenters 27 7 16 50 TABLE 10.6 REASONS FOR USE OF ALCOHOL AND MARIJUANA, BY TYPE OF
54% 57% 44% a
37.5% SOCIALLY DISORGANIZED NEIGHBORHOOO
Dabblers 23 3 5 33 MARIJUANA
ALCOHOL
32% 38% 18% 29%
TRADi- TRADi-
Regulars 22 1 7 30 TIONAL DENSE BLACK TIONAL DENSE BLACK
30.5% 8°/') 25% 27%
22% 56% 18% 36%d
Total 72 13 28 113 Get High 29% 20%
16% 9% 9% 23%C
64% 12% 25% Be Accepted 8% 6%
43% 51% 37% 46% 32%
Curiosity 49%
60% 39%h 11% 9% 5%
Chi-square -= 6.12 P = .12 Celebra tion 46%
11% 6% 16% 18% 14%
Boredom 9%
6% 15% 12% 27% 14%
Other 22%
154 41 80 67 13 26
N

were no statistically significant differences for this reason by neighbor- o Multiple responses tabulated, 50 percentages do not add to 100.
hood. bp'" .05 based on chi-square.
While not earth-shattering, the findings reported here suggest that c p == .01 based on chi-square.
there are differences in drug use by the location of use and the reason for d p = .001 based Ort chi-square.
use of marijuana. This fineting suggests that different mediating factors
might help to explain drug-USing behavior in different neighborhoods.
 120 Social Disorganiza lion
It is important, then, not only to explain rates of behavior but also to
explain where and why adolescents learn to rationalize or justify their
behaviors.
DISCUSSION
Whereas prior research often treated social disorganization as a homo-
geneous concept, our first finding in this analysis was that different
combinations of census data identified different types of socially disor-
ganized neighborhoods. When the theoretical constructs defining social
disorganization were included in a cluster analysis, three distinct clus-
ters emerged. 111ese three different types of neighborhoods, while shar-
ing some elements of social disorganization, were unique in the sense
that they were characterized by specific subsets of factors originally
identified by Shaw and McKay (1942). Although delinquency re-
searchers have found such different combinations of variables to be as-
sociated with delinquency in a general population (e.g., Schuerrnan and
Korbin 1986), this was not the case (at least with druo- use) in the three
different types of socially disorganized neighborhoods studied in this
paper. Rates of alcohol and marijuana _lise, both ever prevalence and
frequency of use in the past year, were found to be similar for different
types of socially disorganized areas.
Although we did not find variation in rates of drug use, it appeared
that different mediating factors examined help to explain why adoles-
cents use drugs. It may be, as Erikson (1966) commented, that all soci-
eties establish a quota or level of deviance necessary for the maintenance
of a collective conscience and for boundary setting; drug use or experi-
mentation among adolescents may be a part of this process.
Schwendinger and Schwendinger (1985), among others, suggest that
adolescent culture is a response to the pressures (economic, emotional,
and SOcial) placed upon these disenfranchised members of society. It is
interesting to note that although no substantial differences existed in
location or reason for use of alcohol, differences were found for mari-
juana. With alcohol being a legal drug, although proscribed for adoles-
cents, its legal and social status, as well as its availability, make its use
more normative than is the use of marijuana.
Marijuana use is more of a deviant subcultural behavior, and con-
sequently may be more of an adolescent subcultural phenomenon as
well. This perspective helps to explain why alcohol is reported to be
used by a majority of respondents at home, most frequently out of cu-
riosity or as part of a celebration. As a normative drug advertised on
10. Finn-Aage Esbensen and David Huizinga 121
TV and portrayed as a legitimate business enterprise in the sponsor-
ship of athletic events, alcohol does not have the same countercultur-
al reputation as marijuana (e.g., Adler 1985; Becker 1963). Survey
respondents did not mention celebrating as a reason for marijuana
use. More frequently, its use was justified in terms of adolescent sub-
cultural values-getting high, being accepted, and for curiosity or ex-
perimentation.
Schwendinger and Schwendinger (1985), while presenting a Marx-
ian analysis in their study of adolescent subcultures, offer an explanation
not inconsistent with that presented in this study. They propose "that
certain stratified networks of adolescent groups mediate the relation-
ships between macroscopic social processes (including socioeconomic
conditions) and the model patterns of delinquency occurring among
peer groups. These delinquent patterns involve lifecycle changes and
learned outlooks in adolescent groups on all class levels" (Schwendinger
and Schwendinger 1985:xiii). Similarly, marijuana use occurred more
frequently in places where adolescent groups congregated and were
able to avoid adult supervision-i.e., school and friends' homes.
In tllis analysis we applied tl1e traditional social ecology approach to
the study of drug use and found that community descriptors are not
distributed uniformly among socially disorganized areas. This conclu-
sion confirms the findings from market segmentation research and from
some delinquency research, namely that subtypes or segments of com-
munities may exist that help predict the behavior of their residents (e.g.,
Cartwright and Howard 1966; Schuerman and Korbin 1986; Tryon 1955;
Tryon and Bailey 1970). Therefore it is important for future research en-
deavors to evaluate carefully not only the conceptualization of social
disorganization but also the operationalization of this theoretical con-
struct.
In addition, we extended the typical social disorganization research
by examining the role of mediating factors on drug use. Our findings
confinn the importance of examining individual-level variables in ad-
dition to community contextual variables, a procedure advocated re-
cently by some delinquency researchers (e.g., Johnstone 1983; Sampson
and Groves 1989; Simcha-Fagan and Schwartz 1986). Learning theory
(e.g., Akers 1985; Sutherland and Cressey 1970) and individual-level
data that permit investigation of interactional patterns are essential com-
ponents for understanding how different levels and types of social dis-
organization affect behavior. In this sense these findings support the
potential importance of mediating variables in social ecology research;
we hope that others will seek to examine further this neglected compo-
nent of social disorganization theory.

122 Social Disorganization
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NOTES
1. For a review of measurement problems attributed to official data, consult
Menard (1987) or Menard and Covey (1988).
2. This research is part of a larger program sponsored by the Office of Juve-
nile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, and involves companion projects
at the University of Pittsburgh and SUNY-Albany.
3. A number of block groups defined as socially disorganized did not have
high crime rates and therefore were excluded from the sample. Converse-
ly, block groups having high crime rates but not socially disorganized ac-
cording to our analysiS also were excluded from the high-risk sample.
Therefore our analysis does not attempt to explain drug use as a cause of
social disorganization. Rather, in view of the finding that distinct types of
socially disorganized commlmities exist in Denver, we attempt to deter-
126 Social Disorganization

mine whether different patterns of drug use are associated with different
mediating factors in these communities.
4. This c<ltegory consists of self-reported use of the following specific drugs:
tranquilizers, barbiturates, amphetamines, hallucinogens, cocaine, crack,
CHAPTER III
heroin, pep, and other unspecified drugs.
5. An analysis of schools attended by survey participants did not reveal a re-
lationship betvveen social area and school attended. Anomie

What happens to people when the limitations imposed on them by so-

ciallife are relaxed or are no longer binding? Are they likely to be more
content freed from the restraints and obligations of social life, or would
happiness be impossible if they were unencumbered by social rules?
And on the societallevel, would freedom from regulation by norms in-
crease or decrease social pathology? The readings in Chapter III explore
these questions by considering the relationships among human desires,
social structural conditions, and deviance.
The social disorganization theories discussed in Chapter IT focused
on the negative effects of social change on traditional ways of life, im-
plying that freedom from normative restraints is likely to lead to higher
rates of deviance. A£, a starting point, this chapter picks up on a similar
theme. The idea underlying Emile Durkheim's concept of anornie is that
during periods of sudden social change, the traditional rules of a society
or group become less binding on the individual members, and the hy-
pothesized result is increased deviance. 111is idea is extended by Robert
K. Merton to the deviance-producing difficulties that arise in societies
(such as the United States) that are characterized by considerable class or
etlmic stratification.
The first reading in this chapter, Reading 11, is from Durkheim's
Suicide. As one of sociology's earliest proponents, Durkheim was try-
ing to demonstrate how even a highly individualistic phenomenon such
as suicide can be explained in reference to social arrangements.
Durkheim postulates that happiness depends on a balance between in-
dividual desires and the possibility of fulfilling them. Humans have so-
cially induced appetites that are virtually insatiable; their needs and
desires are ever increasing and therefore limitless if unchecked. Unless
 128 Anomie
possible, they are bound to suffer permanent malaise. Durkheim com-
pares this to inextinguishable thirst, which is "constantly renewed tor-
ture." He maintains that "To pursue a goal which is by definition
unattainable is to condemn oneself to a state of perpetual unhappiness."
Since it is apparent that in order to escape the torment of unattain-
able aspirations, desires must be restrained, and since it is not in people's
nature to apply such restraints voluntarily, Durkheim concludes that
some external regulative force must be applied to establish limits. This
constraining force is society, which alone has the necessary power "to
stipulate law and to set the point beyond which passions must not go."
People are therefore dependent on societal norms to curb their limitless
desires and make their existence tolerable.
Under most conditions the normative restrictions are clear, and most
people adhere to them. But when there is social upheaval, as during an
economic crisis, they may find themselves in unfamiliar situations. The
limits of the possible and the impossible may then become unknown.
The resulting social condition is what Durkheim calls anornie, or a state
of normlessness. He argues that as anomie increases in a society, malaise
and despair will also increase, and so will indicators of pathology such
as the suicide rate.
Durkheirn also argues that modem, industrial societies can be ex-
pected to be far more afflicted with anomie and to have chronically high-
er suicide rates than less developed societies. This is because the
recurrent highs and lows in the economic cycles of modem societies,
coupled with their greater social mobility, continually subject their mem-
bers to anomie. Less developed societies, being more economically sta-
ble and socially rigid (though often highly stratified), have more
enduring normative patterns and therefore less anomie and lower sui-
cide rates. To this day, data comparing the suicide rates of developed
countries (relatively high) with those of developing countries (relative-
ly low) are consistent with Durkheim's anomie theory.
Durkheim attempts in Reading 11 to explain varying rates of what
historically has been regarded as a highly individualistic phenomenon,
suicide, by reference to a social condition-anomie. In Reading 12, Mer-
ton also seeks to show how social structures can exert pressure on cer-
tain persons to engage in deviant behavior.l Like Durkheim, he uses the
term al'LOmie to denote normlessness in a society, but he extends
Durkheim's explanation of its causes.
Merton argues that anomie arises in a society when there is an im-
balance of emphasis on the importance of attaining culturally valued
goals and the availability of legitimate, institutionalized means to reach
,these ~oals. TI1e requisite conditions for anornie are present when mem-
Anomie 129
minorities) are constantly informed through the media and popular wis-
dom that monetary success and its material rewards are positively val-
ued goals, while at the same time their experience tells them that the
legitimate means for achieving these goals are relatively unavailable to
them. As a result of this anomic condition within the society-the dis-
crepancy between means and ends-these individuals may maintain
their desires to achieve the culturally valued goals but reject the tradi-
tionally legitimate means for achieving them because these means are
not readily accessible. Merton suggests a typology of five ways in which
individuals occupying different positions in the social structure adapt to
anomie; they may conform, or tl1ey may engage in one of four deviant
adaptations. In Merton's terms, the first deviant adaptation is innova-
tion, which includes what is more commonly called crime; the other de-
viant adaptations are ritualism, retreatism, and rebellion.
Thus, whereas Durkheim attributes anomie to a breakdown or
deregulation of the norms in a society, so that they no longer effectively
control behavior, Merton accounts for anomie in the disparity betvveen
culturally accepted goals and the legitimate institutionalized means
available to achieve them. Further, Durkheim sees anomie as the out-
come of crisis situations in society, especially as the result of chronic
economic instability in modem countries. In contrast, Merton views
anornie as the outgrowth of a rather constant discrepancy in American
society between an overemphasis on success-oriented goals and a cor-
responding failure to provide equality of opportunity.
Merton's proposition that people in a society who do not find le-
gitimate means to success available are likely to turn to illegitimate
means is based on the assumption that illegitimate opportunities to
reach success goals will be available. In Reading 13, Richard Cloward
builds upon Merton's work by suggesting that such means may not be
equally accessible, just as legitimate means are not. He argues that there
are different illegal, as well as different legal, opportunity structures. As
a consequence, when legitimate means to success goals are blocked, the
likelihood that a person wilt for example, "innovate" (e.g., commit
crime) or "retreat" (e.g., take drugs), depends in large part on which
opportunities are most readily available. ll1us, taken together, Merton
and Cloward draw attention to the role of both legitimate and illegiti-
mate opportunity structures for the production and shaping of deviant
behavior. Cloward's examination of variations in the availability of ille-
gitimate means as an explanation for why certain people become de-
viant refers to Edwin Sutherland's work on the concept of differential
association, which is the topic of Chapter IV.
The Analysis and Critique section in this chapter, by Albert K.
130 Anomie
theory and serves as a bridge to a number of the theories that follow.
Cohen argues that although it claims to be sociological, Merton's ap-
proach is "in certain respects, atomistic and individualistic." The prob-
lem stems from its failure to account for social-psychological processes
in the explanation of how a person becomes deviant. For example, the
theory seems to assume that the dominant values in a society are inter-
nalized at about the same level by all its members. Cohen suggests it is
more realistic to consider the comparisons that people make with one
another as they settle on their individual levels of aspiration.
In addition, anomie theory treats the transition from conformity to
deviance as though it were an abrupt change. More accurately, Co hen
contends, deviance theory should recognize the processes a person goes
through-the tentative, groping, false starts and unintended actions-
that lead to a deviant role. These processes include the responses to de-
viance made by social control agents and "the process of progressive
involvement in, commitment to , and movement among social roles"
that an individual undergoes in establishing a deviant identity. Thus,
while people may be subject to the socially induced strain of anomie,
they may also be affected by role models, peer pressures, their self-
image, their perceptions of other people's reactions to their behavior,
and their power to defend the norms of their groups and their own be-
havior. Attempts to deal with such issues underlie the theories present-
ed in subsequent chapters.
The Contemporary Application selection on "Anomie and Corpo-
rat~ Deviance," Reading 15, by Nikos Passas, applies anomie theory
qUIte differently from the perspective's originators. Indeed, Merton's
formulation of the theory strongly implies that because legitimate av-
enues to reach success goals are least available to those in the lower
class, crime rates will be highest among lower-class individuals. Passas
argues that anomie spavmed by unattainable success goals afflicts even
the leaders of today'S giant corporations, people who are among the
most wealthy and powerful individuals in the world. Although this is
not exactly what Durkheim had in mind when he argued that anomie is
a ~ocial condition endemic to modern, industrial societies, Passas's ap-
plication of anomie theory to corporate deviance is perfectly consistent
with Durkheim's contention.
NOTE
1. Also see Robert K Merton, "Social Structure and Anomie," American
Sociological Review 3 (October 1938): 672.
11. Emile Durkheim 131
11 Anomic Suicide
EMILE DURKHEIM
No living being can be happy or even exist unless his needs are suffi-
ciently proportioned to his means. In other words, if his needs require
more tl~an can be granted, or even merely something of a different sort,
they WIll be under continual friction and can only function painfully.
Movements incapable of production without pain tend not to be repro-
duced. Unsatisfied tendencies atrophy, and as the impulse to live is
merely the result of all the rest, it is bound to weaken as the others relax.
.In the animal, at least in the normal condition, this equilibrium is es-
tablIshed with automatic spontaneity because the animal depends on
purely material conditions. All the organism needs is that the supplies of
substance and energy constantly employed in the vital process should be
peri.odically renewed by equivalent quantities; that replacement be
eqUIvalent to use. When the void created by existence in its own re-
sourc~s is filled, the animal, satisfied, asks nothing further. Its power of
reflectIOn is not sufficiently developed to imagine other ends than those
implicit in its physical nature. On the other hand, as the work demand-
ed of each organ itself depends on the general state of vital energy and
the needs of organic equilibrium, use is regulated in turn by replace-
ment and the balance is automatic. The limits of one are those of the
other; both are fundamental to the constitution of the existence in ques-
tion, which cannot exceed them.
This is not the case with man, because most of his needs are not de-
pendent on his body or not to tl1e same degree. Strictly speaking, we
may.consid:,r that the quantity of material supplies necessary to the
pl:yslcal mamtenance of a human life is subject to computation, though
thIS be less exact than in the preceding case and a wider margin left for
the free combinations of the will; for beyond the indispensable mini-
mum which satisfies nature when instinctive, a more awakened reflec-
tion suggests better conditions, seemingly desirable ends craving
fulfillment. Such appetites, however, admittedly sooner or later reach
a l~t which they cannot pass. But how determine the quantity of well-
bemg, comfort or luxury legitimately to be craved by a human being?
Nothing appears in man's organic nor in his psychological constitution
which sets a limit to such tendencies. The ftmctioning of individual life
does not require them to cease at one point ratl1er than at another; the
proof being that they have constantly increased since the beginnings of
Reprinted with the permission of The l:ree Press, <l Division of Simon & Schustef from
SlIicidl.' by Emile Durkheim, tr,msl<l\ed bv 10hl1 A. SDiluldinp ;mril.pnro-p <::;;n;,..,um
 132 Anomie
history, receiving more and more complete satisfaction, yet with no
weakening of average health. Above all, how establish their proper vari-
ation with different conditions of life, occupations, relative importance
of services, etc.? In no society are they equally satisfied in the different
stages of the social hierarchy. Yet human nature is substantially the same
among all men, in its essential qualities. It is not human nature which
can assign the variable limits necessary to our needs. They are thus un-
limited so far as they depend on the individual alone. Irrespective of
any external regulatory force, Qur capacity for feeling is in itself an in-
satiable and bottomless abyss.
But if nothing external can restrain this capacity, it can only be a
source of torment to itself. Unlimited desires are insatiable by defini-
tio~ a~d insatiability is rightly considered a sign of morbidity. Being
unDilUted, they constantly and infinitely surpass the means at their com-
mand; they cannot be quenched. Inextinguishable thirst is constantly
renewed torture. It has been claimed, indeed, that human activity natu-
rally aspires beyond assignable limits and sets itself unattainable goals.
But how can such an undetermined state be any more reconciled Witl1
the conditions of mental life than with the demands of physical life? All
man's pleasure in acting, moving and exerting himself implies tl1e sense
that his efforts are not in vain and that by walking he has advanced.
However, one does not advance when one walks toward no goal, or-
which is the same tlling-when Ilis goal is infinity. Since tl1e distance
between us and it is always the same, whatever road we take, we might
as well have made the motions without progress from the spot. Even
our glances behind and our feeling of pride at the distance covered can
cause only deceptive satisfaction, since the remaining distance is not
proportionately reduced. To pursue a goal which is by definition unat-
tainable is to condemn oneself to a state of perpetual unhappiness. Of
COUTse, man may hope contrary to all reason, and hope has its pleasures
even when unreasonable. It may sustain him for a time; but it cannot
survive the repeated disappointments of experience indefinitely. What
more can the future offer him than the past, since he can never reach a
tenable condition nor even approach the glimpsed ideal? Thus, the more
one has, the more one wants, since satisfactions received only stimulate
instead of filling needs. Shall action as such be considered agreeable?
First, only on condition of blindness to its uselessness. Secondly, for this
pleasure to be felt and to temper and half veil the accompanying painful
unrest, such unending motion must at least always be easy and un-
hampered. If it is interfered with only restlessness is left, with the lack of
ease which it, itself, entails. But it would be a miracle if no insurmount-
able obstacle were never encountered. Our thread of life on these con-
,... . ,... ; ..,., u ..... ~" ...."o ..
11. Emile Durkheim 133
To achieve any other result, the passions first must be limited. Only
then can tl1ey be harmonized with the faculties and satisfied. But since
the individual has no way of limiting them, this must be done by some
force exterior to him. A regulative force must play the same role for
moral needs which the organism plays for physical needs. This means
that the force can only be moral. The awakening of conscience inter-
rupted the state of equilibrium of the animal's dormant existence; only
conscience, therefore, can furnish the means to re-establish it. Physical
restraint would be ineffective; hearts cannot be touched by physico-
chemical forces. So far as the appetites are not automatically restrained
by physiological mechanisms, they can be halted only by a limit that
they recognize as just. Men would never consent to restrict their desires
if they felt justified in passing the assigned limit. But, for reasons given
above, they cannot assign themselves this law of justice. So they must re-
ceive it from an authority which they respect, to which tl1ey yield spon-
taneously. Either directly and as a whole, or through tl1e agency of one
of its organs, society alone can play this moderating role; for it is the
only moral power superior to the individual, the authority of wllich he
accepts. It alone has the power necessary to stipulate law and to set the
point beyond which the passions must not go. Finally, it alone can esti-
mate the reward to be prospectively offered to every class of human
functionary, in the name of the common interest.
As a matter of fact, at every moment of history there is a dim per-
ception, in the moral consciousness of societies, of the respective value
of different social services, the relative reward due to each, and the con-
sequent degree of comfort appropriate on the average to workers in
each occupation. The different ftmctions are graded in public opinion
and a certain coefficient of well-being assigned to each, according to its
place in the hierarchy. According to accepted ideas, for example, a cer-
tain way of living is considered the upper limit to which a workman
may aspire in his efforts to improve his existence, and there is another
limit below which he is not willingly permitted to fall unless he has se-
riously demeaned himself. Both differ for city and country workers, for
the domestic servant and the day-Iaborer, for the business clerk and of-
ficial, etc. Likewise the man of wealth is reproved if he lives the life of a
poor man, but also if he seeks the refinements of luxury overmuch.
Economists may protest in vain; public feeling will always be scandal-
ized if an individual spends too much wealth for wholly superfluous
use, and it even seems that this severity relaxes only in times of moral
disturbance. 1 A genuine regimen exists, therefore, although not always
legally formulated, which fixes with relative precision the maximum
degree of ease of living to which each social class may legitimately as-
~l"'n""';" nn~h;n,..,. ;.,.,.,.,,,f.,,l,Io ."h .....llf ""rh ""'r~lp ff rh"no-p<:;
 134 Allomie
Wit!: the. increase or decrease of collective revenue and the changes oc-
cllr~mg ill the moral ideas of society. This what appears luxury to one
per~od no longer does so to another; and the well-being which for long
penods was granted to a class only by exception and supererogation, fi-
nally appears strictly necessary and equitable.
Under this pressure, each in his sphere vaguely realizes the extreme
limit set to his ambitions and aspires to nothing beyond. At least if he re-
spects regulations and is docile to collective authority, that is, has a
wholesome moral constitution, he feels that it is not well to ask more.
~h~sl an end and goal are set to the passions. Truly, there is nothing
rIgId nor absolute about such determination. The economic ideal as-
signed each dass of citizens is itself confined to certain limits, within
which the desires have fee range. But it is not infinite. This relative lim-
itation and the moderation it involves, make men contented with their
lot while stimulating them moderately to improve it; and this average
co~tentment causes the feeling of calm, active happiness, the pleasure in
eXIsting and living which characterizes health for societies as well as
for individuals. Each person is then at least, generally speaking, in har-
mony with his condition, and desires only what he may legitimately
hope for as the normal reward of his activity. Besides, this does not con-
~emn m~n to a sort of immObility. He may seek to give beauty to his
life; but his attempts in this direction may fail without causing him to de-
spair. For, loving what he has and not fixing his desire solely on what he
lacks, his wishes and hopes may fail of what he has happened to aspire
to, without his being wholly destitute. He has the essentials. The equi-
lIbnum of hiS happiness is secure because it is defined, and a few
nUshaps cannot disconcert him.
But it would be of little use for for everyone to recognize the justice
of the hierarchy of functions established by public opinion, if he did not
also consider the distribution of these functions just. The worlanan is not
in hannony with his social position if he is not convinced that he has rus
desserts. If he feels justified in occupying another, what he has would
not satisfy him. So it is not enough for the average level of needs for
each social condition to be regulated by public opinion, but another,
m~re ~r~cise rule, must fix the way in which these conditions are open
to mdlvlduals. There is no society in which such regulation does not
exist. It varies with times and places. Once it regarded birth as the almost
exclusive principle of social classification; today it recognizes no other
inherent inequality than hereditary forhme and merit. But in all these
various forms its object is uncllanged. It is also only possible, every-
where, as a restriction upon individuals imposed by superior authority,
that is, by collective authority. For it can be establlshed only by requiring
11. Emile Durkheim 135
of one or another group of men, usually of all, sacrifices and conces-
sions in the name of the public interest.
Some, to be sure, have thought that this moral pressure would be-
come unnecessary if men's econonUc circumstances were only no longer
determined by heredity. If inheritance were abolished, the argument
runs, if everyone began life with equal resources and if the competitive
struggle were fought out on a basis of perfect equality, no one could
think its results unjust. Each would instinctively feel that things are as
they should be.
Truly, the nearer this ideal equality were approached, the less so-
cial restraint will be necessary. But it is only a matter of degree. One sort
of heredity mll always exist, that of natural talent. Intelligence, taste,
scientific, artistic, literary or industrial ability, courage and manual dex-
terity are gifts received by each of us at birth, as the heir to weaHh re-
ceives his capital or as the nobleman formerly received his title and
function. A moral discipline will therefore still be required to make those
less favored by nature accept the lesser advantages which they owe to
the chance of birth. Shall it be demanded that all have an equal share
and that no advantage be given those more useful and deserving? But
then there would have to be a discipline far stronger to make these ac-
cept a treatment merely equal to that of the mediocre and incapable.
But like the one first mentioned, this discipline can be useful only if
considered just by the peoples subject to it. When it is maintained only
by custom and force, peace and harmony are illusory; the spirit of unrest
and discontent are latent; appetites superficially restrained are ready
to revolt. This happened in Rome and Greece when the faiths underly-
ing the old organization of the patricians and plebeians were shaken,
and in our modem societies when aristocratic prejudices began to lose
their old ascendancy. But this state of upheaval is exceptional; it oc-
curs only when society is passing through some abnormal crisis. In nor-
mal conditions the collective order is regarded as just by the great
majority of persons. Therefore, when we say that an authority is neces-
sary to impose this order on individuals, we certainly do not mean that
violence is the only means of establishing it. Since this regulation is
meant to restrain individual passions, it must come from a power which
dominates individuals; but this power must also be obeyed through re-
spect, not fear.
n is not true, then, that human activity can be released from all re-
straint. Nothing in the world can enjoy such a privilege. All existence
being a part of the universe is relative to the remainder; its nature and
method of manifestation accordingly depend not only on itself but on
other beings, who consequently restrain and regulate it. Here there are
 136 Anomie
only differences of degree and form betvveen the mineral realm and the
thinking person. Man's characteristic privilege is that the bond he ac-
cepts is not physical but moral; that is, social. He is governed not by a
material environment brutally imposed on him, but by a conscience su-
perior to his own, the superiority of which he feels. Because the greater,
better part of his existence transcends the body, he escapes the body's
yoke, but is subject to that of society.
But when society is disturbed by some painful ccisis or by beneficent
but abrupt transitions, it is momentarily incapable of exercising this in-
fluence; thence come the sudden rises in the curve of suicides whiCh we
have pointed out above.
In the case of economic disasters, indeed, something like a declas-
sification occurs which suddenly casts certain individuals into a lower
state than their previous one. Then they must reduce their requirements,
restrain their needs, learn greater self-control. All the advantages of so-
cial influence are lost so far as they are concerned; their moral education
has to be recommenced. But society cannot adjust them instantaneous-
ly to this new life and teach them to practice the increased self-repression
to which they are unaccustomed. So they are not adjusted to the condi-
tion forced on them, and its very prospect is intolerable; hence the suf-
fering which detaches Ulem from a reduced existence even before they
have made trial of it.
It is the same if the source of the crisis is an abrupt growth of power
and wealth. Then, truly, as the conditions of life are changed, the stan-
dard according to which needs were regulated can no longer remain
the same; for it varies with social resources, since it largely determines
the share of each class of producers. The scale is upset; but a new scale
cannot be immediately improvised. Time is required for the public con-
science to reclassify men and things. So long as the social forces thus
freed have not regained equilibrium, their respective values are un-
known and so all regulation is lacking for a time. The limits are un-
known between the possible and the impossible, what is just and what
is unjust, legitimate claims and hopes and those which are immoder-
ate. Consequently, there is no restraint upon aspirations. If the distur-
bance is profound, it affects even the principles controlling the
distribution of men among various occupations. Since the relations be-
tween various parts of society are necessarily modified, the ideas ex-
pressing these relations must change. Some particular class especially
favored by the crisis is no longer resigned to its former lot, and, on the
other hand, the example of its greater good fortune arouses all sorts of
jealously below and about it. Appetites, not being controlled by a pub-
lic opinion, become disoriented, no longer recognize the limits proper to
them. Besides. thev are at the same time seizf>d hv a sort of nntllr::li
11. Emile Durkheim 13i
erethism simply by the greater intensity of public life. WIth increased
prosperity desires increase. At the very moment when traditional rules
have lost their authority, the richer prize offered these appetites stimu-
lates them and malces them more exigent and impatient of control. The
state of de-regulation or anomy is thus further heightened by passions
being less disciplined, precisely when they need more disciplining.
But then their very demands make fulfillment impossible. Over-
weening ambition always exceeds the results obtained, great as they
may be, since there is no warning to pause here. Nothing gives satis-
faction and all this agitation is uninterruptedly maintaIDed without ap-
peasement. Above all, since this race for an unattainable goal can give no
other pleasure but that of the race itself, if it is one, once it is interrupt-
ed the participants are left empty-handed. At the same time the struggle
grows more violent and painful, both from being less controlled and
because competition is greater. All classes contend among themselves
because no established classification any longer exists. Effort grows, just
when it becomes less productive. How could the desire to live not be
weakened under such conditions?
This explanation is confirmed by the remarkable immunity of poor
countries. Poverty protects against suicide because it is a restraint in it-
self. No matter how one acts, desires have to depend upon resources to
some extent; actual possessions are partly Ule criterion of those aspired
to. So the less one has the less he is tempted to extend the range of his
needs indefinitely. Lack of power, compelling moderation, accustoms
men to it, while nothing excites envy if no one has superfluity. Wealth,
on the other hand, by the power it bestows, deceives us into believing
that we depend on ourselves only. Reducing the resistance we encounter
from objects, it suggests the possibility of unlimited success against
them. The less limited one feels, the more intolerable all limitation ap-
pears. Not without reason, therefore, have so many religions dwelt on
the advantages and moral value of poverty Tt is actually the best school
for teaching self-restraint. Forcing us to constant self-discipline, it pre-
pares us to accept collective discipline with equanimity, while wealth,
exalting the individual, may always arouse the spirit of rebellion which
is the very source of immorality. This, of course, is no reason why hu-
manity should not improve its material condition. But though the moral
danger involved in every growth of prosperity is not irremediable, it
should not be forgotten.
If anomy never appeared except, as in the above instances, in inter-
mittent spurts and acute crisis, it might cause the social suicide-rate to
vary from time to time, but it would not be a regular, constant factor. In
one sphere of social life, however-the sphere to trade and industry-it
is actuallv in a chronic state.
138 Anomie
For a whole century, economic progress has mainly consisted in
freeing industrial relations from all regulation. Until very recently, it
was the function of a whole system of moral forces to exert this disci-
pline. First, the influence of religion was felt alike by workers and mas-
ters, the poor and the rich. It consoled the former and taught them
contentment with their lot by informing them of the providential na-
ture of the social order, that the share of each class was assigned by God
himself, and by holding out the hope for just compensation in a world to
come in return for the inequalities of this world. It governed the latter,
recalling that worldly interests are not man's entire lot, that they must be
subordinate to other and higher interests, and that they should therefore
not be pursued without rule or measure. Temporal power, in rum, re-
strained the scope of economic functions by its supremacy over them
and by the relatively subordinate role it assigned them. Finally, within
the business world proper, the occupational groups by regulating
salaries, the price of products and production itself, directly fixed the av-
erage level of income on which needs are partially based by the very
force of circumstances. However, we do not mean to propose this orga-
nization as a model. Clearly it would be inadequate to existing societies
without great changes. What we stress is its existence, the fact of its use-
ful influence, and that nothing today has come to take its place.
Actually, religion has lost most of its power. And government in-
stead of regulating economic life, has become its tool and servant. The
most opposite schools, orthodox economists and extreme socialists, unite
to reduce government to the role of a more or less passive intermediary
among the various social functions. The former wish to make it simply
the guardian of individual contracts; the latter leave it the task of doing
the collective bookkeeping, that is, of recording the demands of con-
sumers, transmitting them to producers, inventorying the total revenue
and distributing it according to a fixed fonnula. But both refuse it any
power to subordinate other social organs to itself and to make them
converge toward one dominant aim. On both sides nations are declared
to have the single or chief purpose of achieving industrial prosperity;
such is the implication of the dogma of economic materialism, the basis
of both apparently opposed systems. And as these theories merely ex-
press the state of opinion, industry, instead of being still regarded as a
means to an end transcending itself, has become the supreme end of in-
dividuals and societies alike. ll1ereupon the appetites thus excited have
become freed of any limiting authority. By sanctifying them, so to speak,
this apotheosis of well-being has placed them above all human law.
Their restraint seems Like a sort of sacrilege. For this reason, even the
purely utilitarian regulation of them exercised by the industrial world it-
self through the medium of occupational groUDS has been unahlF' tn nPr-
11. Emile Durkheim 139
sist. Ultimately, this liberation of desires has been made worse by the
very development of industry and the almost infinite extension of the
market. So long as the producer could gain his profits only in his im-
mediate neighborhood, the restricted amount of pOSSible gain could not
much overexcite ambition. Now that he may assume to have almost the
entire world as his customer, how could passions accept their former
confinement in the face of such limitless prospects?
Such is the source of the excitement predominating in this part of so-
ciety, and which has thence extended to the other parts. There, the state
of crisis and anomy is constant and, so to speak, normal. From top to
bottom of the ladder, greed is aroused without knowing where to find
ultimate foothold. Nothing can calm it, since its goal is far beyond all it
can attain. Reality seems valueless by comparison with the dreams of
fevered imagination; reality is therefore abandoned, but so too is possi-
bility abandoned when it in turn becomes re~ity. A thirst ~ses for no~­
elties, unfamiliar pleasures, nameless sensations, all of whIch lose theIr
savor once known. Henceforth one has no strength to endure the least
reverse. The whole fever subsides and the sterility of all the tumult is ap-
parent, and it is seen that all these new sensations in their infinite qu~n­
tity cannot form a solid foundation of happiness to support one durmg
days of trial. The wise man, knowing how to enjoy achieved results
without having constantly to replace them with others, finds in them
an attachment to life in the hour of difficulty. But the man who has al-
ways pinned all his hopes on the future and lived with his eyes fixed
upon it, has nothing in the past as a comfort a~ainst the present's. affljc-
tions, for the past was nothing to him but a serIes of hastily expenenced
stages. What blinded him to himself was his expectation always to find
further on the happiness he had so far missed. Now he is stopped in
his tracks; from how on nothing remains behind or ahead of him to fix
his gaze upon. Weariness alone, moreover, is enough to bring disillu-
sionment, for he cannot in the end escape the futility of an endless pur-
suit.
We may even wonder if this moral state is not principally what
makes economic catastrophes of our day so fertile in suicides. In soci-
eties where a man is subjected to a healthy discipline, he submits more
readily to the blows of chance. The necessary effort for sustaining a lit-
tle more discomfort costs him relatively little, since he is used to dis-
comfort and constraint. But when every constraint is hateful in itself,
how can closer constraint not seem intolerable? There is no tendency to
resignation in the feverish impatience of men's lives. When there is no
other aim but to outstrip constantly the point arrived at, how painful to
be thrown badd Now this ve~r lack of o:~a~ization cha:a~er~ing our
 140 Anomie 11. Emile Durkheim 141

Since imagination is hungry for novelty, and ungoverned, it gropes at

random. Setbacks necessarily increase with risks and thus crises multi- TABLE 11.1 SUICIDES PER MILLION PERSONS OF DIFFERENT OCCUPATIONS
ply, just when they are becoming more destructive.
Yet these dispositions are so inbred that society has grown to ac- TRANSPOR- AGruCUL- LIBERAL *
cept them and is accustomed to think them normal. It is everlastingly re- TRADE TATlON INDUSTRY TURE PROFESSIONS

peated that it is man's nature to be eternally dissatisfied, constantly to France (1878-87)' 440 340 240 300
advance, without relief or rest, toward an indefinite goal. The longing for
Switzerland (1876) 664 1,514 577 304 558
infinity is daily represented as a mark of moral distinction, whereas it
can only appear within unregulated consciences which elevate to a rule Italy (1866-76) 277 152.6 80.1 26.7 618'
the lack of rule from which they suffer. The doctrine of the most ruthless Prussia (1883-90) 754 456 315 832
and swift progress has become an article of faith. But other theories ap- Bavaria (1884-91) 465 369 153 454
pear parallel with those praising the advantages of instability, which,
Belgium (1886-90) 421 160 160 100
generalizing the situation that gives then birth, declare life evil, claim
that it is richer in grief than in pleasure and that it attracts men only by Wurttemburg (1873-78) 273 190 206
false claims. Since this disorder is greatest in the economic world, it has Saxony (1878) 341.59§ 71.17
most victims there.
Industrial and commercial functions are really among the occupa-
'When statislic~ distinguish several different sorts of liberal occupations, we show as a specimen the
tions which furnish the greatest number of suicides (see Table 11.1). Al- one in which the suicide-rate is highest.
most on a level with the liberal professions, they sometimes surpass tprom 1826 to 1880 economic functions seem less affected (see Compte-mull! of 1880); but were
them; they are especially more afflicted than agriculture, where the old occupational statistics very accurate?
regulative forces still make their appearance felt most and where the IThis figure is reached only by men of letters.
fever of business has least penetrated. Here is best recalled what was §Figure represents Trade, Transportation and Industry combined for Saxony. (Ed.)
once the general constitution of the economic order. And the divergence
would be yet greater it among the suicides of industry, employers were Certainly, this and egoistic suicide have kindred ties. Both spring
distinguished from worlanen, for the former are probably most stricken from society's insufficient presence in individuals. But the sphere of its
by the state of anorny. The enormous rate of those with independent absence is not the same in both cases. In egoistic suicide it is deficient in
means (720 per million) sufficiently shows that the possessors of most truly collective activity, thus depriving the latter of object and meaning.
comfort suffer most. Everything that enforces subordination attenuates In anomic suicide, society's influence is lacking in the basically individ-
the effects of this state. At least the horizon of the lower classes is limit- ual passions, thus leaving them without a check-rein. In spite of their re-
ed by those above them, and for this same reason their desires are more lationship, therefore, the two types are independent of each other. We
modest. Those who have only empty space above them are almost in- may offer society everything social in llS, and still be unable to control
evitably lost in it, if for no force restrains them. our desires; one may live in an anomic state without being egoistic, and
Anomy, therefore, is a regular and specific factor in suicide in our vice versa. These tvvo sorts of suicide therefore do not draw their chief
modern societies; one of the springs from which the annual contingent recruits from the same social environments; one has its principal field
feeds. So we have here a new type to distinguish from the others. It dif- among intellectual careers, the world of thought-the other, the indus-
fers from them in its dependence, not on the way in which individuals trial or commercial world.
are attached to society, but on how it regulates them. Egoistic suicide
results from man's no longer finding a basis for existence in life; altruistic
suicide, because this basis for existence appears to man situated beyond NOTE
life itself. The third sort of suicide, the existence of which has just been
shown, results from man's activity's lacking regulation and his conse- 1. Actually, this is a purely moral reprobation and can hardly be judicially
quent sufferings. By virtue of its origin we shall assign this last variety implemented. We do not consider any reestablishment of sumptuary laws
thp n;!TnP nf mU111';,., .. ";,.,;rI,,
 CWfffilS
, 12. Robert K. Merton
142 Anomie
12 Social Structure and Anomie
ROBERT K. MERTON
Until recently, and all the more so before then, one could speak of a
marked tendency in psychological and sociological theory to attribute
the faulty operation of social structures to failures of social control over
man's imperious biological drives. TIle imagery of the relations behveen
man and society implied by this doctrine is as clear as it is question-
able. In the beginning, there are man's biological impulses which seek
full expression. And then, there is the social order, essentially an appa-
ratus for the management of impulses, for the social processing of ten-
sions, for the "renunciation of instinctual gratifications," in the words of
Freud. Nonconformity with the demands of a social structure is thus
assumed to be anchored in original nature. 1 It is the biologically rooted
impulses which from time to time break through social control. And by
implication, conformity is the result of an utilitarian calculus or of un-
reasoned conditioning.
With the more recent advancement of social science, this set of con-
ceptions has undergone basic modification. For one thing, it no longer
appears so obvious that man is set against society in an unceasing war
between biological impulse and social restraint. The image of man as
an untamed bundle of impulses begins to look more like a caricature
than a portrait. For another, sociological perspectives have increasingly
entered into the analysis of beha vi or deviating from prescribed patterns
of conduct. For whatever the role of biological impulses, there still re-
mains the further question of why it is that the frequency of deviant be-
havior varies within different social structures and how it happens that
the deviations have different shapes and patterns in different social
structures. Today, as then, we have still much to learn about the process-
es through which social structures generate the circumstances in which
infringement of social codes constitutes a "normal" (that is to say, an
e>..'pectable) response. 2 This chapter is an essay seeking clarification of the
problem.
The framework set out in this essay is designed to proVide one sys-
tematic approach to the analysis of social and cultural sources of deviant
behavior. Our primary aim is to discover how some social structures exert
a definite pressure upon certain persons in the society to engage ill nOr/con-
formillg rather than conforming conduct.If we can locate groups peculiarly
subject to such pressures, we should expect to find fairly high rates of de-
Reprinted with the permission of The Free Press, a Division ofSimon & Sdluster from
Social Theory and Social Structure by Robert K. Merlon. Copyright © 1967, 1968 by Robert
K. rl/Jerlon.
143
. nt behavior in these groups, not because the human beings compris-
~Tla them are compounded of distinctive biological tendencies but be-
mg h .a1. . . hi h tl
cause they are responding normally to t e S~Cl SItuation ID W. C. 1~y
find themselves. Our perspective is sociologrcal. We look at vanations ill
the rates of deviant behavior, not at its incidence. 3 Should our quest be at
all successful, some forms of deviant behav:ior will be foun~ to be as
psychologically normal as confo~g be~avIOr, an~ the eq~ation of de-
viation and psychological abnormality WIll be put In question.
PATTERNS OF CULTURAL GOALS AND
INSTITUTIONAL NORMS
Among the several elements of social and cultural structures, MO are of
immediate importance. These are analytically separable although they
merge in concrete situations. The first con~i~ts of cu!tu~ally defined
goals, purposes and interests, held out as legItimate objectives for all or
for diversely located members of the sOciety. The goals are more or less
integrated-the degree is a question of empirical fact-and roughly o~­
dered in some hierarchy of value. Involving various degrees of senti-
ment and significance, the prevailing goals comprise a frame of
aspirational reference. They are the things "worth striving f?r." They
are a basic, though not the exclusive, component of what Lmton has
called "designs for group living." And though some, not all, of these
cultural goals are directly related to the biological drives of man, tlley are
not detemUned by them.
A second element of the cultural structure defines, regulates and
controls the acceptable modes of reaching out for these goals. Every so-
cial group invariably couples its culruraI objectives with regulatio.ns,
rooted in the mores or institutions, of allowable procedures for movmg
toward these objectives. These regulatory norms are not necessa~ily
identical with technical or efficiency norms. Many procedures whIch
from the standpoint of particular individuals would be most efficient
in securing desired values-the exercise of force, fraud, power-are
ruled out of the institutional area of permitted conduct. At times, the
disallowed procedures include some which would be efficient for th.e
group itself-e.g., historic taboos on vivisection, on medical. expen-
mentation, on the sociological analysis of "sacred" norms-smce the
criterion of acceptability is not technical efficiency but value-laden sen-
timents (supported by most members of the group or by Ulose able to
promote these sentiments through the composite use of power and pro-
paganda). In all instances, the choice of expedients for striving toward
 144 Anomie
Sociologists often speak of these controls as being "in the mores"
or as operating through social institutions. Such elliptical statements
are true enough, but they obscure the fact that culturally standardized
practices are not all of a piece. They are subject to a wide gamut of con-
trol. They may represent definitely prescribed or preferential or per-
mIS.SIve or proscnbed patterns of behavior. In assessing the operation of
sO~lal. controls, these variations-roughly indicated by the terms pre-
SCriptIOn, preference, permission and proscription-must of course be taken
into account.
To say, moreover, that cultural goals and institutionalized norms
operate jointly to shape prevailing practices is not to say that they bear
a constant relation to one another. The cultural emphasis placed upon
certain goals varies independently of the degree of emphasis upon in-
stitutionalized means. 111ere may develop a very heavy, at times a vir-
tually exclusive, stress upon the value of particular goals, involving
comparatively little concern with the institutionally prescribed means of
striving toward these goals. The limiting case of this type is reached
when the range of alternative procedures is governed only by technical
rather than by institutional norms. Any and all procedures which
promise attainment of the all-important goal would be pemtitted in this
hypothetical polar case. This constitutes one type of malintegrated cul-
ture. A second polar type is found in groups where activities originally
conceived as instrumental are transmuted into self-contained practices,
lacking further objectives. The original purposes are forgotten and close
adherence to institutionally prescribed conduct becomes a matter of rit-
ua1. 4 Sheer conformity becomes a central value. For a time, social sta-
bility is ensured-at the expense of flexibility. Since the range of
alternative behaviors permitted by the culture is severely limited, there
is little basis for adapting to new conditions. There develops a tradi-
tion-bound, 'sacred' society marked by neophobia. Behtveen these ex-
treme types are societies which maintain a rough balance between
emphases upon cultural goals and institutionalized practices, and these
c~nstitute the integrated and relatively stable, though changing, soci-
eties.
An effective equilibrium between these two phases of the social
structure is maintained so long as satisfactions accrue to individuals
conforming to both cultural constraints, viz., satisfactions from the
achievement of goals and satisfactions emerging directly from the in-
stitutionally canalized modes of striving to attain tllem. It is reckoned in
terms of the product and in terms of the process, in terms of the out-
come and in terms of the activities. Thus continuing satisfactions must
derive from sheer participation in a competitive order as well as from
eclipsing one's comnptitnr<:: if thp nrrlpr it<::pjf i", +n. h", ... "n+":~ ....-l T£ ~~-
12. Robert K. Merton 145
cern shifts exlusively to the outcome of competition, then those who
erennially suffer defeat may, understandably enough, work for a
~hange in the rules of the game. The sacrifices oc~asion~lly~n~t, as
ud assumed, invariably-entailed by conformIty to mstItutIOnal
Fre
rIDS must be compensated by socialized rewards. The d·Ism·b· ution 0 f
~t~tuses through competition must be so organized that positive in~~n­
lives for adherence to status obligations are provided fol' even) POSltl.OH
within the distributive order. Otherwise, as will soon be~orne plam,
aberrant behavior ensues. It is, indeed, my central hypotheSIS tha~ aber:-
rant behavior may be regarded sociologically as a symptom of dISSOCI-
ation between culturally prescribed aspirations and socially structured
avenues for realizing these aspirations.
Of the types of societies that result from independent .vari~tion of
cultural goals and institutionalized means, w~ shall be p.nmanly con-
cerned with the first-a society in which there 15 an exceptionally strong
emphasis upon specific goals without a corresponding em~hasis upon
institutional procedures. If it is not to be misunderstood, tlus statement
must be elaborated. No society lacks norms governing conduct. But so-
cieties do differ in the degree to which the folkways, mores and institu-
tional controls are effectively integrated with the goals which stand hi?h
in the hierarchy of cultural values. The culture may be such as to lead m-
dividuals to center their emotional convictions upon the complex of cul-
turally acclaimed ends, with far less erno.tional su~port f~r prescribed
methods of reaching out for these ends. WIth such dIfferenbal em~~ases
upon goals and institutional procedures, ~he latter m~y b.e ~o vltia.ted
by the stress on goals as to have the behavlOr ~f many m~lvIduals lim-
ited only by considerations of technical expedIency.. In tlus context, tl:e
sole significant question becomes: "Which of the avaIlab~e procedur~s IS
most efficient in netting the culturally approved value?:J The techrucal-
ly most effective procedure, whether culturally legitimate or not, b~­
comes typically preferred to institutionally prescribed conduct. As thIS
process of attenuation continues, the society becomes unstable and there
develops what Durkheim called "anomie" (or normles~ness).6 .
The working of this process eventuating in anomle can be e~s.dy
glimpsed in a series of familiar and instructive, th~ugh p:rhap~ tnvwl,
episodes. Thus, in competitive athletics, when the alm of VIctOry 15 ~h~rn
of its institutional trappings and success becomes construed as Wlll-
ning the game" rather than winning un.der ~~e rules of the ~ame," a
JI
premium is implicitly set upon the use of tllegltlmate ~ut techni~ayy ef-
ficient means. The star of the opposing football team IS surreptItlously
slugged; the wrestler incapacitates. his opponent.t~ro~?h ingen~?us but
illicit techniques; university alwnru covertly subSidIze students whose
." r' _ . .1 ,_ cl. __ LL1_L:_ C.~l..l 'T'\...~ ~~~1~~~;,·,..,..., ~1~ ......... '"''"'1 J,.,..,..,.r.
 146 Anomie 12. Robert re Merlon 147

atte.n.uated ~h~ satisfactions deriving from sheer participation in the com- cepts which affirm the right or, often, the duty of retaining the goal
petitive actIvIty that only a successful outcome provides gratificatio pre I'n the face of repeated frustration. Prestigeful representatives of
even . ' h
society reinforce the cultural emphaSIS. The family, the sc 001 an
d
Through the same process, tension generated by the desire to win inn. 1
t~ 1·
poker game is relieved by successfully dealing one's self four aces 0 fa the workplace-the major agencies shaping th~ perso~a Ity ~truc~ur~
when the cult of success has truly flowered, by sagaciously shufflin , and goal formation of .~e~cans~join to yr.ovlde the mtensIVe dl~CI-
the ~ards in a game of solitaire. The faint rnringe of uneasiness in th~ lining required if an mdlvldualls to retam mtact a goal t~at remarns
last mstance and the surreptitious nature of public delids indicate clear- ~luSively beyond reach, if he is to be motivated by the pronuse of a grat-
ly that the institutional rules of the game are known to those who evade ification which is not redeemed. As we shall presently see, parents se~e
them. But cultural (or idiosyncratic) exaggeration of the success-goal a transmission belt for the values and goals of the groups of wluch
leads men to withdraw emotional support from the rules? ~ey are a part-above all, of their social class or of the class with which
This ~rocess is. of course not restricted to the realm of competitive they identify themselves. And the schools are of course the official
SpO.ft, which has SImply provided us with microcosmic images of the agency for the passing on of the prevailin!? valu:s, with a ~arge pr~p.or­
sO:Ial macrocos~. !he process whereby exaltation of the end generates tion of the textbooks used in city schools lmplymg or stating explIcltly
~ literal ~e11l0rallzatlOll, i.e., a de-institutionalization, of the means occurs
"that education leads to intelligence and consequently to job and money
ill many groups where the two components of the social structure are
success."w Central to this process of disciplining people to maintain
not highly integrated. their unfulfilled aspirations are the cultural prototypes of succe:s, th.e
~onte.z:nporary American culture appears to approximate the polar
living documents testifying that the American Dream can b~ realIZed If
typ~ ill which great emphasis upon certain success-goals occurs without
one but has the requisite abilities. Consider in this connection the fol-
eqUIvalent emphasis upon institutional means. It would of cOUrse be lowing excerpts from the business journal, Nati~ll's Bllsiness, dra,:,n ~orn
fanciful .to asse~t that accumulated wealth stands alone as a symbol of large amount of comparable materials found ID mass communIcatIons
success just as It would be fanciful to deny that Americans assign it a setting forth the values of business class culture.
place high in their scale of values. In some large measure, money has Its Sociological Implications
The DOCllmellt (Natioll's Business,
been consecrated as a value in itself, over and above its expenditure for
VD!. 27. No. 8, p.7)
~rtides ,?! consu:nption or its use for the enhancement of power.
~foney IS peculIarly well adapted to become a symbol of prestige. As 'You have to be bom to those jobs, Here is a heretical opinion, possi-
Smunel emphasized, money is highly abstract and impersonal. How- buddy, or else have a good pull.' bly born of continued frustration,
lvhich rejects the worth of retain-
ever acquired, fraudulently or institutionally, it can be used to purchase
ing an apparently unrealizable
~e s~me g?ods and services. The anonymity of an urban sOciety, in con- goal and, moreover, questions the
Junction wlth these peculiarities of money, permits wealth, the sources of legitimacy of a social structure
wh!ch may be unknown to the community in which the plutocrat lives whidl provides differential access
or, if kn~wn, to become purified in the course of time, to serve as a sym- to this goaL
bol of high status. Moreover, in the American Dream there is no final That's an old sedative to ambi- The counter-attack, explicitly as-
sto~~ing point. ~e measure?f "monetary success" is conveniently in- serting the cultural value of re-
tion.
defirute and relatIve. At each mcome level, as H. E Clark found, Amer- taining one's aspirations intact, of
not losing "ambition."
icans want just about twenty-five per cent more (but of course this "just
a bit more" continues to operate once it is obtained). In this flux of shift- Before listening 10 its seduction, A clear statement of the function
ask these men: to be served by the ensuing list of
ing,standards, there is no stable resting point, or rather, it is the point
"successes." fhese men are living
~VlllC~ manages always to be "just ahead." An observer of a community testimony that the soda! structure
ID w1:uch annual salaries in six figures are not uncommon, reports the is such as to permit these aspira-
angUIshed words of one victim of the American Dream. "In this to'iNU tions to be achieved, if olle is wor-
I'm snubbed socially because I only get a thousand a week. That hurts."g lily. And correlatively, failure 10
rp;1('h ~hp<;:p o-n:>l<: h,<:fiF;",c ",..,1" In
To say that the goal of monetary success is entrenched in American
culturejsnnlv"'()<;:::nrfJ~ .. f.I\~~-:--,-- , , --
 148 Anomie
AggreSSion provoked by failure
should therefore be directed in-
ward and not outward, against
oneself and not against a social
structure which proVides free and
equal access to opporhmity.
Elmer R. Jones, president of Success prototype I: All may
Wells-Fargo and Co., who began properly have the same lofty am-
life as a poor boy and left school bitions, for however lowly the
at the fifth grade to take his first starting-point, true talent can
job.
reach the very heights, Aspira-
tions must be retained intact
Frank C. Ball, the Mason fruit jar
king of America, who rode from
Success prototype It:Whatever
tile present results of one's striv-
Buffalo to Muncie, Indiana, in a ings~ the future is large with
boxcar along with his brother promise; for the common man
George's horse, to start a little may yet become a lcit1g, Gratifica-
business in Muncie that became tions may seem forever deferred,
the biggest of its kind.
but they will finally be realized as
one's enterprise becomes "the
biggest of its kind," . In rough psychological paraphrase, these axioms represent, first, a
J. 1. Bevan, president of the Illi-
Success prototype ill: If the secu-
nois Central Railroad, who at lar trends of our economy seem to
tw-elve was a messenger boy in give little scope to small business,
the freight office at New Orleans. than one may rise within the
giant bureaucracies of private en-
terprise, If one can no longer be a
king in a realm of his own cre-
ation, he may at least become a
preSident in one of the economic
democracies. No matter what
one's present station, messenger
boy or clerk, one's gaze should be
fixed at the top.
From divers Sources there flows a continuing pressure to retain high
ambition. The exhortationalliterature is immense, and one can choose
only at the risk of seeming invidious. Consider only these: the Reverend
Russell H. Conwell, with his Acres of Diamonds address heard and read
by hundreds of thousands and his subsequent book, The New Day or
Fresh Opportunities: A BookJar Young Mm,' Elbert Hubbard, who delivered
the famous Message to Garcia at Chautauqua forums throughout the
land; Orison Swett Marden, who, in a stream of books, first set forth
The Secret of Ac!zieve11lent, praised by college presidents, than explained
~e process of Pushing to the Front, eulogized by President McKiriley and
finally. these dpmnrr~tir tp<::tirnnn;:>l" .... nh";.J-h".j.~~,.l: ____ .1,1
+ ____
12. Robert K. Merton 149
toma k e Eveny Man a King. The symbolism of a commoner rising to, the
t t Of economic royalty is woven deep in
esae
the texture of the Amencan
' 1 · · . th
culture pattern, finding what is perhaps Its u hmate expressI~n l,~ e
ds of one who knew whereof he spoke, Andrew Camegle: Be a
wor
king in your dreams. Say to yourse, If "M . y p 1ace IS at
. at th.e t "'Il .
Coupled with this posi~ve emphas,ls upon the oblig~ti.on to maIn-
tain lofty goals is a cor~e.latIve emp~lasls upon the p.enaliz,~g of those
who draw in their ambItions. Amencans are admOnIshed Not to be a
uitter" for in the dictionary of American culture, as in the lexicon of
q th "there is nO such word as 'faiL'" The culture manifesto is clear:
you , . . . 1
one must not quit, must not cease stnvmg, must not lessen hIS goa s,
for "not failure, but low aim, is crime." .
Thus the culture enjoins the acceptance of three cultural axwms:
First all should strive for the same lofty goals since these are open to all;
seco~d present seeming failure is but a way-station to ultimate success;
and tlilid, genuine failure consists only in the lessening or withdrawal of
ambition.
symbolic secondary reinforcement of incentive; seco~d, curb.jng the
threatened extinction of a response through an aSSOCIated stImulus;
third, increasing the motive-strength to evoke continued responses de-
spite the continued absence of reward. . .
In sociological paraphrase, these aXIOms represent, first, the defle.c-
tion of critidsm of the social structure onto one's sell among those so SIt-
uated in the society that they do not have full and equal access to
opportunity; second, the p~eservation of a structure of social power by
having individuals in the lower social strata identify themselv.es, n~t
with their compeers, but with those at the top (whom they wIll ultI-
mately join); and third, providing pressures for conformity with the cul-
tural dictates of unslackened ambition by the threat of less than full
membership in the society for those who fail to conform.
It is in these terms and through these processes that contemporary
American culture continues to be characterized by a heavy emphasis
on wealth as a basic symbol of success, without a corresponding em-
phasis upon the legitimate avenues on which to march toward this goaL
How do individuals living in this cultural context respond? And how do
our observations bear upon the doctrine that deviant behavior typically
derives from biological im pulses breaking through the restraints im-
posed by culture? What, in short, are the consequences for the behavior
of people valiously situated in a social structure of a culture in which the
emphasiS on dominant success-goals has become increasingly separa~ed
from an equivalent emphasiS on institutionalized procedures for seekmg
 150 Anomie
TYPES OF INDIVIDUAL ADAPTATION
~urnin~ fr~n: these culture patterns, we now examine types of adapta_
tJonby mdlVlduals within the cultural-bearing society. Though our focus
IS still the cultural and social genesis of varying rates and types of de-
VIant behavlOr, our perspective shifts from the plane of patterns of cul-
tural values t? the, plane of tr?:s Of. adaptation to these values among
those Occupymg different pOSItIons In the social structure.
We here consider five types of adaptation, as these are schematical_
ly set out in the following table, where (+) signifies "acceptance," H
SIgnifies "reJection," and (±) signifies "rejection of prevailing values and
substitution of new values."
E~an:n:ation of how the social Structure operates to exert pressure
upon mdlvlduals for one or another of these alternative modes of be-
havior ~ust prefaced by the observation that people may shift from one
~lt~r:native to another as they engage in different spheres of social ac-
~VIties. These categories refer to role behavior in specific types of situa-
tIOns, not to personality. They are types of more or less enduring
response, r:ot ~es of personality organization. To consider these types
of adaptation m several spheres of conduct would introduce a com-
plexity unmanageable within the confines of this chapter. For this rea-
son, we shall be primarily concerned with economic activity in the broad
sense of "the production, exchange, distribution and consumption of
goods and services" in Our competitive society, where wealth has taken
on a highly symbolic cast.
I. CONFORMITY
To the extent that a society is stable, adaptation type I--conformity to
both culhIral goals and institutionalized means-is the most common
an~ Widely diffused. Were this not so, the stability and continuity of the
SOCiety co:ud not b~ maint~ined. TIle mesh of expectancies constituting
every sOClal order IS sustamed by the modal behavior of its members
repres.enting conformity to the established, though perhaps secularly
changmg, culture patterns. It is in fact, only because behavior is typically
onented toward the baSIC values of the a society that we may speak of a
human aggregate as comprising a society. Unless there is a deposit of
values shared by interacting individuals, there exist social relations, if
the disor~er1y interactions may be so called, but no SOciety. It is thus
th~t, at mId-century, one may refer to a Society of Nations primarily as
a figure of speech or as an imagined objective, but not as a SOciological
reality.
12. Robert K. Merton 151
~ TYPOLOGY OF MODES OF INDlVlDUALAOAPTATlON 12
MODES OF ADAPTATION CULTURE GOALS INSTITUTIONALiZED MEANS
I. Conformity + +
TI. Innovation ...
ill. RitualLsm +
IV. Retreatism
V. Rebellion \3 ± ±
Since our primary interest centers on the sources of deviallt behavior,
and since we have briefly examined the mechanisms making for con-
formity as the modal response in American society, little more need be
said regarding this type of adaptation, at this point.
H. INNOVATION
Great cultural emphasis upon the success-goal invites this mode of
adaptation through the use of institutionally proscribed but often effec-
tive means of attaining at least the simulacrum of success-wealth and
power. This response occurs when the individual has assimilated the
culture emphasis upon the goal without equally internalizing the insti-
tutional norms governing ways and means for its attainment.
From the standpoint of psychology, great emotional investment in
an objective may be expected to produce a readiness to take risks, and
this attitude may be adopted by people in all social strata. From the
standpoint of sociology, the question arises, which features of our so-
cial structure predispose toward this lype of adaptation, thus producing
greater frequencies of deviant behavior in one social stratum than in
another?
On the top economic levels, the pressure toward innovation not in-
frequently erases the distinction between business-like strivings this
side of the mores and sharp practices beyond the mores. As Veblen ob-
served, JlIt is not easy in any given case-indeed it is at times impossible
until the courts have spoken-to say whether it is an instance of praise-
worthy salesmanship or a penHentiary offense." The history of the great
American fortunes is threaded with strains toward institutionally dubi-
 Anomie
The reluctant admiration often expressed pllvately, and not seldom pub-
have long been debating the theory that. the imp~lse to ~ommit c~irne is
licly, of these "shrewd, smart and successful" men is a product of a cul-
a djsease, and the ayes appear to have It-the dIsease. Aft~r tIus p~e­
tural structure in which the sacrosanct goal virtually consecrates the
lude, he describes the ways in which the succe~sful rog~e achieves SOCIal
means. This is no new phenomenon. Without assuming that Charles
legitimacy, and proceeds to anatomize the discrepanCIes between cul-
Dickens was a wholly accurate observer of the American scene and with
tural values and social relations.
full knowledge that he was anything but impartial, we cite his percep-
tive remarks on the American
love of "smart" dealing; which gilds OVer many a swindle and gross
breach of trust; many a defalcation, public and private; and enables
many a knave to hold ills head up \vith the best, who well deserves a
halter.... The merits of a broken speculation, or a bankruptcy;. or of a
successful scoundrel, are not gauged by its or his observance of the
golden rule, "Do as you would be done by," but are considered with
reference to their smartness .... The following dialogue I have held a
hundred times: "Is it not a very disgraceful circumstance that such a
man as So-and-so should be acquiring a large property by the most in-
famous and odious means, and notwithstanding all the crimes of
whidl he has been guilty, should be tolerated and abetted by your Cit-
izens? He is a public nuisance, is he not?" "Yes, sir." A convicted liar?"
"Yes, sir." "He has been kicked and cuffed, and caned?" "Yes, sir."
"And he is utterly dishonorable, debased, and profligate?" "Yes, sir."
"In the name of wonder, then, what is his merit?" "Well, sir, he is a
smart man."
In this caricature of conflicting cultural values, Dickens was of
course only one of many wits who mercilessly probed the consequences
of the heavy emphasis on financial success. Native wits continued where
alien wits left off. Artemus Ward satirized the cornmonplaces of Amer-
ican life until they seemed strangely incongruous. The "crackerbox
philosophers," Bill Arp and Petroleum Volcano [later Vesuvius] Nasby,
put wit in the service of iconoclasm, breaking the images of public fig-
ures with unconcealed pleasure. Josh Billings and his alter ego, Uncle
Esek, made plain what many could not freely acknowledge, when he
observed that satisfaction is relative since "most of the happiness in this
world konsists in possessing what others kant git." All were engaged in
exhibiting the social functions of tendentious wit, as this was later to be
analyzed by Freud, in his monograph on Wit and Its Relation to tile Un-
consciolls, using it as "a weapon of attack upon what is great, dignified
and mighty, [upon] that which is shielded by internal hindrances or ex-
ternal circumstances against direct disparagement.. .. " But perhaps most
in point here was the deployment of wit by Ambrose Bierce in a form
which made it evident that wit had not cut away from its etymological
origins and still meant the power by which one knows, learns, or thinks.
In his characteristically ironical and deep-seeing essay on "crime and
its correctives." Rjprrp hpo-inc;: urith tha ,."h".., ..,,~~;~_ ~I..._.J. _1_
IJC' _ _ ,
Bierce could not easily fail to observe what became later known as
12. Robert K Merton 153
The good American is, as ~ rule, preto/ hard on roguery, but he ato~e~
for his austerity by an amtable toleratIon of rogues. His o,r;JY reqUl~,
ment is that he must personally know the rogues. We. all de~ounce
thieves loudly enough if we have not the honor of t11elr acquamtance.
If we have, why;. that is different-unless they have the ac~al odor of
the slum or the prison about them. We .may l.mow them 8U:llty, but we
meet them, shake hands with them, d~ .Wlth them and, If they hap-
en to be wealthy, or otherwise great, mVlte the~ to our hou~es, and
~eem it an honor to frequent theirs. We do not approv~ ~err meth-
ds"-let that be understood; and thereby they are suifrc,ent~y pun-
~hed. The notion that a knave cares a pin what is thought of his w~ys
by one who is civil and friendly to himself appears to. have been m-
vented by a humorist. On the vaudeville stage of Mars It would prob-
ably have made his fortune. . . .
[And again:] If social recogmtion were denred to rogues they
would be fewer by many. Some would only ~he more diligently cover
their tracks along the devious paths of ~nnghteousness, but oth~rs
would do so much violence to their consclenc~s as to renounce the ~IS­
advantages of rascality for those of an honest life. An unworthy per;:>on
dre~ds nothing so much as the withholding of an honest hand, the
slow inevitable stroke of an ignoring eye.
We have rich rogues because we have "respectable" ~ersons who
are not ashamed to take them by the hand, to be seen WIUl tllem, to
say that they know them. In such it is trea~ery. to censure them; to
cry out when robbed by them is to turn state s eVldence.. .
One may smile upon a rascal (most of use do m~y ti.mes a day) if
one does not know him to be a rascal, and has not Sal? h: IS; but know-
ing him to be, or haVing said he is, to smile .upon h~ 15 to be a. hyp-
ocrite-just a plain hypocrite or a sycophantic hypocnte, accor?mg to
the station in life of the rascal smiled upon. There are more pJam hyp-
ocrites than sycophantic ones for there are more rascals of no co~se­
quence than rich and distinguished ones, though they get fewer s~Jes
each. The American people \viU be plundered as long as the Amen~an
character is what it Ls; as long as it is tolerant of s:lc~ess!uJ knaves. as
long as American ingenuity drat"s an jmag~ary dlstm~fjon beh:een a
man's public character and his pdvat:-his commemaJ and hIS per~
sonaL In brief, the American people Will be plundered as long as the}
desenre to be plundered. No human la\v can stop, none oU,?"h,t to sto~
it, for that would abrogate a higher and more salutary law: ~:; ye SOH,
ye shall reap."H
Living in the age in which the American robber barons flourished,
..' ..... r·.
 154 Anomie
larg~ and dramatic departures from institutional nOTInS in the top eco-
nom:c strata are Imowfl, and possibly fewer deviations among the less-
er rruddle classes come to light. Sutherland has repeatedly docwnented
the prevalence of "white-collar criminality" among business men. He
notes, further, that many of these crimes were not prosecuted because
they were not detected Of, if detected, because of lithe status of the busi-
n~ss man, the trend away fr~m p~slunent, and the relatively unorga-
ruzed resentment of the publi.c agamst white-collar criminals. "15 A study
of some 1,700 prevalently truddle-class individuals found that "off the
rec?rd c~es" w~re common among wholly "respectable" members of
SOCIety. Nmety-rune per cent of those questioned confessed to having
committed one or more of 49 offenses under the penal law of the State of
Ne~ York, each or these offenses being sufficiently serious to draw a
maXIDlUm sentence of not less than one year. The mean number of of-
fenses in adult years-this excludes all offenses committed before the
age of sixteen-was 18 for men and 11 for women. Fully 64% of the men
and 29% of the women acknowledged their guilt on one or more counts
of felony w~ch, under the laws of New York is ground for depriving
them of all nghts of citizenship. One keynote of these findings is ex-
pressed by a minister, referring to false statements he made about a
commodity he sold, "I tried truth first, but it's not always successful."
On the basis of these results, the authors modestly conclude that "the
~umber of acts legally constituting crimes are far in excess of those offi-
cIally reporte~. Unlawful behavior, fare from being an abnormal social
or psychologIcal manifestation, is in truth a very common phenome-
non."16
But whatever the differential rates of deviant behavior in the sever-
al social strata, and we know from many sources that the official crime
statistics uniformly shOWing higher rates in the lower strata are far from
complete or reliable, it appears from our analysis that the greatest pres-
sures .toward deviation are. exer~ed upon the lower strata. Cases in point
permIt us to detect the socIOLogIcal mechanisms involved in producing
thes.e press~es. Several researches have shown that specialized areas
of VIce and cnrne constitute a "normal" response to a situation where the
cul~a1 ~mphasis upon pecuniary Success has been absorbed, but where
there IS little access to c~nventional and legitimate means for becoming
successful. The occupational opportunities of people in these areas are
largely c~nfine~ to m~nu~ 1abor and the lesser white-collar jobs. Given
the Ame~lcan stigmatization of manuallabor which has been found to hold
ratJ~e~ 11l1iJomzly in all social classes,l? and the absence of realistic oppor-
tunities for advancement beyond this level, the result is a marked ten-
dency toward deviant behavior. The status of unskilled labor and the
consequent low income cannot readily comDete in term,.:; nF p~;-nhlic:l,or1
12. Robert K. Merton 155
standards of worth with the promises of power and high income from or-
~. .
B
ganized vice, rackets and crime.1 • • • .
For our purposes, these situations exhibIt two sal1ent features. FIrst,
incentives for success afe proVided by the established values of the cul-
ture and second, the avenues available for moving toward t~is go~] are
largely limited by the class structure to those of d~viant behavlOr..It IS the
combi11atioll of the cultural emphasis and the socIal structure which pro-
duces intense pressure for deviation. Recourse to legitimate .ch~nels
for" getting in the money" is limited by a class stnlc~re WhICh ~s ~ot
fully open at each level to men of good capacity.l9 DespIte our perSIstIng
open-class-ideology,20 advance toward the success-goal is relativ.ely rare
and notably difficult for those armed with little formal education and
few economic resources. The dominant pressure leads toward the grad-
ual attenuation of iegitmate, but by and large ineffectu~l, striving~ and
the increasing use of illegitimate, but more Of less ~ectIve, expedIents.
Of those located in the lower reaches of the SOCial structure, the cul-
ture makes incompatible demands. On the one hand, they are asked to
orient their conduct toward the prospect of large wealth-"Every man a
king," said Marden and Carnegie ~d Long-~d D.n ~e other, they are
largely denied effective opporturu~es to d? so t~stItuhonally. ~he con-
sequence of this structural inconsIstency IS a hIgh rate of devmnt be-
havior. The equilibrium between cultura~ly designat~d ends a~d. means
becomes highly unstable with progreSSIve emphaSIS on attaInIng the
prestige-laden ends by any means whats?ever: Within this context, Al
Capone represents the triumph of amoral mtelligence over morally pre-
scribed "failure," when the channels of vertical mobillty are. closed or
narrowed in a society wllich places a hig!l premiulIl 011 eC0l10Il11C affluence
21
and social ascent for all its lIIembers. • •
This last qualification is of central importance. It Imphe~ that other
aspects of the social structure, besides the extreme emphaSIS on pec.u-
niary success, must be considered if we are to under~tand the s.ocl~1
sources of deviant behavior. A high frequency of deViant behavlOf IS
not generated merely by lack of oppor~u~~ or by this exaggerated pe-
cuniary emphasis. A comparatively ngldlfled cla.ss stru.cture, a .cas~e
order, may limit opportunities far beyond the pomt whIch obtams In
American society today- It is when a system of cultural values e~tols,
virtually above all else, certain COli/mOll Sllccess-.goals for the populatlOl/ at
large while the social stTucture rigorously restncts or completely closes
access to approved modes of read1ing these goals for n considerable part of
the same popUlation, that deviant behavio.f ensu.es o~ a ~arge scal~. Oth-
erwise said our eaalitarian ideology derues by tm plICatIOn the eXIst~nce
of non-co~petin; individuals and groups in the p~rsuit of pecumary
__ • _____ T__ J. __ ...1 ~h,., ,,"rnO hnrfu nf ';:l1rrp~~_~\rmh()k 1~ hpJJ1 ~() ::tnnlv for
156 Anomie
all. Goals are held to transcend class lines, not to be bounded by them,
yet the actual social organization is such that there exist class differen-
tials in accessibility of the goals. In this setting, a cardinal American
virtue, "ambition," promotes a cardinal American vice, "deviant be-
havior."
This theoretical analysis may help explain the varying correlations
betvveen crime and poverty,22 "Poverty" is not an isolated variable which
operates in precisely the same fashion wherever fOlUld; it is only one in
a complex of identifiably interdependent social and cultural variables.
Poverty as such and consequent limitation of opportunity are not enough
to produce a conspicuously high rate of criminal behavior. Even the no-
torious "poverty in the midst of plenty" will not necessarily lead to this
result. But when poverty and associated disadvantages in competing
for the culture values approved for all members of the society are linked
with a cultural emphasis on pecuniary success as a dominant goal, high
rates of criminal behavior are the nonnal outcome. Thus, crude (and not
necessarily reliable) crime statistics suggest that poverty is less hlghly
correlated with crime in southeastern Europe than in the United States.
The economic life-chances of the poor in these European areas would
seem to be even less promising than in this country, so that neither
poverty nor its association with limited opportunity is sufficient to ac-
count for the varying correlations. However, when we consider the full
configuration-poverty, limited opportunity and the assignment of cul-
tural goals-there appears some basis for explaining the higher correla-
tion between poverty and crime in our society than in others where
rigidified class structure is coupled with differential class symbols of success.
The victims of this contradiction between the cultural emphasis on
pecuniary ambition and the social bars to full opportunity are not al-
ways aware of the structural sotll'ces of their thwarted aspirations. To be
sure, they are often aware of a discrepancy between individual worth
the social rewards. But they do not necessarily see how this comes about.
Those who do find its source in the social structure may become alien-
ated from that structure and become ready candidates for Adaptation V
(rebellion). But others, and this appears to include the great majority,
may attribute their difficulties to more mystical and less sociological
sources. For as the distinguished classicist and sociologist-in-spite-of
himself, Gilbert Murray, has remarked in this general connection, "The
best seed-ground for superstition is a society in which the fortunes of
men seem to bear practically no relation to their merits and efforts. Asta-
ble and well-governed society does tend, speaking roughly, to ensure
that the Virtuous and Industrious Apprentice shall succeed in life, while
the Wicked and Idle Apprentice fails. And in such a society people tend
to l::lV "fTp.;:,.;:, nn thp rp;J.;:nn::lhJp lir vidhl", rh!!;nc: nE '-'!!11C::>hnn Rnf. in
12. Robert K. Mertoo 157
ciety suffering from anomie] ... , the ordinary virtues of diligence, hon-
esty, and kindliness seem to be of little avail."23 And in such a society
people tend to put stress on mysticism: the workings of Fortune, Chance,
Luck.
In point of fact, both the eminently "successful" and the eminently
"unsuccessful" in our society not infrequently attribute the outcome to
"luck." Thus, the prosperous man of business, Julius Rosenwald, de-
clared that 95% of the great fortunes were "due to luck.":?4 And a leading
business journal, in an editorial explaining the social benefits of great in-
dividual wealth, finds it necessary to supplement wisdom with luck as
the factors accounting for great fortunes: "When one man through wise
investments-aided, we'll grant, by good luck in many cases~accu­
mulates a few millions, he doesn't thereby take something from the rest
of us."2.5 In much the same fashion, the worker often explains econom-
ic status in terms of chance. "The worker sees all about him experienced
and skilled men ,vith no work to do. If he is in work, he feels lucky. If he
is out of work, he is the victim of hard luck. He can see little relatioll be-
hveen worth and consequences. "26
But these references to the workings of chance and luck serve dis-
tinctive functions according to whether they are made by those who
have reached or those who have not reached the culturally emphasized
goals. For the successful, it is in psychological terms, a disarming ex-
pression of modesty. It is far removed from any semblance of conceit to
say, in effect, that one was lucky rather than altogether deserving to
one's good fortune. In sociological terms, the doctrine of luck as ex-
pounded by the successful serves the dual function of explaining the
frequent discrepancy between merit and reward while keeping immune
from criticism a social structure which allows this discrepancy to be-
come frequent. For if success is primarily a matter of luck, if it is just in
the blind nature of things, if it bloweth where it listeth and thou canst
not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth, then surely it is beyond
control and will occur in the same measure whatever tlte social stTllctlll'e.
For the unsuccessful and particularly for those among the unsuc-
cessful who find little reward for their merit and their effort, the doctrine
oJ luck serves the psychological function of enabling them to preserve
their self-esteem in the face of failure. It may also entail the dysfunction
of curbing motivation for sustained endeavor,27 Sociologically, as im-
plied by Bakke," the doctrine may reflect a failure to comprehend the
workings of the social and economic system, and may be dysfunctional
inasmuch as it eliminates the rationale of working for structural changes
maldng for greater equities in opporhmity and reward.
This orientation toward chance and risk-taking, accentuated by the
r':1.o'n- ",-1-,..,,; ....... c C___ '--_.l._-l ___ : __ ...:~_~ ....... _" J.. .... J .... .-.".... 1,,; ..... ~h" ............], .... ri ; ... ~" ..",['~;M

..1-'--'0 Anomie
gambling-an institutionally proscribed or at best permitted rather than
preferred or prescribed mode of activity-within certain social strata. 29
Among those who do not apply the doctrine of luck to the gulf be-
hveen merit, effort and reward there may develop an individuated and
cynical attitude towm'd the social structure, best exemplified in the cul-
tural cliche that /lit's not what you know, but who you know, that
counts."
.In societies such as our OWll, then, the great cultural emphasis on pe-
c:mxary success for all and a social structure which unduly limits prac-
tical recourse to approved means for many set up a tension toward
innovative practices which depart from institutional norms. But this
form of adaptation presupposes that individuals have been imperfectly
socialized so that they abandon institutional means while retaining the
success-aspiration. Among those who have fully internalized the insti-
tutional values, however, a comparable situation is more likely to lead to
an alternative response in which the goal is abandoned but conformity
to the mores persists. This type of response calls for further examination.
III. RITUALISM
The ritualistic type of adaptation can be readily identified. It involves the
abandoning or scaling down of the lofty cultural goals of great pecu-
ruary success and rapid social mobility to the point where one's aspira-
tions can be satisfied. But though one rejects the cultural obligation to
attempt Uta get ahead in the world," though one draws in one's hori-
zons, one continues to abide almost compulsively by institutional
norms,
It is something of a terminological quibbJe to ask whether this rep-
resents genuinely deviant behavior. Since the adaptation is, in effect, an
internal decision and since the overt behavior is institutionally permit-
ted, though not culturally preferred, it is not generally considered to
represent a social problem. Intimates of individuals making this adap-
tation may pass judgment in terms of prevailing cultural emphases and
may "feel sorry for them," they may, in the individual case, feel that
"old Jonesy is certainly in a rut." Whether this is described as deviant be-
havior or no, it clearly represents a departure from the cultural model in
which men are obliged to strive actively, preferably through institu-
tionalized procedures, to move onward and upward in the social hier-
archy.
We should expect this type of adaptation to be fairly frequent in a
soc~ety which makes one's social status largely dependent upon one's
achievements, For, as has so often been observed,3ll this ceaseless COffi-
1
12. Robert K. Merton 159
1
petitive struggle produces acute status an.-,(}~ty, ?ne device for allaying
these anxieties is to lower one's level of aspIratIon-permanently. Fear
"dt'31
produces inaction, or more accw:ate 1~r, r?uhruze a~ .wn:. . 1
TIle syndrome of the social ntualist IS both fanuhar and mstructlVe.
His implicit life-philosophy finds expression in a series of cultural
cliches: "I'm not sticking my neck out," ''I'm playing safe/' ''I'm satisfied
with what I've got," "Don't aim high and you won't be disappointed." 1
The theme threaded through these attitudes is U,at high ambitions invite
frustration and danger whereas lower aspirations produce satisfaction
and security. It is a response to a situation which appears threatening
and excites distrust. It is the attihIde implicit among workers who care- 1
fully regulate their output to a constant quota in an industrial organi-
zation where they have occasion to fear that they will "be noticed" by
managerial personnel and II something will happen" if their output rises
and falls." It is the perspective of the frightened employee, the zeal- 1
ously conformist bureaucra: in the teller'~ cage of the priv.ate3~an~~g
enterprise or in the front office of the pubhc works ~nterpn~e. It 15, ID
short, the mode of adaptation of individually seeking a pnvate escape
from the dangers and frustrations which seem to them inherent in the
1
competition for major cultural goals by abandoning the~e g~al~ and
clinging all the more closely to the safe routines and the mstitutlOnal
norms.
If we should expect lower-dass Americans to exhibit Adaptation II-
1
"innovation"-to the frustrations enjoined by the prevailing emphaSiS
on large cultural goals and the fact of small social opportunities, we
should expect lower-middle class Americans to be heavily represented 1
among those making Adaptation rn,
flritual~sm_" For it is in the low~r
middle class that parents typically exert continuous pressure upon ch11-
dren to abide by the moral mandates of the society, and where the social
climb upv.,rard is less likely to meet with success than among the upper 1
midd1e class. The strong disciplining for conformity with mores reduces
the likelihood of Adaptation [! and promotes the likelihood of Adapta-
tion ill. The severe training leads many to carry a heavy burden of anx-
iety. The socialization patterns of the lower middle class thus p:omot.e 1
the very character structure most predisposed toward ritulism,J" and It
is in this stratum, accordingly, that the adaptive pattern III should most
often occur.):;;
But we should note again, as at the outset of this chapter, that "ve are 1
here examining !!lOdes of ndnptntiOll to contradictions in the cultural and
social structure: we are not focusing on character or personality types.
Individuals caught up in these contradictions can and do move from
one type of adaptation to another. TI1uS it may be conjectured that some 1
..;{-, • .,I;,..1-.... ,..,..~c,..,. ......... :~ .... _nJ.;~_.1 ____ 1.. t_ d __ . _,', " 1 ,
1
 1
1
12. Robert 1(. Merton 161
1
, ' h ultimately lead him to "escape" from the re- 1
steeped in the regulations that they become bureaucratic virtuosos, that cape mechanISms w~cty It is thus an expedient which arises from con·
they over-conform precisely because they are subject to guilt engen- uirements of the sooe. 1 b te itimate measures and from an
~ued failure to n~ar tl~~:e rJute ~ecause of internalized prohibi-
1
dered by previous nonconfonnity with the rules (i.e"Adaptation IT), And
the occasional passage from ritualistic adaptation to dramatic kinds of il- inability to use the ill€?ll while tlie supreme value of the s!l~cess-goal has
licit adaptation is well-documented in clinical case-histories and often non, this process occl;r~lg conflict is resolved by abandonmg [Jotll pre- 1
set forth in insightful fiction, Defiant outbreaks not infrequently follow Hot yet been rel101/HCe. 1e 1 d the means. The escape is complete,
, lements the goa s an l' d
upon prolonged periods of over-compliance, 36 But though the psycho- cipitatiI1~ e. . . ' ated and the individual is asoda lze. " . 1
dynamic mechanisms of this type of adaptation have been fairly well the conflict IS elinun . tIif this type of deviant behavlOr 1S most
a
identified and linked with patterns of discipline and socialization in the In publiC and ceremoru ;,'0 a1 representatives of the society. In
family, much sociological research is still required to explain why these heartily con
demned by conven 1 n
nf ' t ha keeps the wheels of sOClety runn ,
. ing 1
patterns are presumably mare frequent in certain social strata and contrast to the co onms , w liability. in contrast to the innovator
ti
groups than in others. Our own discussion has merely set out one ana- this deviant is a non-pro d udc vte 1y stri~ing he seeS no value in the 1
I " mart" an ae l v e , I 'tu
lytical framework for sociological research focused on this problem. who is at east 5 ul ' s SO highly' in contrast to t le n -
I hi 1 the c ture pnze ' . th
SllccesS-goa w C1 1 t t the moreS, he pays scant attentlO n to e
alist who conforms at eaS 0 1
IV. RETREATISM institutional practice:, li htly accept these repudiations of its values.
Nor does the sOClety g
Id be to put these va ues
I into question Those who have
"h t
1
Just as Adaptation I (conformity) remains the most frequent, Adapta- To do so wou ss are relentlessly pursued to therr aun s
abandoned the quest for succe. ll't members orient themselves to
tion IV (the rejection of cultural goals and institutional means) is prob- . "stent upon havmg a 1 s
by a SOCiety m s t , f Chicago's Hobohemia are :le 00
tl b k 1
ably the least common, People who adapt (or maladapt) in this fashion .' Thus m the heart 0 ,
are, strictly speaking, in the society but not of it. Sociologically, these succeS5~StnVll1g. 'd· cl to revitalize dead aspirations.
constitute the true aliens. Not sharing the common frame of values, they
stalls filled with wares eSlgne 1
. ' 1 € basement of art old residence, .built
can be included as members of the sociehj (in distinction from the popu- 111e Gold Coast Book Store 1S tn t ~andwiched between two busmess
lation) only in a fictional sense. back from the str~ec~n~ ~o~led wilh stalls, and striking placardS 1
In this category fall some of the adaptive activities of psycho tics, blocks. The space m uon 15
autists l pariahs, outcasts, vagrants, vagabonds, tramps, chronic drunk- and posters, , . 1 books as will arrest the attention of
ards and drug addicts.'7 They have relinquished culturally prescribed These posters advertise ~~~ ':",Men in thousands pass this spot 1
the down-and~out. One rea. t financially successful. They are
goals and their behavior does not accord with institutional norms. This daily, but the majority ?f them hare dnoof the rent men. Instead ot that,
is not to say that in some cases the source of their mode of adaptation is never more t han t W o)umps8. ea " "Getting Ahead of the GamE', "
d cl' 1
not the very social structure which they have in effect repudiated nor they should be more bold an danntg'th'~m on the I'unk heap of htunan
'ther- them all t cas
before 0 Id age "\'lf1;:' 5 ...
l ' \ fate-the fate ofthe vasl ma)or-
'
that their very existence within an area does not constitute a problem for
members of the SOciety.
wrecks. If you want to escape 1e eVi j'TI' Law 0' Fi!l(I11c1fl/ SI/ccess, It
'andgetacopyo ~
1
ity of men-corne 1.n <. I d andIt put you on the lugIu-oa dt a
From the standpoint of its sources in the social structure, this mode will put some ne\\' tdeas tn your 1ea ,
of adaptation is most likely to occur when both the culture goals and success, 35 cents. I 't ring bdore its stalls. But they seldom 1
There i'Jre alway~ ~\Cn ,Ol e t thirty~five ceols, to the hobo.
JB
the institutional practices have been thoroughly assimilated by the in-
buy. Success comes hlg 1, €\ en a
dividual and imbued with affect and high value, but accessible institu-
tional avenues are not productive of success. There results a t\¥ofold " d' real life, he may become a source 1
But if this deVIant 1S cor:demne ~ diner has advanced the specu-
conflict: the interiorized moral obligation for adopting institutional
means conflicts with pressures to resort to illicit means (which may at- of gratification in. fantasy-lIfe. ~:s or:r 1 folU;re and popular culture 1
lation that such hgures ID cont b ~ s~ectade of men rejecting current
tain the goal) and the individual is shut off from means which are both
legitimate and effective. The competitive order is maintained but the bolster "morale and self-esteem
ideals and expressing contempt or em.
l
t~ " The prototype in the films is
1
frustrated and handicapped individual who cannot cope with this order _ r _. . r1, _ 1:_ r l . __ 1: __ '_ I_ •• _~

drops out, Defeatism, quietism and resignation are mani fpd.:>r1 ;,.. " ...
1
162 Anomie
~Ie is !vIr. Nobody and is very much aware of his own significance. He
IS always the butt of a crazy and bewildering world in which he has no
place and from which he constantly runs away into a contented do-
not~gness. He isfree from cOlifIict beemlse Ire !/as abulldoned the quest for
SeClt rlty alld prestige, alld is resigned to the lack of allY claim to virtuE or dis-
tillctiOll. [A precise characterological portrait of Adaptation IV] He al-
ways becomes involved in the world by accident. There he encounters
evil and aggression against the weak and helpless which he has no
power to combat. Yet always, in spite of himself, he becomes the cham-
p~o~ of ~~ wronged ~nd oppressed, not by virtue of his great orga-
nlzmg abIlity but bYV1rtue of homely and insolent trickiness by which
he seeks out the weakness of the wrongdoer. He always remains hum-
ble, poor, ~nd lonely, but is contemptuous of the incomprehensible
world and Its values. He therefore represents the character of our time
wh? is pelple~ed by tlle dilemma either of beillg crushed in tile stmggIe to
ac!l1f?'"ve !hc SOCially approved goals of sl/ccess and power (he achieves it only
o-?ce-m The Gold Rush) or of slIccumbil1g to n hopeless resignation aJld
flight from them. Charlie's bum is a great comfort in that he gloats in his
ability to outwit the pernicious forces aligned against him if he choos-
es to do so and affords every man U1e satisfaction of feeling that the ul-
timate flight from social goals to loneliness is an act of cllOice and not a
symptom of his defeat. Mickey Mouse is a continuation of the Chaplin
saga.39
This fourth mode of adaptation, then, is that of the socially disinherited
who if they have none of the rewards held out by society also have few
of the frustrations attendant upon continuing to seek these rewards. It is,
moreover, a privatized rather than a collective mode of adaptation. Al-
though people exhibiting this deviant behavior may gravitate towards
centers where they come into contact with the other deviants and al-
though they may come to share in the subculture of these deviant
groups, their adaptations are largely private and isolated rather than
unified under the aegis of a new cultural code. The type of collective
adaptation remains to be considered.
V. REBELLION
This adaptation leads men outside the environing social structure to en-
visage and seek to bring into being a new, that is to say, a greatly mod-
ified social structure. It presupposes alienation from reigning goals and
standards. These come to be regarded as purely arbitrary. And the arbi-
trary is precisely that which can neither exact allegiance nor possess le-
gitimacy, for it might as well be otherwise. In our society, organized
movements for rebellion apparently aim to introduce a social structure
in which the cultural standards of success would be sharply modified
12. Roberl K. Merton 163
and provision would be made for a closer correspondence between
merit, effort and reward. .
But before exanUning "rebellion" as a mode of adaptation, we must
distino-uish it from a superficially similar but essentially di!ferent type,
SSell~7IleHt. Introduced in a special teclmical sense, by NIetzsche, the
:~ncept of reSSel1tilllC11t was tal<en up and devel~ped sOci.ologicaIly by
Max Scheler:wThis complex sentiment has three mterlockmg eleme~ts.
First, diffuse feelings of hate, envy and hostility; second, a sense of be~g
owerless to express these feelings actively against the person or SOCIal
~tratwn evoking them; and third, a continual re-experiencing,of this im-
potent hostility.M The essential point distinguishi~g rcsscl1tlll!Cnt from
rebellion is that the former does not involve a ger:wne change m values.
Rcssenti1llellt involves a sour-grapes pattern which asserts merely .that
desired but unattainable objectives do not actually embody the pnzed
values-after ali, the fox in the fable does not say that he abandons all
taste for sweet grapes; he says only that these particular grapes are not
sweet. Rebellion, on the other hand, involves a genuine transvaluation,
where the direct or vicarious experience of frustration leads to full de-
nlmciation of previously prized values-the rebellious fox ~imply re-
nounces the prevailing taste for sweet grapes. In ressentllllCJ1t, one
condemns what one secretly craves; in rebellion, one condemns the crav-
ing itself. But though the two are distinct, organized rebellio~ m.ay ~raw
upon a vast reservoir of the resentful and discontented as mshtutional
dislocations become acute.
When the institutional system is regarded as the barrier to the sat-
isfaction of legitimized goals, the stage is set for rebellion as an adaptive
response. To pass into organized political action, allegiance must not
anI y be withdrawn from the prevailing social structure but must be
42
transferred to new groups possessed of a new myth. The dual function
of the myth is to locate tlle source of large-scale frust:ations in the social
structure and to portray an alternative structure whIch would not, pre-
sumably, give rise to frustration of the deserving. It is a charter for ac-
tion. In this context, the functions of the counter-myth of the
conservatives-briefly sketched in an earlier section of this chapter-
become further clarified: whatever the source of mass frustration, it is
not to be found in tlle basic structure of the society. The conservative
myth may thus assert that these frustrations are in the nature of things
and would occur in allY social system: "Periodic mass unemployment
and business depressions can't be legislated out of existence; it's just
like a person who feels good one day and bad the next."43 ~r, if no~ the
doctrine of inevitability, then the doctrine of gradual and slight adJust-
ment: "A few changes here and there, and we'll have things running as
 164 Anomie
ship-shape as they can possibly be." Or, the doctrine which deflects hos-
tility from the social structure onto the individual who is a "failure"
since "every man really gets what's coming to him in this counhy"
The myths of rebellion and of conservatism both work toward a
"monopoly of tile imagination" seeking to define the situation in such
terms as to move the frustrate toward or away from Adaptation V. It is
above all the renegade who, though himself successful, renounces the
preva~ing val~es that becomes the target of greatest hostility among
those m rebellion. For he not only puts the values in question, as does
the outgroup, but he signifies that the unity of the group is broken:14
Yet, as has so often been noted, it is typically members of a rising class
rather than the most depressed strata who organize the resentful and
the rebellious into a revolutionary group.
THE STRAIN TOWARD ANOMIE
The social structure we have examined produces a strain toward anomie
an? devi~lt behavi~r. The pressure of such a social order is upon out-
do~? one ~ competitors. So long as the sentiments supporting this com-
petItIve system are distributed throughout the entire range of activities
and are not confined to the final result of "success," the choice of means
will remain largely within the ambit of institutional control. When, how-
ever, th~ .cul~al emphasis shifts from the salisfactions deriving from
competItIon Itself to almost exclusive concern with the outcome, the re-
sultant stress makes for the breakdown of the regulatory structure. With
this atte~ua~on of institutional controls, there occurs an approximation
to ~e sItuation erroneously held by the utilitarian philosophers to be
typICal of socie~, a situation in which calculations of personal advantage
and fear of purushment are the only regulating agencies.
. This strain toward anomie does not operate evenly throughout the
soclety. Some effort has been made in the present analysis to suggest the
strata most vulnerable to the pressures for deviant behavior and to set
forth some of the mechanisms operating to produce those pressures.
For purposes of simplifying the problem, monetary success was taken
as the. major cult~ral goal, although there are, of course, alternative
goals ill the reposItory of common values. The realms of intellectual
and artis:ic achievement, for example, provide alternative career pat-
terns whIch may not entail large pecuniary rewards. To the extent that
the cultural structure attaches prestige to these alternatives and the so-
cial structure permits access to them, the system is somewhat stabi-
lized. Potential deviants may still conform in terms of these auxiliary
__ __ £ •• _1 •• __
~
12. Robert K. Merton 165
But the central tendencies toward anomie remain, and it is to these
that the analytical scheme here set forth calls particular attention.
THE ROLE OF THE FAMILY
A final word should be said drawing together the implications scattered
throughout the foregoing discussion concerning the role played by the
fa.n1ily in these patterns of deviant behavior.
It is the family, of course, which is a major transmission belt for the
diffusion of cultural standards to the oncoming generation. But what
has until lately been overlooked is that the family largely transmits that
portion of the culture accessible to ~he social stratum and. groups .in
which the parents find themselves. It IS, therefore, a mechamsm for dIS-
ciplining the child in terms of the cultural goals and mores characteris-
tic of this narrow range of groups. Nor is the socialization confined to
direct training the disciplining. The process is, at least in part, inadver-
tent. Quite apart from direct admonitions, rewards and punislunents,
the child is exposed to social prototypes in the witnessed daily behavior
and casual conversations of parents. Not infrequently, childrCll detect l1J1d
incorporate cultllral 11llifol1llities even when these remain implicit a11d have
Hot been reduced to rules.
Language patterns provide the most impressive evidence, r~a~ily
observable in clinical fashion, that cluldren, in the process of socIa11za-
tion, detect uniformities which have not been explicitly formulated for
them by elders or contemporaries and which are not formulated by the
children themselves. Persistent errors of language among children are
most instructive. Thus, the child will spontaneously use such words as
"mouses" or "moneys," eVe1! fllDllgh he lms never heard sHch tenlls or been
taught "the rllle forfofllliJlg plurals." Or he will create such words as "fall-
ed," "runned," "singed," "hitted," though he has not been taught, at
the age of three, "rules" of conjugation. Or, he will refer to a choice
morsel as gooder" than another less favored, or perhaps through a log-
JI
ical extension, he may describe it as "good est" of all. Obviously, he has
detected the implicit paradigms for the expression of plurality, for the
conjugation of verbs, ~d the inflection of adjectives. The very ~nature of
his error and misapplication of the paradigm testifies to this.-b
It may be tentatively inferred, therefore, that he is also busily en-
gaged in detecting and acting UpOIl the implicit paradigms of cultural evalu-
ation, and categorization of people and tTljUgS, and the formation of estimable
goals as well as assimilating the explicit cultural orientation set forth in
an endless stream of commands, explanations and exhortations by par-
pnts. Tt would appear that in addition to the important researches of the
166 Anomie
depth psychologies on the socialization process, there is need for sup- '
plementary types of direct observation of culture diffusion within the
family. It may well be that the child retains the implicit paradigm of cul-
tural values detected in the day-by-day behavior of his parents even
when this conflicts with their explicit advice and exhortations.
TIle projection a/parental ambitio1Is onto the child is also centrally rel-
evant to the subject in hand. As is well known, many parents confront-
ed with personal "failure" or limited "success" may mute their original
goal-emphasis and may defer further efforts to reach the goal, attempt-
ing to reach it vicariously through their children. "The influence may
come through the mother or the father. Often it is the case of a parent
who hopes that the child will attain heights that he or she failed to at-
tam."'16 In a recent research on the social organization of public housing
developments, we have found among both Negroes and Whites on
lower occupational levels, a substantial proportion having aspirations
for a professional career for their children.47 Should this finding be con-
firmed by further research it will have large bearing upon the problem
in hand. For if compensatory projection of parental ambition onto chil-
dren is widespread, then it is precisely those parents least able to provide
free access to opportunity for their children-the "failures" and "frus-
trates"-who exert great pressure upon their children for high achieve-
ment. And this syndrome of lofty aspirations and limited realistic
opportunities, as we have seen, is precisely the pattern which invites
deviant behavior. This clearly points to the need for investigation fo-
cused upon occupational goal-formation in the several social strata if
the inadvertent role of family disciplining in deviant behavior is to be
understood from the perspectives of OUI analytical scheme.
CONCLUDING REMARKS
It should be apparent that the foregoing discussion is not pitched on a
moralistic plane. Whatever the sentiments of the reader concerning the
moral desirability of coordinating the goals-and-means phases of the
social structure, it is clear that imperfect coordination of the hvo leads to
anomie. In so far as one of the most general functions of social struc-
ture is to provide a basis for predictability and regularity of social be-
havior, it becomes increasingly limited in effectiveness as these elements
of the social structure become dissociated. At the extreme, predictabili-
ty is minimized and what may be properly called anomie or cultural
chaos supervenes.
This essay on the structural sources of deviant behavior remains
hilt ~ nr01 11 .-:1 o Tf- },,,'" n,-,.f- ; ... ,.,1 .. .-1".-1 .. .-l~J. .. ;l,,-l :....~_~
12. Robert K Merton 167
elements which predispose toward one rather than another of the alter-
native responses open to individuals living in an ill-balanced social
structure; it has largely neglected but not denied the relevance of the
social-psychological processes detennining the specific incidence of
these responses; it has only briefly considered the social functions ful-
filled by deviant behavior; it has not put the explanatory power of the
analytical scheme to full empirical test by determining group variations
in deviant and conformist behavior; it is only touched upon rebellious
behavior which seeks to refasruon the social framework.
It is suggested that these and related problems may be advanta-
geously analyzed by use of this scheme.
NOTES
1. See, for example, S. Freud, Civilization alld Its Discolltents (passim, and
esp. at 63); Ernest Jones, Social Aspects of PsycJlOmwlysis (London, 1924),
28. If the Freudian notion is a variety of the "original sin" doctrine, then
the interpretation advanced in this paper is a doctrine of "socially de-
rived sin."
2. "Normal" in the sense of the psychologically expect-able, if not culturally
approved, response to determinate social conditions. This statement does
not, of course, deny the role of biological and personality differences in
fixing the incidence of deviant behavior. It is simply that this is not the
problem considered here. It is in this same sense, I take it, that lames S.
Plant speaks of the "nonnal reaction of normal people to abnormal condi-
tions." See his Personality alld tfIe Cultural Pa/lefll (New York, 1937), 248.
3. The position taken here has been perceptively described by Edwilrd
Sapir. " ... problems of social science differ from problems of individual
beJlavior in degree of specificity, not in kind. Every statement about be-
havior which throws the emphasis, explicitly or implicitly, on the actual,
integral experiences of defined personalities or types of persomdilies is a
datwu of psychology or psychiatry rather than of social science. Every
statement about behavior ·which aims, not to be accurate about the be-
havior of an actual individuill or individuals or about the expected be-
havior of a physically and psychologically defined type of individual,
but which abstracts from such behavior in order to bring out in clear re-
lief certain expectancies with regard to those aspects of individual be-
havior ..vhieh various people share, as an interpersonal or 'social'
pattern, is a datum, however crudely expressed, of social science." I haw
here chosen the second perspective; although I shall have occasion to
speak of attitudes, values and function, it will be from the standpOint of
how the social structure promotes or inhibits their appearance in speci-
fied types of situations. Sce Sapir. "Why cultural anthropology needs the
__ .I. _C d ___ ,-.
 168 Anomie
4. This ritualism may be associated with a mythology which rationalizes
these practices so that they appear to retain their status as means, but the
dominant pressure is toward strict ritualistic conformity, irrespective of
the mythology. Ritualism is thus most complete when such rationaliza-
tions are not even called forth.
5. In this connection, one sees the relevance of Elton Mayo's paraphrase of
the title of Tawney's well-known book. "Actually the problem is I/Ot that
of the sickness of all acquisitive society; it is tlwt of the acquisitiveness of a sick
sociChj." HlIl1tnll Problems of all Itldllstrialized Civi/izatioll, 153. Mayo deals
with the process through which wealth comes to be the basic symbol of
so~al achievement and sees this as arising from a state of anamie. My
major concern here is with the social consequences of a heavy emphasis
upon monetary success as a goal in a society which has nol adapted its
structure to the implications of this emphasis. A complete analysis would
require the simultaneous examination of both processes.
6. Durkheim's resurrection of the term "anomie" which, so far as I know,
first appears in approximately the same sense in the late sixteenth centu-
ry, might well become the object of an investigation by a student interest-
ed in the historical filiation of ideas. Like the term "climate of opinion"
brought into academic and political popularity by A. N. Whitehead three
centuries after it was coined by Joseph Glanvill, the word "anomie" (or
anomy or anomia) has lately come into frequent use, once it was re-intro-
duced by Durkheim. Why the resonance in contemporary society? For a
magnificent model of the type of research required by questions of tltis
order, see Leo Spitzer, Milieu alld Ambiance: an essay in historical seman-
tics," PltilosopllY and P/ze1lomeltoiogical Research, 1942,3,1--42,169-218.
7. It appears unlikely that cttlhual norms, once interiorized, are wholly
eliminated. Whatever residuum perSists will induce personality tensions
and conflict, with some measure of ambivalence. A manifest rejection of
the once-incorporated institutional nonns will be coupled with some la-
tent retention of their emotional correlates. Guilt feelings, a sense of sin,
pangs of conscience are diverse terms referring to this unrelieved ten-
sion. Symbolic adherence to the nominally repudiated values or rational-
izations for the rejection of these values constitute a more subtle
expression of these tensions.
B. "Many," not all, unintegrated groups, for the reason mentioned earlier.
In groups where the primary emphasis shifts to institutional means, the
outcome is nonnally a type of ritualism rather than anomie.
9. Leo C. Rosten, Hollywood (New York), 1940, 40.
10. Malcolrn S. MacLean, Scholars, Workers alld GeHtlemen (Harvard Universi-
ty Press, 1938), 29.
11. Cf A. W. Griswold, Tlle American Cult of Success (Yale University doctoral
dissertation, 1933); R. O. Carlson, "Persollality Schools": A Sociological
Analysis (Columbia University Master's Essay, 1948).
12. There is no lack of typologies of alternative modes of response to frus-
trating conditions. Freud, in his Civilization alld Its Discontents (p. 30 ff.)
~ •• __ l; _____ . ..:1 __ ' ___ " ___ ' l' r. ..,~. •• . • .. _._
12. Robert K Merton 169
be fotmd in Karen Homey, Neurotic Personalih) of Our Time (New York,
1937); S. Rosenzweig, "TI1e experimental measurement of types of reac-
tion lo frustration," in H. A. Murray ct al., Explorations ill PCl'sol1alih)
(New York, 1938). 585-99; and in the work of John Dollard, Harold Lass-
well, Abram Kardiner, Erich Fromm. Butparticularly in the strictly
Freudian typology, the perspective is that of types of individual respons-
es, quite apart from the place of the individual within the social struc-
ture. Despite her consistent concern with "culture," for example, Homey
does not explore differences in the impact of this culture upon farmer,
worker and businessman, upon lower-, middle-, and upper-class indi-
viduals, upon members of various ethnic and racial groups, etc. As a re-
sult, the role of "inconsistencies in culture" is 1lot located in its
differential impact upon diversely situated groups. Culture becomes a
kind of blanket covering all members of the society equally, apart from
their idiosyncratic differences of life-history. It is a primary assumption
of our typology that these responses occur with different frequency with-
in various sub-groups in our society precisely because members of these
groups or strata are differentially subject to cultural stimulation and so-
cial restraints. This sociological orientation will be found in the writings
of Dollard and, less systematically, in the work of Fromrn, Kardiner and
Lasswell. On the general point, see note 3 of this chapter.
13. This fifth alternative is on a plane clearly different from that of the oth-
ers. It represents a transitional response seeking to illstitutiol1alize new
goals and new procedures to be shared by other members of the society.
It thus refers to efforts to cl1nl1ge the existing cultural and social structure
rather than to accommodate efforts within this structure.
14. The observations by Dickens are from his American Notes (in the edition,
for example, publiShed in Boston: Books, Inc., 1940), 218. A sociological
analysiS which would be the formal, albeit inevitably lesser, counterpart
of Frued's psycholOgical analysis of the functions of tendentious wit and
of tendentious wits is long overdue. The doctoral dissertation by Jean-
nette Tandy, though not sociological in character, affords one point of de-
parture: Crackcl'box Philosophers: American Ht/mol' alld Satire (New York:
Columbia University Press, 1925). In Chapter V of Intellectual America
(New York: Macmillan, 1941), appropriately entitled, "TI1e Intelli-
gentsia," Oscar Cargill has some compact observations on the role of the
nineteenth century masters of American wit, but this naturally has only a
small place in this large book on the "march of American ideas." The
essay by Bierce from which I have quoted at such length will be found in
The Collected Works of A11lbrosc Bierce (New York and Washington: The
Neale Publishing Company, 1912), volume XI, 187-198. For what it is
worth, I must differ with the harsh and far from justified judgment of
Cargill on Bierce. It seems to be less a judgment than the expression of a
prejudice which, in Bierce's own understanding of "prejudice," is only "a
vagrant opinion without visible means of support."
15. E. H. Sutherland, "White collar criminality," op. cif.; "Crime and busi-
~ ",.~ ... ...
~
 170 Anomie
112-118; "Is 'white collar crime' crime?", American Socioloo-ical Review
1945, ID, 132-139; MarshalI B. CUnard, The Black Market:;: Study ofW,lite
Collar Criml! (New York: Rinehart & Co., 1952); Donald R. Cressey, Ot/lcr
People's Money: A Study in the Social Psycl/Ologzj of Embezzlemeltt (Glencoe:
The Free Press, 1953).
16. James S. Wallerstein and Clement J. Wyle, "Our law-abiding law-break-
ers," Probation, April, 1947.
17. National Opinion Research Center, NntiOlwl Opinion all Occupatiolls,
April, 1947. This research on the ranking and evaluation of ninety occu-
pations by a nation-wide sample presents a series of important empirical
data. Of great significance is their finding that, despite a slight tendency
for people to rank their own and related occupations higher than do
other groups, there is substantial agreement in ranking of occupations
among all occupational strata. More researchers of this kind are needed
to map the cultural topography of contemporary societies. (See the com-
parative study of prestige accorded major occupations in six industrial-
ized countries: Alex Inkeles and Peter H. Rossi, "National comparisons
of occupational prestige," Americall JOl/mal of Sociology, 1956,61,
329-339).
18. See Joseph D. Lohrnan, "The participant observer in community stud-
ies," American Sociological Review, 1937,2,890-98 and William F. Whyte,
Street Comer Society (Chicago, 1943). Note Whyte's conclusions: "It is dif-
ficult for the Cornerville man to get onto the ladder [of success], even on
the bottom rung .... He is an Italian, and the Italians are looked upon by
upper-class people as among the least desirable of the immigrant peo-
pies ... the sodety holds out attractive rewards in tenns of money and
material possessions to the "successful' man. For most Cornerville peo-
ple these rewards are available only through advancement in the world
of rackets and politics." (273-74)
19. Numerous studies have found that the educational pyramid operates to
keep a large proportion of unquestionably able but economically disad-
vantaged youth from obtaining higher fonnaI education. This fact about
our class Structure has been noted with dismay, for example, by Van-
nevar Bush in his governmental report, Sciellce: The Endless Frontier. Also,
see W. L. Warner, R.]. Havighurst and M.B. Loeb, Who Shall be Educated?
(New York, 1944).
20. The shifting historical role of his ideology is a profitable subject for ex-
ploration.
21. The role of the Negro in this connection raises almost as many theoretical
as practical questions. It has been reported that large segments of the
Negro population have assimilated the dominant caste's values of pecu-
niary success and social advancement, but have "realistically adjusted"
themselves to the "fact" that social ascent is presently confined almost
entirely to movement within the caste. See Dollard, Caste alld Class ill a
SOil them Town, 66 ft.; Donald Young, American Minority Peoples, 581;
Robert A. Warner, New Haven Negroes (New Haven, 1940), 234. See also
thp. ,"llh"Cln •• an~ rl;" .... ''',.,: ... ~;~ ~1..: __ 1.. __ -'-__
12. Robert K. Merton 171
22. This analytical scheme may serve to resolve some of the apparent incon-
sistencies in the relation between crime and economic status mentioned
by P.A. Sorokin. For example, he notes that "not everywhere nor always
do the poor show a greater proportion of crime ... many poorer counlnes
have had less crime than the richer countries .... The economic improve-
ment in the second half of the nineteenth century, and the beginning of
the twentieth, has not been followed by a decrease in crime." See his
Contemporary Sociological Theories (New York, 1928), 560-61. The crucial
point is, however, that low economic status plays. a differe~t dynamic
role in different social and cultural structures, as IS set out ill the text.
One should not, therefore, expect a linear correlation between crime and
poverty.
23. Gilbert Murray, Five Stages of Greek Religion (New York, 1925), 164--5. Pro-
fessor Murray's chapter on "The Failure of Nerve," from which I have
taken this excerpt, must surely be ranked among the most civilized and
perceptive sociological analyses in our time. .
24. See the quotation from an interview cited in Gustavus Meyers, HIstory of
the Great Americmt Forhllles (New York, 1937), 706.
25. Natioll's Bllsiness, Vol. 27, No. 9, pp. 8-9.
26. E.W. Bakke, The Unemployable Mall (New York, 1934). p. 14 (I have sup-
plied the emphasis). Bakke hints at the structural sources making for a
belief in luck among workers. "There is a measure of hopelessness in the
sihlation when a man knows that most of his good or ill fortune is out of his
own COJltrol and depends Oil luck." (Emphasis supplied). In so far as he is
forced to accommodate himself to occasionally unpredictable decisions
of management, the worker is subject to job insecurities and anxieties:
another "seed-ground" for belief in destiny, fate, chance. It would be in-
structive to learn if such beliefs become lessened where workers' organi-
zations reduce the probability that their occupational fate will be out of
their own hands.
27. At its extreme, it may invite resignation and routinized activity (Adap-
tation ill) or a fatalistic passivism (Adaptation IV), of which more
presently.
28. Bakke, op. cit. 14, where he suggests that "the worker knows less about
the processes which cause him to succeed or have no chance to succeed
Ulan business or professional people. There are more points, therefore, at
which events appear to have their incidence in good or ill luck."
29. Cf R. A. Warner, New Havell Negroes and Harold F. Gosnell, Negro Politi-
cialls (Chicago, 1935), 123-5, both of whom comment in this general con-
nection on the great interests in 'playing the numbers" among
less-advantaged Negroes.
30. See, for example, H. S. Sullivan, "Modem conceptions of psychiatry,"
Psychiatry, 1940,3, 111-12; Margaret Mead,AJJd Keep Your Powder On)
(New York, 1942), Chapter VII; Merton, Fiske and Curtis, Mass PerslIa-
SiOll, 59-{iO.
31.
.. .....
~ " "'-' .
P. Janet, liThe fear of action," Joumal of AbnonJlal Psychology, 1921, 16,
,. ,.
 172 Anomie
justments: adaptive regression," op. cif., which bears closely on the type
of adaptation examined here.
32. F.]. Roethlisberger and W. J. Dickson, Management aIld the Workel~ Chap~
!'~r 18 and 531 ff.; and on the more general theme, the typically perspica-
ClOUS remarks of Gilbert Murray, op. cif., 138-39.
33. See the three following chapters [in Merton's Social Theory alld Social
StTllctllrcj.
34. See, for example, Allison Davis and John Dollard, Children afBondage
(Washington, 1940), Chapter 12 ("Child Tmining and Class"), which,
though it deals with the lower- and lower-middle dass patterns of social-
ization among Negroes in the Far South, appears applicable, with slight
modification, to the white population as well. On this, see further M. C.
Eridcson, "Child-rearing and social status," AmericaJl JOllnInl afSociology,
1946,53, 190-92; Allison Davis and R. J. Havighurst, "Social class and
calor differences in child-rearing," American Sociological Review, 1946, 11,
698~71O: " ... the pivotal meaning of social class to students of human deveJ-
opment is that it defines and systematizes different Jearning environ-
ments for children of different classes." "Generalizing from the evidence
presented in the tables, we would say that middle-dass children [the au~
thors do not distinguish betvveen lower-middle and upper-middle strata]
are subjected earlier and more consistently to the influences which make
a child an orderly, conscientious, responsible, and tame person. In the
course of this training middle-class children probably suffer more frus-
tra tion of their impulses."
35. The hypothesis still awaits empirical test. Beginnings in this direction
have been made with the "level of aspiration" experiments which ex-
plore the determinants of goal-formation and modification in spedfic,
experimentally devised activities. There is, however, a major obstacle,
not yet surmounted, in drawing inferences from the laboratory situation,
with its relatively slight ego-involvement with the casual task-pencil-
and~paper mazes, ring-thrOWing, arithmetical problems, etc.-which will
be applicable to the strong emotional investment with success-goals in
the routines of everyday life. Nor have these experiments, with their ad
hoc group formations, been able to reproduce the acute social pressures
obtaining in daily life. (What laboratory experiment reproduces, for ex-
ample, the querulous nagging of a modem Xantippe: "The trouble with
you is, you've got no ambition; a real man would go out and do things"?
Among studies with a definite though limited relevance, see especially
R. Gould, "Some sociological determinants of goal strivings," Joumal of
Social Psychology, 1941, 13, 461-73; 1. Festinger, "Wish, expectation and
group standards as factors influencing level of aspiration," Jounlal of Ab-
1Wl7lwl and Social Psychologtj, 1942, 37, 184-200. For a resume of research-
es, see Kurt Lewin et al., "Level of Aspiration," in J. McV. Htult, ed.,
Personality and tlte BelJavior Disorders (New York, 1944), I, Chap. 10.
The conception of "success" as a ratio betvveen aspiration and
achievement pursued systematically in the level-of~aspiration experi-
_ _ _ L_ J.._~ _c _~ . ' •.• '-'." _. " •., ,~,,- ., ~ ... n
12. Robed K. Merton 173
the prevalence of tms conception among the thinkers of fourth century
Greece. And in Sarior Resartlls, Carlyle observes that "happiness" (grati-
fication) can be represented by a fraction in which the numerator repre~
sents achievement and the denominator, aspiration. Much the same
notion is examined by William James (TIle Principles of Psychology [New
York, 1902], 1,310). See also F. 1. Wells, op. cit., 879, and P.A. Sorokin,
Social and Cultural Dy1lamics (New York, 1937), Ill, 161-164. The critical
question is whether this familiar insight can be subjected to rigorous ex-
perimentation in which the contrived laboratory situation adequately re~
produces the salient aspects of the real-life situation or whether
disciplined observation of routines of behavior in everyday life will
prove the more productive methods of inquiry.
36. In her novel, The Bitter Box (New York, 1946), Eleanor Clark has por-
trayed this process with great sensitivity. The discussion by Erich
Fromm, Escape from Freedom (New York, 1941), 185-206, may be cited,
without implying acceptance of his concept of "spontaneity" and "man's
inherent tendency toward self~development." For an example of a sound
sociological fonnulation: "As long as we assume ... that the anal character,
as it is typical of the European lower middle class, is caused by certain
early experiences in connection with defecation, we have hardly any
data that lead us to understand why a specific class should have an anal
social character. However, if we understand it as one form of relatedness
to others, rooted in the character structure and resulting from the experi~
ences with the outside world, we have a key for lUlderstanding why the
whole mode of life of the lower middle class, its narrowness, isolation,
and hostility, made for the development of this kind of character struc~
ture." (293--4) For an example of a fonnulation stemming from a kind of
latter~day benevolent anarchism here judged as dubious: " ... there are
also certain psychological qualities inherent in man that need to be satis~
fied .... The most important seems to be the tendency to grow, to develop
and realize potentialities which man has developed in the course of his-
tory-as, for instance, the faculty of creative and critical thinking .... It
also seems that this general tendency to grow-which is the psychologi~
cal equivalent of the identical biological tendency-results in such spe~
cific tendencies as the desire for freedom and the hatred against
oppression, since freedom is the fundamental condition for any growth."
(287-ll8).
37. Obviously, this is an elliptical statement. These individuals may retain
some orientation to the values of their own groupings within the larger
society or, occasionally, to the values of the conventional society itself.
They may, in other words, shift to other modes of adaptation. But Adap-
tation IV can be easily detected. Nels Anderson's account of the behavior
and attitudes of the bum, for example, can readily be recast in tenns of
our analytical scheme. See The Hobo (Chicago, 1923),93-98, et passim.
38. H.W. Zorbaugh, The Gold Coast and the 5111111 (Chicago, 1929), 108.
39. Abram Kardiner, The Psychological Frontiers of Society (New York, 1945),
... ,
"l':::O 7(1 ('C .......... ].,,,<-oO' 0"" ....... 1'0,;)
174 Anomie
40. Max Scheler, L'/zolllllle dll resselltimcllt (Paris, n. d.). This essay first ap-
peared in 1912; revised and completed, it was included in Sche1er's Ab-
lJalldhlllgell and AIlJsatze, appearing thereafter in his Vom Umsturz der
Werle (1919). The last text was used for the French translation. It has had
considerable influence.in varied intellectual circles. For an excellent and
well-balanced discussion of Scheler's essay, indicating some of its limita-
tions and biasses, the respects in which it prefigured Nazi conceptions,
its anti-democratic orientation and, \vithal, its occasionally brilliant in-
sights, see V. J. McGill, "Scheler's theory of sympathy and love." Plliloso-
phy and PhCllomellologicnl Research, 1942,2,273-91. For another critical
account which properly criticizes Scheler's view that social structure
plays only a secondary role in ressclltimellt, see Svend Ranulf, Moral In-
dig7lation and Middle-Class Psychology: A Sociological Study (Copenhagen,
1938),199-204.
41. Scheler, op. cit., 55-56. No English word fully reproduces the complex of
elements implied by the word resselltimcllt; its nearest approximation in
Gennan would appear to be Groll.
42. George S. Pettee, Tile Process of Revolution (New York, 1938), 8-24; see
particularly his account of "monopoly of the imagination."
43. R. S. and H. M. Lynd, Middletonm ill Tral1sition (New York, 1937), 408, for
a series of culhrral cliches exemplifying the conservative myth.
44. See the acute observations by George Sinunel, Sozjologie (Leipzig, 1908),
276-77.
45. W. Stem, PsycllOlogy of Early Childhood (New York, 1924), 166, notes the
fact of such errors (e.g., "drinked" for "drank"), but does not draw the in-
ferences regarding the detection of implicit paradigms.
46. H. A. Murray et al., Explorations ill Personality, 307.
47. From a study of the social organization of planned communities by R. K.
Merton, Patricia S. West and M. Jahoda, Patie1'l15 of Social Life.
13 Illegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behavior
RICHARD A. CLOWARD
This paper l represents an attempt to consolidate two major sociological
traditions of thought about the problem of deviant behavior. The first,
exemplified by the work of Emile Durkheim and Robert K. Merton, may
be called the anomie tradition.' The second, illustrated principally by
the studies of Clifford R. Shaw, Henry D. McKay, and Edwin H. Suther-
land, may be called the "cultural transmission" and "differential asso-
ciation" tradition.3 Despite some reciprocal borrowing of ideas, these
intellectual traditions developed more or less independently. By seeking
Reprinted from Richard A. Cloward, "lllegitimate Means, Anomie, and Deviant Behav-
inr." Aml'riml1 Snrinlrwirnl RI'7Jit711. vol. 7.4 (Ami! '9.'i9\. nn.'fi4-17fi.
13. Richard A. Clow<lrd 175
to consolidate them, a more adequate theory of deviant behavior may be
constructed.
DIFFERENTIALS IN AVAILABILITY OF LEGITIMATE
MEANS: THE THEORY OF ANOMIE
The theory of anomie has undergone two major phases of development.
Durkheirn first used the concept to explain deviant behavior. He fo-
cused on the way in which various social conditions lead to "over-
weening ambition," and how, in turn, unlimited aspirations ultimately
produce a breakdown in regulatory norms. Robert 1<. Merton has sys-
tematized and extended the theory, directing attention to patterns of
disjunction between culturally prescribed goals and socially organized
access to them by legitimate means. In this paper, a third phase is out-
lined. An additional variable is incorporated in the developing scheme
of anomie, namely, the concept of differentials iu nccess to success-goals by
illegitil1wte lJzeans. 4
PHASE I: UNLIMITED ASPIRATIONS AND THE BREAKDOWN OF
REGULATORY NORMS
In Durkheim's work, a basic distinction is made between "physical
needs" and "moral needs." The importance of this distinction was
heightened for Durkheim because he viewed physical needs as being
regulated automatically by feahrres of man's organic sbucture. Noth-
ing in the organic structure, however, is capable of regulating social de-
sires; as Durkheim put it, man's "capacity for feeling is in itself an
insatiable and bottomless abyss."5 If man is to function without "fric-
tion," "the passions must first be limited .... But since the individual has
no way of limiling them, this must be done by some force exterior to
him." Durkheim viewed the collective order as the external regulating
force which defined and ordered the goals to which men should orient
their behavior. If the collective order is disrupted or disturbed, howev-
er, men's aspirations may then rise, exceeding all possibilities of fulfill-
ment. Under these condition, "de-regulation or anomy" ensues: "At the
very moment when traditional rules have lost their authority, the richer
prize offered these appetites stimulates them and makes them more ex-
igent and impatient of control. The state of de-regulation or anomy is
thus further heightened by passions being less disciplined precisely
when they need more disciplining." Finally, pressures to\vard deviant
behavior were said to develop when man's aspirations no longer
1Tl:lrrhorl ~ht:\ nno:;:o:;:jhilitipo:;: "f flllfillnwnl-
176 Anomie
Durkheim therefore turned to the question of when the regulatory
functions of the collective order break down. Several such states where
identified, including sudden depression, sudden prosperity, and rapid
technological change. His object was to show how, under these condi-
tions, men are led to aspire to goals extremely difficult if not impossible
to attain. As Durkheim saw it, sudden depression results in deviant be-
havior because "something like a declassification occurs which sud-
denly casts certain individuals into a lower state than their previous
one. Then they must reduce their requirements, restrain their needs,
lealTI greater self-control.. .. But society cannot adjust them instanta-
neously to this new life and teach them to practice the increased self-re-
pression to which they are unaccustomed. So they are not adjusted to the
condition forced on them, and its very prospect is intolerable; hence the
suffering which detaches them from a reduced existence even before
they have made trial of it." Prosperity, according to Durkheim, could
have much the same effect as depression, particularly if upward changes
in economic conditions are abrupt. The very abruptness of these changes
presumably heightens aspirations beyond possibility of fulfiIiment, and
this too puts a strain on the regulatory apparatus of the society.
According to Durkheim, "the sphere of trade and industry .. .is ac-
tually in a chronic state [of anomie]." Rapid teclmological developments
and the existence of vast, unexploited markets excite the imagination
with the seemingly limitless possibilities for the accumulation of wealth.
As Durkheim said of the producer of goods, "now that he may assume
to have almost the entire world as his customer, how could passions ac-
cept their former confinement in the face of such limitless prospects?"
Continuing, Durkheim states that "such is the source of excitement pre-
dominating in this part of society.... Here the state of crisis and anomie
[are] constant and, so to speak, normal. From top to bottom of the ladder,
greed is aroused without knowing where to find ultimate foothold.
Nothing can calm it, since its goal is far beyond all it can attain."
In developing the theory, Durkheim characterized goals in the in-
dustrial society, and specified the way in which tmlimited aspirations are
induced. He spoke of "dispositions ... so inbred that society has grown to
accept them and is accustomed to think them normal," and he portrayed
these "inbred dispositions": "It is everlastingly repeated that it is man's
nature to be eternally dissatisfied, constantly to advance, without relief
or rest, toward an indefinite goal, The longing for infinity is daily rep-
resented as a mark of moral distinction .... " And it was precisely these
pressures to strive for "infinite" or "receding" goals, in Durkheim's
view, that generate a breakdown in regulatory norms, for "when there is
no other aim but to outstrip constantly the point arrived at, how painful
to be thrown back!"
13. Richard A. Cloward 177
PHASE H: DISJUNCTION BETWEEN CULTURA.L GOALS AND
SOCIALLY STRUCTURED OPPORTUNITY
Durldleim's description of the emergence of "ovenveerung ambition"
and the subsequent breakdown of regulatory norms constitutes one of
the links between his work and the later development of the theory by
Robert K. Merton. In his classic essay, "Social Structure and Anomie,"
Merton suggests that goals and norms may vary independently of each
other, and that this sometimes leads to malintegrated states. In his view,
hIlo polar types of disjunction may occur; "There may develop a very
heavy. at times a virtually exclusive, stress upon the value of particular
goals, involving comparatively little concern with tl:e insti:utionally
prescribed means of striving toward these goals .... This constitutes one
type of malintegrated culture."D On the other hand, "A second polar
type is found where activities originally conceived as instrumental are
transmuted into self-contained practices, lacking further objectives ....
Sheer confonnity becomes a central value." Merton notes that "behveen
these extreme types are societies which maintain a rough balance be-
tween emphases upon cultural goals and institutionalized practices, ~nd
these constitute the integrated and relatively stable, though changmg
societies. "
Having identified patterns of disjunction between goals and norms,
Merton is enabled to define anomie more precisely: "Anomie [may be]
conceived as a breakdown in the cultural structure, occurring parlicu-
larly when there is an acute disjunction between cultural norms and
goals and the socially structured capacities of members of the group to
act in accord with them."
Of the two kinds of malintegrated societies, Merton is primarily in~
terested in the one in which "tllere is an exceptionally strong emphasis
upon specific goals without a corresponding emphasis upon institu-
tional procedures." He states that attentuation between goals and norms,
leading to anomie or "nonnlessness," comes about because men in such
societies internalize an emphasis on common success-goals under con~
ditions of varying access to them. TIle essence of this hypothesis is cap~
tured in the following excerpt: "It is only when a system of cultural
values extols, virtually above all else, certain C0711111011 success-goals for
the population at larg-e while the social structure rigorously restricts or
completely closes access to approved modes of reaching these goals for a
considerable pnrt of the same populntioJl, that deviant behavior ensues on a
large scale." The focus, in short, is on the way in which the soc~al stm~­
ture puts a strain upon the cultural structure. Here one may pomt to dI-
verse structural differentials in access to culturally approved goals by
J",,,itiITl;lt,,, ITlP::m<;! for PY;.1Tlln!p rliffprpntiRk nf RCTP. qPX p!-hni .... qtf1hJs.
 178 Anomie
and social class. Pressures for anomie or normlessness vary from one
social position to another, depending on the nature of these differentials.
fn summary, Merton extends the theory of anomie in two principal
ways. He explicitly identifies types of anomic of rnalintegrated societies
by focussing upon the relationship between cultural goals and norms.
And, by directing attention to patterned differentials in the access to
success-goals by legitimate means, he shows how the social structure
exerts a strain upon the cultural structure, leading in turn to anomie Or
nonnlessness.
PHASE Ill: THE CONCEPT OF ILLEGITIMATE MEANS
Once :he processes generating differentials in pressures are identified,
there IS then the question of how these pressures are resolved, or how
men respond to them. In this connection, Merton enumerates five basic
categori~s of behavior or role adaptations which are likely to emerge:
c0r:t0rml~, innovation, ritualism, retreatism, and rebellion. These adap-
tations differ depending on the individual's acceptance or rejection of
cultural goals, and depending on his adherence to or violation of insti-
tu~onal n~rm.s. Furthermore, Merton sees the distribution of these adap-
tatlOns prmClpally as the consequence of two variables: the relative
extent ~f pressure, and values, particularly "internalized prohibitions,"
gove1nmg the use of various illegitimate means.
It is a familiar sociological idea that values serve to order the choic-
es of ~:viant (as well as conforming) adaptations which develop under
condItions of stress. Comparative studies of eth~c groups, for exam-
ple, have shown that some tend to engage in distinctive forms of de-
viance; thus Jews exhibit low rates of alcoholism and alcoholic
pS,z'chos.es.7 Various investigators have suggested that the emphasis on
rationality, fear of expressing aggression, and other alleged components
of the "Jewish" value system constrain modes of deviance which in-
volve "loss of control" over behavior.B In contrast, the Irish show a much
higher rate of alcoholic deviance because, it has been argued, their cul-
tural emphasis on masculinity encourages the excessive use of alcohol
under conditions of strain. 9
.M~rton su~gests that differing rates of ritualistic and innovating be-
havlOr m the nuddle and lower classes result from differential emphases
in socialization. The "rule-oriented" accent in middle-class socialization
presumably disposes persons to handle stress by engaging in ritualistic
rat~er t~an inn~vating beh~vior. The lower-class person, contrastingly,
havmg mternalized less strmgent norms, can violate conventions with
~ess guilt a~d. ~nxiety.lO V~lues, in o.ther words, exercise a canalizing
mf1~e~:e, ~~lrn:g the chOIce of deVIant adaptations for persons vari-
13. Richard A. Cloward 179
Apart from both socially patterned pressures, which give rise to de-
viance, and from values, which determine choices of adaptations, a fur-
ther variable should be taken into account: namely, differentials ill
availabilitl) of illegitimate means. For example, the notion that innovating
behavior may result from unfulfilled aspirations and imperfect social-
ization with respect to conventional norms implies that illegitimate
meanS are freely available-as if the individual, having decided that
"you can't make it legitimately," then simply turns to illegitimate means
which are readily at hand whatever his pOSItion ill the SOCIal structure.
However, these means may not be available. As noted above, the anomie
theory assumes that conventional means are differentially distributed,
that some individuals, because of their social position, enjoy certain ad-
vantages which are denied to others. Note, for example, variations in
the degree to which members of various classes are fully exposed to
and thus acquire the values, education, and skills will facilitate upward
mobility. It should not be startling, therefore, to find similar variations in
the availability of illegitimate means.
Several sociologists have alluded to such variations vvithout explic-
itly incorporating this variable in a theory of deviant behavior. Sut~1er­
land, for example, writes that "an inclination to steal is not a sufficIent
explanation of the genesiS of the professional thief."ll Moreover, "the
person must be appreciated by the professional.thieves. He n:ust b~ ~p­
praised as having an adequate equipment of WIts, front, tallang-ability,
honesty, reliability, nerve and determination." In short, "a person can
be a professional thief only if he is recognized and received as such by
other professional thieves." But recognition is not freely accorded: "Se-
lection and tutelage are the two necessary elements in the process of ac-
quiring recognition as a profeSSional thief.... A person cannot acquire
recognition as a professional thief until he has had tutelage in profes-
sional theft, and tHtelage is given only to afew persons selected from tlze total
population." Furthermore, the aspirant is judged by high standards of
perfonnance, for only "a very small percentage of those who start on
this process ever reach the stage of professional theft." The burden of
these remarks-dealing with the processes of selection, induction, and
assumption of full status in the criminal group-is that motivations or
pressures toward deviance do not fully account for deviant behavior.
The "self-made" thief-lacking knowledge of the ways of securing im-
munity from prosecution and similar techniques of defense-"wou~d
quickly land in prison." Sutherland is in effect pointing to differentials ID
access to the role of profeSSional thief. Although the cntena of selection
are not altogether clear from his analysis, definite evaluative standards
do appear to exist; depending on their content, certain categories of
innhrinll;:il.:: lAln111rl hp nl:'lrpn :'It :l rii':::'I,hr:lnbO"P :lnri nthprc.: 1~mll1r1 hp
 180 Anomie 13. Richard A, Cloward 181

The availability of illegitimate means, then, is controlled by various " ti" J " opportunity as a concept to be systematically incorpo-
differen a S i n , ,,'_
criteria in the same manner that has long been ascribed to conventional rated in a theory of deviant behavlOr" Instead," he held that opporturu
means. Both systems of opportunity are (1) limited, rather than infi- " is a necessary but not sufficient explanation of th.e. COmmlSSlOTI of
nitely available, and (2) differentially available depending on the loca- ty " I t "srn"ce some persons who have opportunities to embezzle,
cri.In1Ila aC s, .
tion of persons in the social structure. "t "ated engage in illicit heterosexual mtercourse or to COID-
become m aXle , . . I
When we employ the term "means;' whether legitimate or illegiti- "th
nutD ercnme
" s do not do so . He also noted that
If
. the. differentia
, 'a5SO- r'
mate, at least two things are implied: first, that there are appropriate " ti" n theory did not constitute a full explanation of crmunal ach\ Ity,
learning environments for the acquisition of the values and skills asso-
oa 0 .,.'
f notwithstanding differential association, It 15 aXlOma c a , -
. ti' th t per

ciated with the performance of a particular role; and second, that the
individual has opportunities to discharge the role once he has been pre-
pared. The term subsumes, therefore, both Jeaming stmcttlres and oppor-
tunity structures.
A case in point is recruitment and preparation for careers in the
rackets. There are fertile criminal learning environments for the young in
neighborhoods where the rackets flourish as stable, indigenous institu-
tions. Because these environments afford integration of offenders of dif-
ferent ages, the young are exposed to "differential associations" which
facilitate the acquisition of criminal values and skills. Yet preparation
for the role may not insure that the individual will ever discharge it.
For one thing, more youngsters may' be recruited into these patterns of
differential association than can possibly be absorbed, following their
"training," by the adult criminal structure. There may be a surplus of
contenders for these elite positions, leading in turn to the necessity for
criteria and mechanisms of selection. Hence a certain proportion of those
who aspire may not be permitted to engage in the behavior for which
they have been prepared.
This illustration is similar in every respect, save for the route fol-
lowed, to the case of those who seek careers in the sphere of legitimate
business. Here, again, is the initial problem of securing access to appro-
priate learning environments, such as colleges and postgraduate schools
of business. Having acquired the values and skills needed for a busi-
ness career, graduates then face the problem of whether or not they can
successfully discharge the roles for which they have been prepared. For-
mal training itself is not sufficient for occupational success, for many
forces intervene to determine who shall succeed and fail in the compet-
itive world of business and industry-as throughout the entire conven-
tional occupational structure.
This distinction between learning structures and opportunity struc-
tures was suggested some years ago by Sutherland. In 1944, he circu-
lated an unpublished paper which briefly discusses the proposition that
"criminal behavior is partially a function of opportunities to commit
specific classes or crimes, such as embezzlement, bank burglary, or illicit
heterosexual intprcnl1ro::p "12 Hp rHrl nn~ nnHTom:l1" blro f.h.-.. ......"'hl"...... ~,
11T"l
or,s who commit a specific crime must have the opportunity to COmmIt
~~~t crime." He therefore concluded that J~while opportunity may be
artially a function of association with crimrnal ~attern~ and. of the spe-
p li eec d t hniques thus acquired, it is /lot detemttlled ellttl'cly 1I1 that IIlml-
oaz . '15 not t1le su ff""t
dy differential association lCIen cause
ner, and consequen u . ..
of criminal behavior." (emphasis not In ongmal) .
In Sutherland's statements, two meanings are attrIbuted to the term
"opportunity." As suggested above, it may be useful to separate these ,for
analytical purposes. In the first sense, Sut~erland appears to be ~aJ?llg
that opportunity consists in part of.learrun? s.tructures. ~e.pr.mC1pa~
CO mponents of his theory of differential aSSOCiation are that cr~mmal be
. . I d " and furthermore that "criminal behavior IS leanled
h aVlOr IS eame " , . . "B 1
in interaction with other persons in a process of :ommumc~hon, u~ le
also uses the term to describe situations conduclve to carrymg out cnm-
inal roles. Thus, for Sutherland, the commission of a crm:mal aC,t would
e existence of tvvo conditions: dlfferential asso-
seem t 0 d epend upon th . . d _
ciations favoring the acquiSition of crimmal valu~s. and skllls, an con
ditions encouraging participation in criminal acti:lty.. .
This distinction heightens the importance of Identifying and que.s-
ti nin the common assumption that illegitimate means are freely avml-
a~le. ~e can noW ask (1) whether there are s?cially structured
differentials in access to illegitimate learning envHonme~ts, ~~d (2)
whether there are differentials limiting the fulfilIment of illeg~tlm~te
roles, If differentials exist and can be identified, w~ m~y then mqUlre
about their consequences for the behavi?r of pe~sons m different parts o~
the social structure. Before pursuing thIS qu.e~tion, how~ver, we turn t,
a fuller discussion of the theoretjcal tradItion estabhshed by Sha\\,
McKay, and Sutherland"
DIFFERENTIALS IN AVAILABILITY OF ILLEGITIMATE
MEANS: THE SUBCULTURE TRADITION
The concept of differentials in ava~l~bili~ of ill~~~~~!~ ~~:~~~~.~~
 182 Anomie
this tradition, attention is focused on the processes by which persons
are recruited into criminal learning environments and ultimately in-
ducted into criminal roles. The problems here are to account for the ac-
quisition of criminal roles and to describe the social organization of
criminal activities. When the theoretical propositions contained in this
tradition are reanalyzed, it becomes clear that one underlying conception
is that of variations in access to success-goals by illegitimate means. Fur-
thermore, this implicit concept may be shown to be one of the bases
upon which the tradition was constructed.
In their studies of the ecology of deviant behavior in the urban en-
vironment, Shaw and McKay found that delinquency and crime tended
to be confined to delimited areas and, furthermore, that such behavior
persisted despite demographic changes in these areas. Hence they came
to speak of "criminal tradition," of the "cultural transmission" of crim-
13
inal values. As a result of their observations of slum life, they con-
cluded that particular importance mllst be assigned to the integration of
difjermt age-levels of offenders. Thus:
Stealing in the neighborhood was a common practice among the chil-
dren and approved by the parents. Whenever the boys got together
they talked about robbing and made more plans for stealing. I hardly
lmew any boys Who did not go robbing. The little fellows went in for
petty stealing, breaking into freight cars, and stealing junk. The older
guys did big jobs like stick-up, burglary, and stealing autos. TIle little
fellows admired the "big shots" and longed for tlle day when they
could get into the big racket. Fellows who had "done time" were the
big shots and looked up to and gave the little fellow tips on how to
get by and pull off big jobs.H
In other words, access to criminal roles depends upon stable asso-
ciations with others from whom the necessary values and skills may be
learned. Shaw and McKay were describing deviant learning structures-
that is, alternative routes by which people seek access to the goals which
society holds to be worthwhile. They might also have pointed out that,
in areas where such learning structures are unavailable, it is probably
difficult for many individuals to secure access to stable criminal careers,
even though motivated to do SO.15
The concept of illegitimate means and the socially structured Con-
ditions of access to them were not explicitly recognized in the work of
Shaw and McKay because, probably, they were disposed to view slum
areas as "disorganized." Although they consistently referred to illegiti-
mate activities as being organized, they nevertheless often depicted
high-rate delinquency areas as disorganized because the values trans-
mitted were criminal rather than conventional. Hence their work in-
clu~es st~te]~lJ~_nts which we know perceive to be internally inconsistent,
13. Richard A. Cloward 183
Th· community situation Iin which Sidney was reared} \~as not only
' 1S . cl an cl thus m· effective
cl 150rgamze . as .
a unit of control, but It was
. char-
aclerized by a high rate ofjuve~~e delmque~cy and. adult crIme, no~
to mention the widespread pohtlcal corruptton whICh ha? long :x
isted in the area. Various forms of stealing and many orgaruzed delm-
quent and criminal gangs were prevalent in the area. These groups
exercised a powerful influence and tended to created a. communIty
spjrit which not only tolerated but actually fostered delmquent and
criminal practices.
Sutherland was among the first to perceive that the conc~pt of sO:ial
disorganization tended to obscure the stable patterns of mteractIon
among carriers of criminal values. Like Shaw and McKay, he ha~ be~n
influenced by the observation that lower-class areas were orgaruze~ ill
terms of both conventional and criminal values, but he was also Im-
pressed that these alternative value systems were sUl?ported by pat-
terned systems of social relations. He expressly recog~l1zed th~t cr:me,
far from being a random, unorganized activity, was typICally a~ mtncate
and stable system of human arrangements. ~e therefore reJecte~, t~e
concept of "social disorganization" and substituted the concept of dif-
ferential group organiza tion."
The third concept, social disorganization, was ?o:rowe? f~om Shaw
and McKay. I had used it but had not been .sa~sfied WItlllt becalls~
the organization of the delinquent group, Wh1ch 15 often very com~lex,
is social disorganization only from an ethical or some otlle: partlcu-
laristic point of view. At tlle suggestion of Albe.rt~. Cohen: thIS con:ept
has been changed to differential gr.oup orgaruza~on: WhICh. orga~z~~
tion for criminal activities on one SIde and orgamzation agamst Crlll1I
nal activities on the otherP
H . g freed observation of the urban slum from convenlional eval-
Bm . hlh
uations Sutherland was able to focus more clearly on the way ill w . c.
its soci~l structure constitutes a "learning environment" for the acqUlsl-
tion of deviant values and skills. In the development. of .the ,~eory of
"differential association" and "differential group orgaruzation, h:: c~e
close to stating explicitly the concept of differentials in acce~s to llle?It-
imate means. But Sutherland was essentially interested In ie,armng
processes, and thus he did not ask how such access varies in different
parts 0 f the social structure'nor did he inquire about the consequences
. . . 18
for behavior of variations in the accessIbIlity of these means.
William F. Whyte, in his classic study of an urba~ sl~, ad:anc.e~
the empirical description of the structure and orgaruzation of IllegIti-
mate means a step beyond that of Sutherland. Like Sutherland, Whyte
rejected the earlier view of the slum as disorganized:
It is customary for the sociologist to study the slllI!1 district in tern::s of
 184 Anomie
13. Richard A Cloward 185

Cornerville has a complex and well-established organization of its

own .... r found that in every group there was a hierarchical structure of uch areas constitute the second polar type. ~ecause.of
social relations binding the individuals to one another. Where the break d~~n. ~ ch as "drastic change in the class, ethnic, or raCIal
group was fonnally organized into a political dub, this was immedi- disorgaruzmg Of:es su ul ti " Kobrin suggests that "the bearers of the
ately apparent, but for infonnal groups it Was no less true. 19 characteristics of Its!e°:ndait~:alue system are without the customary
Whyte's contribution to our understanding of the organization of il- conventJonal cul~" and therefore in effect partially demobIlized
legitimate means in the slum consists primarily in showing that indi- institutIOnal mac me-sr . n of their value system." At the same time,
with reference to the diffuslO . . licit" since this type of area is
viduals who participate in stable illicit enterprise do not constitute a . . I" lue system remams lll1p . d
separate or isolated segment of the community. Rather, these persons the cnmma va.. b the absence of systematic and organIZe
are closely integrated with the occupants of conventional roles. In de- "characterized pnnclpally f Yh 1 d pite the fact that many adults in
ti "ty m vlOlation 0 t e aw, es . .
Scribing the relationship between racketeers and politicians, for example, adult ac VI OITlffilt • 1a tJ" ons. " SI"nee both value systems remam lll1-
• VIO

he notes that "the rackets and political organizations extend from the these areas c ... .ve inte ation are precluded.
bottom to the top of Comerville society, mesh with one another, and in- plicit, the possibilities for effe~ti tio ~ may be seen if we ask how ac-
tegrate a large part of the life of the district. They provide a general The importance of these 0 ~erva .thnthe relative integration of con-
. .. f ill al means varIes Wl I"
framework for the understanding of the actions of both 'little guys' and cesslblhty
" 1 0 d eg ·iminal va1ues from 0 ne type of area to another. In t us
'big shots',"20 Whyte's view of the slum differs somewhat from that Con- ventiona an C l . . that the "integrated" area apparently con-
veyed by the term "differential group organization." He does not em- connection, K~b:m pOInts
stitutes a "trammg groun dO~~or the acquisition of criminal values and
phasize the idea that the slum is composed of two different systems, skills"
conventional and deviant, but rather the way in which the occupants of
. . . . in the adult society of the com-
these various roles are integrated in a single, stable structure which or- The stable position. of ilh~ ent~rp~~elinquent conduct on the part of
ganizes and patterns the life of the community. munity is refl~cted ~ the ar~ ~ hi h rate areas is intrinsically dis-
The description of the organization of illegitimate means in slums is children. Whil~ ~elinquenc~ 1 Efi i~ programs for the education of
further developed by Solomon Kobrin in his article, "The Conflict of orderly in ~lat It IS. unrelale c~~rn:=mit ] boys may more or less rea~­
the young, ill tl~e [mtegrate~ lities for ;ersonal progress in local SOCl-
Values in Delinquency Areas. "2] Kobrin suggests that urban slum areas istically recogruze the po~e~. a In a general way, therefore,
vary in the degree to which the carriers of deviant and conventional ety through access to e mquencY·titutes a training ground for the
s
delinquent activity in these aret .c~ns e concealment of offense, eva-
values are integrated with one another. Hence he points the way to the
development of a "typology of delinquency areas based on the varia- acquisition of. skill in the u~e~d~een~~se of immunity from pun-
tions in the relationship between these two systems," depicting the sion of detection and arres , I ~ these respects are frequently
islunent. Those who c~mf t~ ex~e ~e rackets who are confronted, as
"polar types" on such a continuum. The first type resembles the inte- noted and valued by ~d t ea er~ ill enterprises, with problems of
grated areas described in preceding paragraphs. Here, claims Kobrin, are the leaders of all mcome-pro u dng
the recruitment of competent personnel.
there is not merely structural integration between carriers of the two
value systems, but reciprocal participation by each in the value system . "unintegrated area," Kobrin
of the other. Thus: With respect to the contrastmg °hrch 1 mm"g structures and op-
. f th extent to W 1 ea
makes no mentIon 0 e ail bl Yet his portrayal of such
.. f iminal careers are av a e. . . 1
portunities ~r cr. h
Leaders of [illegal] enterprises freguently maintain membership in
such conventional institutions of their local communities as churches, f cuIation of either conventional or cnrnma
fraternal and mutual benefit societies and political parties .... Within areas as lackmg m tear I . t learning structures-principally
this framework the influence of each of the tvvo value systems is reci- values suggests that the appr~~~: e t age levels-are not available.
procal, the leaders of illegal enterprise participating in the primary ori- the integration. of off~n~ers 0 1 te~~~ative activity as "unorganized"
entation of the conventional elements in the population, and the latter, Furthermore, his ~epICtion of ad~ty structure is severely limited. Even
through their partidpation in a local power structure sustained in large suggests that the illegal opporturu t aration for criminal roles,
if youngsters were able to secure ~~:(~: ~~:tJ structure for such neigh-
part by illicit activity, partidpating perforce in the alternate, criminal
value system.
the problem w~uld appear to b:uruties for stable, criminal careers. For
Kobrin also notes that in some urban slums there is a tendency for borhoods proVIdes few oppor f Whyte and others before him-
the relationshios hp/-wppn ""::IrriorC' .... {: ...l~.,,:~_J. _ ••.1 Kobrin's analysis-as well a.s th?se 0 . . ., . . _

186 Anomie
in lower-class areas only when stable patterns of accommodation and in-
tegration arise between the carriers of conventional and deviant values.
Where these values remain unorganized and implicit, or where their
carriers are in open conflict. opportunities for stable criminal role per-
formance are more Of less limited. 22
Other factors may be cited which affect access to criminal roles. For
example, there is a good deal of anecdotal evidence which reveals that
access to the upper echelons of organized racketeering is controlled, at
lease in part, by ethnicity. Some ethnic groups are found disproportion-
ately in the upper ranks and others disproportionately in the lower.
From an historical perspective, as Bell has sho\Vll, this realm has been
successively dominated by Irish, East-European Jews, and more recent-
ly, by Italians.23 Various other ethic groups have been virtually excluded
or at least relegated to lower-echelon positions. Despite the fact that
many rackets (especially "policy") have flourished in predominantly
Negro neighborhoods, there have been but one or two Negroes who
have been known to rise to the top in syndicated crime. As in the con-
ventional world, Negroes are relegated to the more menial tasks. More-
over, access to elite positions in the rackets may be governed in part by
kinship criteria, for various accounts of the blood relations among top
racketeers indicate that nepotism is the general rule. 24 Is has also been
noted that kinship criteria sometimes govern access to stable criminal
roles, as in the case of the pick pocket.25 And there are, of course, deep-
rooted sex differentials in access to illegal means. Although women are
often employed in criminal vocations-for example, thievery; confidence
games, and extortion-and must be employed in others-such as pros-
titution-nevertheless females are excluded from many criminal activi-
ties. 26
Of the various criteria governing access to illegitimate means, class
differentials may be among the most important. The differentials noted
in the preceding paragraph-age, sex, ethnicity, kinship, and the like-
all pertain to criminal activity historically associated with the lower
class. Most middle- or upper-class persons-even when interested in
following "lower-class" criminal careers-would no doubt have diffi-
culty in fulfilling this ambition because of inappropriate preparation.
The prerequisite attitudes and skills are more easily acquired if the in-
dividual is a member of the lower class; most middle- and upper-class
persons could not easily unlearn their own class culture in order to learn
a new one. By the same token, access to many "white collar" criminal
roles is closed to lower-class persons. Some occupations afford abun-
dant opportunities to engage in illegitimate activity; others offer virtu-
ally none, The businessman, for example, not only has at his disposal the
mf'<'Ins to nn.:::n hIlt <I" " .... r n O c4.,ri; ...." h ........ nh __ . _ 1__ :_.
13. Richard A. Cloward 187
ress ure to employ illegitimate means, if only to ~aintain a competi-
~ dvantage in the market place. But for those ill many other occu-
ave' a , I actlvl
wllite collar modes of crimma " ty are slmp
'lo y n t an
pa t IOns,
alternative.!?
SOME IMPLICATIONS OF A CONSOLIDATED
APPROACH TO DEVIANT BEHAVIOR
It is noW possible to consolidate the two sociologic~ ~aditions ~escribed
above. Our analysis makes it clear that these ~adI.tiOnS are OrIented to
different aspects of the same problem: differentials ~ access to oppo~tu­
nit)'. One tradition focusses on legitimate oppo~turuty, .the ~ther on ille-
gitimate. By incorporating the concept of dIfferentIals. m access to
illegitimate means, the theory of anomie may be extende~ to m~ude seem-
. I unrelated studies and theories of deviant behavlOr whiCh form a
;!Iof the literature of American criminology, In this final section, we try
to show how a consolidated approach mIght adv~ce e understandmg tI:
f b th rates and types of deviant conduct. The dIScussIon centers on the
~on~tions of access to both systems of means, legitimate and illegitimate.
THE DISTRIBUTION OF CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR
One problem which has plagued the cr~ologi~t ~s the absence of ad-
equate data on social differentials in crimmal actiVIty. Many ~ave held
that the highest crime rates are to be found in the lower SOCIal strata.
Other have suggested that rates in the middle and ~pper classes r.nay?e
much higher than is ordinarily thoug~t. The question of the SOCIal dIS-
tribution of crime remains problematic. .
In the absence of adequate data, the theorist has sometimes at.tacked
this problem by assessing the extent of pressures toward normative de-
partures in various parts of the social structure. For exao:ple, Merton
remarks that his "primary aim is to discover how some .sOCIaI structur~s
exert a definite pressure upon certain persons in th:;7~ocle~ to .enga?~ m
non-conforming rather than conformmg conduct. - Havm~ Identified
structural features which might be expected to generate deVlance, Mer-
ton suggests the presence of a correlation between "pressures toward
deviation" and "rate of deviance."
But whatever the differential rates of deviant behavior in t~: sev~ral
social strata, and we know from many sou~ces that the offiCial crune
statistics uniformly showing higher rates m the lov.:er strata ar~ fa~
from complete .or' reliable, it appears from 0111' analYSIS tllat t/~lrta~ell
•• ' , , ___ ... ,, __ 1 ______ _ t ___ t_~~-.~
_1

188 Anomie
structure, the culture makes incompatible demands. On the one hand
they are asked to orient their behavior toward the prospect of large
\~e~lth ... and ~n ~e ~ther, they are largely denie9 effective opportu-
ntties to do so mstltullonally. The cOIlseqlle1lCC of tillS structural incollsis-
tellcy is (l high ratc of devwnt behnvior. 29
Because of the paucity and unreliability of existing criminal statis-
tics, th.er~ is as yet no way of knowing whether or not Merton's hy-
pothesIs 15 correct. Until comparative studies of crime rates are available
the hypothesized correlation carmot be tested.
From a theoretical perspective, however, questions may be raised
about this ~orrelatio~. Would we expect, to raise the principal query,
the correlation to be fixed or to vary depending on the distribution of ac-
cess to illegitimate means? The three possibilities are (1) that access is
distributed uniformly throughout the class structure, (2) that access
va:ies inversely with class position, and (3) that access varies directly
WIth class position. Specification of these possibilities permits a more
precise statement of the conditions under which crime rates would be
expected to vary.
If access to illegitimate means is uniformly distributed throughout the
class structure, then the proposed correlation would probably hold-
higher rates of innovating behavior would be expected in the lower
class than elsewhere. Lower-dass persons apparently experience greater
p~~ssure toward deviance and are less restrained by internalized prohi-
bItions from employing illegitimate means. Assuming uniform access
to such means, it would therefore be reasonable to predict higher rates of
innovating behavior in the lower social strata.
If access to illegitimate means varies inversely with class position,
than the correlation would not only hold, but might even be strength-
ened. For pressures toward deviance, including socialization that does
not altogether discourage the use of illegitimate means, would coincide
with the availability of such means.
Finally, if access varies directly with class position, comparative rates
of illegitimate activity become difficult to forecast. The higher the class
position, the less the pressure to employ illegitimate means; further-
rno~e~ internalized prohibitions are apparently more effective in higher
posItIOns. If, at the same time, opportunities to use illegitimate meth-
ods are more abundant, then these factors would be in opposition. Until
the precise effects of these several variables can be more adequately
measured, rates cannot be safely forecast.
The concept of differentials in availability of illegitimate means may
also he~p .to clarify questions about varying crime rates among ethnic,
age, religlOus, and sex groups, and other social divisions. TIus concept,
thpn ('::In hp c:uc::t",,,,:>f..jl"',,,lh, ............. l .... ~T ...t : ...
....
13. Richard A. Cloward 189
standing of the distribution of illegitimate behavior in the social struc-
ture.
MODES Of ADAPTATION: THE CASE OF REillEATISM
B taking into account the conditions of access of legitimate a11d ille~it­
i~ate means, we can further specify the circumstan~es under which
various modes of deviant behavior arise. This may be Illustrated by the
case of retreatism. 3o .
As defined by Merton, retreatist adaptations include such categones
of behavior as alcoholism, drug addition, and psychotic withdrawal.
These adaptations entail "escape" from the frustrations of unfulfilled
aspirations by withdrawal from conventional social relationships. The
processes leading to retreatis~ are de.scribed by Merton as folIo,":::
"[Retreatism] arises from continued failure to ne.ar t~~ goal by legIti-
mate measures and from an inability to use the IllegItimate route be-
cause of internalized prohibitions, this process occurrillg while the supreme
vallle of tlIe success-goal has /lot yet been renounced. The conflict is resolved
by abandoning both precipitating elements. The goal: a~d .mean.s. The
escape is complete, the conflict is eliminated and the mdlvldualls aso-
cialized."31
In this view, a crucial element encouraging retreatism is internal-
ized constraint concerning the use of illegitimate means. But this ele-
ment need not be present. Merton apparently assumed tl:at suc.h
prohibitions are essential because, in the~r abser:ce, the 10?IC of hIS
scheme would compel him to predict that mnovating beh~vlOr would
result. But the assumption that the individual uninhibited 111 the use of
illegitimate means becomes an innovator presupposes that succe~sful
innovation is only a matter of motivation. Once the concep~ of differ-
entials in access to illegitimate means is introduced, however, It becomes
clear that retreatism is possible even in the absence of internalized pr~­
hibitions. For we may now ask how individuals respond when they faIl
in the use of both legitimate and illegitimate means. If illegitimate means
are unavailable, if efforts at innovation fail, then retreatist adaptations
may still be the consequence, and the "escape" mechani~ms chosen by
the defeated individual may perhaps be all the more deVIant because of
his "double failure."
This does not mean that retreatist adaptations cannot arise precise-
ly as Merton suggests: namely, that the conversion from conformity to
retreatism takes place in one step, without intervening adapt~tions. B~t
this is only one route to retreatism. The conversion may at tunes ent~Il
intervening stages and intervening adaptations, particularly of an m-
_. .,.".". . . ( _ •• L1 __ ( __ "'J.1__ 1. ___ "'~:~
1-t...~ _ll_...J. 1._ L .••• 1. ,
 190 Anomie
categories of individuals cited as retreatists-for example, hobos-often
show extensive histories of arrests and convictions for various illegal
acts. It also helps to explain retreatist adaptations among individuals
who have not necessarily internalized strong restraints on the use of il-
legitimate means. In short, retreatist adaptations may arise with con-
siderable frequency among those who are failures in both worlds,
conventional and illegitimate alike. 32
Future research on retreatist behavior might well examine the in-
terval betw-een conformity and retreatism. To what extent does the in-
dividual entertain the possibility of resorting to illegitimate means, and
to what extent does he actually seek to mobilize such means? If the in-
dividual turns to innovating devices, the question of whether or not he
becomes a retreatist may then depend upon the relative accessibility of
illegitimate means. For although the frustrated conformist seeks a solu-
tion to status discontent by adopting such methods, there is the further
problem of whether or not he possesses appropriate skills and has op-
portunities for their use. We suggest therefore that data be gathered on
preliminary responses to status discontent-and on the individual's per-
ceptions of the efficacy of employing illegitimate means, the content of
his skills, and the objective situation of illegitimate opportunity available
to him.
Respecification of the processes leading to retreatism may also help
to resolve difficulties entailed in ascertaining rates of retreatism in dif-
ferent parts of the social structure. Although Merton does not indicate
explicitly where this adaptation might be expected to arise, he specifies
some of the social conditions which encourage high rates of retreatism.
Thus the latter is apt to mark the behavior of downwardly mobile per-
sons, who experience a sudden breakdo'Wll in establishing social rela-
tions, and such individuals as the retired, who have lost major social
roles.33
The long-standing difficulties in forecasting differential rates of re-
treatism may perhaps be attributed to the assumption that retreatists
have fully internalized values prohibiting the use of illegitimate means.
That this prohibition especially characterizes socialization in the middle
and upper classes probably calls for the prediction that retreatism occurs
primarily in those classes-and that the hobohemias, "drug cultures,"
and the ranks of the alcoholics are populated primarily by individuals
from the upper reaches of society. It would appear from various ac-
counts of hobohemia and skid row, however, that many of these per-
sons are the products of slum life, and, furthermore, that their behavior
is not necessarily controlled by values which preclude resort to illegiti-
mate means, But once it is recognized that retreatism may arise in re-
cn..... ncol-nl;.....,,:~..,...;~_n __ L-LI----~. r ., •. --- - ..
13. Richard A Cloward 191
this adaptation is lessened, if not resolved. Thus retreatist behavior may
vary with the particular process by which it is generated. The process
described by Merton may be somewhat more characteristic of higher
positions in the social structure where rule-oriented socialization is typ-
ical, while in the lower strata retreatism may tend more often to be the
consequence of unsuccessful attempts at innovation.
SUMMARY
This paper attempts to identify and to define the concept of differential
opportunity structures. It has been suggested that this concept helps to
extend the developing theory of social structure and anomie. Further-
more, by linking propositions regarding the accessibility of both legiti-
mate and illegitimate opportunity structures, a basis is provided for
consolidating various major traditions of sociological thought on non-
conformity. The concept of differential systems of opportunity and of
variations in access to them, it is hoped, will suggest new possibilities for
research on the relationship between social struchIre and deviant be-
havior.
NOTES
1. This paper is based on research conducted in a penal setting. For a more
detailed statement see Richard A. Cloward, Social COlltrol nod Al1omie: A
Study of Prison COIllI111lllity (to be published by The Free Press).
2. See especially Emile Durkheim, Suicide, translated by J. A Spaulding and
George Simpson, Glencoe, TIL: Free Press, 1951; and Robert K. Merton,
Social TlteonJ mId Social Structure, Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1957, Chapters
4 and 5.
3. See especially the following: Clifford R. Shaw, The Jack-Roller, Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1930; Clifford R. Shaw, The Natllral His-
tory of a Delinquent Career, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1931;
Clifford R. Shaw et al., DelinqllellC!.IArcas, Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1940; Clifford R. Shaw and Henry D. McKay, JlIvenile
DcliHqlletlcy alld Urban Areas, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
1942; Edwin H. Sutherland, editor, The ProfessioJlal Thief Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 1937; Edwin H. Sutherland, Prillciples of
Crimillology, 4th edition, Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1947; Edwin H.
Sutherland, White Collar Crime, New York: Dryden, 1949,
4. "Illegitimate means" are those proscribed by the mores. The concept
therefore includes "illegal means" as a special case but is not cotenni-
nous with illegal behavior, which refers only to the violation of legal
 192 Anomie
behavior which entail violation of the law and there use the more re-
stricted term, "illegal means." But the more general concept of illegiti-
mate means is needed to cover the wider gamut of deviant behavior and
to relate the theories under review here to the evolving theory of "legiti-
macy" in sociology.
5. All of the excerpts in this section are from Durkheim, op. cit., pp.
247-257.
6. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Merton, op. cif.,
pp. 131-194.
7. See, e.g., Seldon D. Bacon, "Sodal Settings Conducive to A1coholism-A
Sociological Approach to a Medical Problem," foun/nl of the American
Medical Associntio1l,16 (May, 1957), pp. 177-181; Robert F. Bales, "Cultur-
al Differences in Rates of Alcoholism," Quarterly Jounlal of Sludies 011 Al-
callO', 16 (March, 1946), pp. 480-499; Jerome H. Skohtick, "A Study of the
Relation of Etlmic Background to Arrests for Inebriety/' Quarterly JOllmal
ofStlldies 011 Alcoltol, 15 (December, 1954), pp. 451-474.
8. See Isidor T. Thomer, '~scetic Protestantism and Alcoholism," Psyclliatnj,
16 (May, 1953), pp. 167~176; and Nathan Glazer, "Why Jews Stay Sober,"
C0111J1t€l1tmy, 13 (February, 1952), pp. 181~186.
9. See Bales, op. cif.
10. Merton, op. cit., p. 151.
11. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Sutherland, The
Professional Thief, pp. 211-213.
12. For this excerpt and those which follow immediately, see Albert Cohen,
Alfred Lindesmith and Karl Schuessler, editors, The SlItherland Papers,
Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1956, pp. 31-35.
13. See especially Delinquency Areas, Chapter 16.
14. Shaw, The Jack-Roller, p. 54.
15. We are referring here, and throughout the paper, to stable criminal roles
to which persons may orient themselves on a career basis, as in the case
of racketeers, professional thieves and the like. The point is that access to
stable roles depends in the first instance upon the availability of learning
structures. As Frank Tannenbaum says, "it must be insisted on that un-
less there were older criminals in the neighborhood who provided a
moral judgment in favor of the delinquent and to whom the delinquents
could look for commendation, the careers of the younger ones could not
develop at all." Crime and the Community, New York Ginn, 1938, p. 60.
16. Shaw, The Natuml Histonj of a Delinquent Career, p. 229.
17. Cohen, Lindesmith and Schuessler, op. cit., p. 21.
18. It is interesting to note tllat the concept of differentials in access to legiti-
mate means did not attain explicit recognition in Sutherland's work, nor
in the work of many others in the "subculture" tradition. This attests to
the independent development of the hvo traditions being discussed.
Thus the ninth proposition in the differential association theory is stated
as follows:
(9) TllOU;;;lz criminal belwvior is nil expression of;;;ellernllleeds and val-
13. Richard A Cloward 193
l1al belwvior is nil expression of the same Heeds and vallles. Thieves gen-
erally steal in order to secure money, but likewise honest laborers
work in order to secure money. The attempts by many scholars to
explain criminal behavior by general drives and values, such as the
happiness principle, striving for social status, the money motive,
or frustration, have been and must continue to be futile since they
explain lawful behavior as completely as they explain criminal
behavior.
Of course, it is perfectly true that "striving for status," the "money mo-
tive" and similar modes of socially approved goal-oriented behavior do
not as such account for both deviant and conformist behavior. But if
goal-oriented behavior occurs under conditions of socially structured ob-
stacles to fulfillment by legitimate means, the resulting pressures might
then lead to deviance. In other words, Sutherland appears to assume that
the distribution of access to success-goals by legitimate means is uniform
rather than variable, irrespective of location in the social structure. See
his PriJlciple afCriminology, 4th edition, pp. 7-8.
19. Wllliam F. Whyte, Street Comer Societ1j (Original edition, 1943). Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1955, p. viii.
20. Ibid., p. xviii.
21. Amcricml Sociological Review, 16 (October, 1951), pp. 657-658, which in-
cludes the excerpts which follow immediately.
22. TIle excellent work by Albert K. Cohen has been omitted from this dis-
cussion because it is dealt \-vith in a second article, "Types of Delinquent
Subcultures," prepared jointly with Lloyd E. OhIin (mirneographed, De-
cember, 1958, New York School of Social Work, Columbia University). It
may be noted that although Cohen does not explicitly affirm continuity
with either the Durkheim-Merton or the Shaw-McKay-Sutherland tradi-
tions, we believe that he clearly belongs in the former. He does not deal
with what appears to be the essence of the Shaw-McKay-SutherIand tra-
dition, namely, the crucial social functions performed by the integration
of offenders of differing age-levels and the integration of adult carriers of
criminal and conventional values. Rather, he is concerned primarily with
the way in which discrepancies between status aspirations and possibili-
ties for achievement generate pressures for delinquent behavior. The lat-
ter notion is a central feature in the anomie tradition.
23. Daniel Bell, "Crime as an American Way of Life," The Alltioch Review
(Sununer, 1953), pp. 131-154.
24. For a discussion of kinship relationships among top racketeers, see Stan-
ley Frank, "The Rap Gangsters Fear Most," The Saturday Evenillg Post
(August 9, 1958), pp. 26 ff. This article is based on a review of the files of
the United States Immigration and Naturalization Service.
25. See David W. Maurer, Whiz Mob: A Correlatiol1 of the Technical Argot of
Pickpockets with Their Bellnvior Pattern, Publication of the American Di-
alect Society, No. 24, 1955.
26. For a discussion of racial, nationality, and sex differentials governing ac-
194 Anomie
27. Training in conventional, specialized occupational skills is often a pre-
requisite for the commission of white collar crimes, since the individual
must have these skills in hand before he can secure a position entailing
"trust" As Cressey says, "it may be observed that persons trained to
carry on the routine duties of a position of trust have at the same time
been trained in whatever skills are necessary for the violation of that po-
sition, and the technical skill necessary to trust violation is simply the
technical skill necessary to holding the position in the first place." (Don-
aId R. Cressey, Other People's MOllet), Glencoe, Ill: Free Press, 1953, pp.
81-82.} Thus skills required in certain crimes need not be learned in asso-
ciation with criminals; they can be acquired through conventionalleam-
ing.
28. Merton, op., cil., p. 132.
29. Ibid., pp. 141-145.
30. Retreatist behavior is but one of many types of deviant adaptations
which might be re~analyzed in terms of this consolidated theoretical ap-
proach. In subsequent papers, being prepared jOintly with Lloyd E.
Ohlin, other cases of deviant behavior-e.g., collective disturbances in
prisons and subculhtral adaptations among juvenile delinquents-will
be examined. In this connection, see footnote 22.
31. Merton, op. cil., pp. 153-154.
32. The processes of "double failure" being specified here may be of value in
reanalyzing the correlation between alcoholism and petty crime. Investi-
gation of the careers of petty criminals who are alcoholic may reveal that
after being actively oriented toward stable criminal careers they then lost
out in the competitive struggle. See, e.g., Invin Duetscher, "The Petty Of-
fender: A SOciological Alien," The Joumal ojCrimillalLnw, CrimilloioS1J and
Police Science, 44 Ganuary-February, 1954), pp. 592-595; Albert D. Ullman
et al., "Some Social Characteristics of Misdemeanants," The Journal Dj
Criminal Law, Crimill%S1J a11d Police Sciellce, 48 (May-June, 1957), pp.
44-53.
33. Merton, op. cit., pp. 188-189.
14. Albert K. Cohen 195
Analysis and Critique
14 The Sociology of the Deviant Act: Anomie Theory
and Beyond
ALBERT K. COHEN
My concern in this paper is to move toward a general theory of deviant
behavior. Taking "Social Structure and Anornie"l as a point of depar-
ture, I shall note some of the imperfections and gaps in the theory as
originally stated, how some of these have been rectified, some theoret-
ical openings for further exploration, and some problems of relating
anomie theory to other traditions in the sociology of deviance. It is not
important, for my purposes, how broadly or narrowly Merton himself
conceived the range of applicability of his anomie theory. VVhatever
the intention or vision of the author of a theory, it is the task of a disci-
pline to explore the implications of a theoretical insight, in all direc-
tions. Many of the points I shall make are, indeed, to be found in
Merton's work. In many instances, however, they either appear as
leads, suggestions, or obiter dicta, and are left undeveloped, or they ap-
pear in some other context and no effort is made systematically to link
them with anomie theory. 2
THE ANOMIE THEORY OF DEVIANT BEHAVIOR
Merton's theory has the reputation of being the pre-eminently sociolog-
ical theory of deviant behavior. Its concern is to account for the distrib-
ution of deviant behavior among the positions in a social system and
for differences in the distribution and rates of deviant behavior among
systems. It tries to account for these things as functions of system prop-
erties-i.e., the ways in which cultural goals and opportunities for real-
izing them within the limits of the institutional norms are distributed.
The emphasis, in short, is on certain aspects of the culture (goals and
norms) and of the social structure (opportunities, or access to means).
TIle theory is, then, radically sociological. And yet, as far as the formal
Reprinted with permission from Albert K. Cohen, "The Sociology of the Deviant Act:
Anomie Theory and Beyond," AIllf'ricll11 Sociologiclll Rf'view, vo]. 30 (February 1965), pp.
5-15.
This is a revised version of a paper read at the annu"l meeting of the American Soci-
 196 Anomie
~nd ex~licit structure of Merton's first formulation is concerned, it is,
illcertarn respects, atomistic and individualistic. Within the framework
of goals, norms, and opportunities, the process of deviance was Con-
ceptualized as though eadl individual-or better, role incumbent-were
in a box by himself. He has internalized goals and nonnative, regulato-
ry rules; he assesses the opportunity structure; he experiences strain;
and h: selects one or another mode of adaptation. The bearing of others'
expenence-their strains, their confonnity and deviance, their success
a.nd failure-an ego's strain and consequent adaptations is compara-
tively neglected.
~~nsi~er first the concept of strain itself. It is a function of the degree
of disJunc~on between goals and means, or of the sufficiency of means
to the a.tt~ent ~f goals. But how imperious must the goals be, how
W1c~r;am theIr a~amrnent, how incomplete their fulfillment, to generate
stram. The relation between goals as components of that abstraction,
culture, and the ~oncrete goals of concrete role incumbents, is by no
means dear and sunple. One thing that is clear is that the level of goal at-
tainment that will seem just and reasonable to concrete actors, and there-
fore the sufficiency of available means, will be relative to the attainments
of others who serve as reference objects. Level of aspiration is not a fixed
quantum, ~ak.en from the culture and swallowed whole, to lodge un-
changed WIthin our psyches. The sense of proportionality between effort
and reward is not determined by the objective returns of effort alone.
From the standpoint of the role sector whose rates of deviance are in
question, the mapping of reference group orientations, the availability to
others of access to means, and the actual distribution of rewards are as-
pects of the social structure important for the determination of strain. 3
Once we take explicit cognizance of these processes of comparison,
a number of ~ther problems unfold themselves. For example, others,
whom we define as legitimate objects of comparison, may be more suc-
cessful than we are by adhering to legitimate means. They not only do
better than we do, but they do so "fair and square." On the other hand,
th:y n:ay ~~ as well as we or even better by cutting corners, d1eating,
usmg illegltimate means. Do these two different situations have differ-
ent consequences for the sense of strain, for attitudes toward oneself,
for subsequent adaptations? In general, what strains does deviance on
the p~ of ~th.ers create for the virtuous? In the most obvious case ego is
the drr:ct .vIctim of alter's deviance. Or ego's interests may be adverse-
ly but mdirectly affected by the chicanery of a competitor-unfair trade
pra.ctic:s in business, unethical advertising in medicine, cheating in ex-
ammations when the instructor grades on a curve. But there is a less
obvious case, the one which, according to Ranulf,4 gives rise to disin-
, ___ • • ,_ 1 ,. ,. .' ~, ••• • ••
14. Albert K. Cohen 197
goals, and the eschewing of interdicted but tantalizing goals, the ad-
herence to normatively sanctioned means-these imply a certain self
restraint, effort, discipline, inhibition. What is the effect of the spectacle
of others who, through their activities do not manifestly damage Our
own interests, are morally undisciplined, who give themselves up to
idleness, self-indulgence, or forbidden vices? What effect does the
propinquity of the wicked have on the peace of mind of the virhlOus?
In several ways, the virtuous can make capital out of this situation,
can convert a situation with a potential for strain to a source of satis-
faction. One can become even more virtuous letting his reputation hinge
on his righteousness, building his self out of invidiolls comparison to the
morally weak. Since others' wickedness sets off the jewel of one's own
virtue, and one's claim to virtue is at the core of his public identity, one
may actually develop a stake in the existence of deviant others, and be
threatened should they pretend to moral excellence. In short, another's
virtue may become a source of strain! One may also join with others in
righteous puritanical wrath to mete out punishment to the deviants, not
50 much to stamp out their deviant behavior, as to reaffirm the central
importance of conformity as the basis for judging men and to reassure
himself and others of his attachment to goodness. One may even make
a virtue of tolerance and indulgence of others' moral deficiencies, there-
by implicitly calling attention to one's own special strength of character,
If the weakness of others is only human, then there is something more
than human about one's own strength. On the other hand, one might
join the profligate.
What I have said here is relevant to social control, but my concern at
present is not with social control but with some of the ways in which de-
viance of others may aggravate or lighten the burdens of conformity
and hence the strain that is so central to anomie theory.
The student of Merton will recognize that some of tl1ese points are
suggested or even developed at some length here and there in Merton's
own writing. Merton is, of course, one of the chief architects of refer-
ence group tl1eory, and in his chapter on "Continuities in the Theory of
Reference Groups and Social Structure," he has a section entitled "Non-
conformity as a Type of Reference Group Behavior," 5 There he recog-
nizes the problems that one actor's deviance creates for others, and he
explicitly calls attention to Ranulf's treatment of disinterested moral in-
dignation as a way of dealing with this problem. 6 In "Continuities in
the Theory of Social Structure and Anornie," he describes how the de-
viance of some increases the others' vulnerability to deviance? In short,
my characterization of the earliest version of "Social Structure and
Anornie" as "atomistic and individualistic" would be a gross misrepre-
contoh.-.n Hit ,.rOrO 0.,.,..,.,.1;0..-1 h ... ~ho h...,~.,.J ........."",,<' .... 1= ~,fo,..~nr>.'" T"...;;.; ................ rl", ..
198 Anomie
viance. He has not, however, developed the role of comparison process-
es in the determination of strain or considered it explicitly in the context
of anomie theory. And in general, Merton does not identify the com-
plexities and subtleties of the concept strain as a problem area in their
own right.
Finally. in connection with the concept strain, attention should be
called to Smelser's treatment of the subject in his Theory a/Collective Be-
lzavior.8 Although Smelser does not deal with tills as it bears on a theory
of deviance, it is important here for two reasons. First, it is, to my lmowl-
edge, the only attempt in the literature to generate a systematic classifi-
cation of types of strain, of which Merton's disjunction betv.reen goals
and means is only one. The second reason is Smelser's emphasis that to
account for collective behavior, one must start witlt strain, but one's the-
ory must also specify a hierarchy of constraints, each of which further
narrows the range of possible responses to strain, and the last of which
rules out all alternatives but collective behavior. If the "value-added"
method is sound for a theory of collective behavior, it may also be use-
ful for a theory of deviance, starting from the concept strain and con-
structed on the same model.
Now, given straill, what will a person do about it? In general, Mer-
ton's chief concern has been with the structural factors that account for
variations in strain. On the matter of choice of solution, as on other mat-
ters, he has some perceptive observations,9 but it has remained for oth-
ers to develop these systematically. In particular, m the original version
of his theory each person seems to work out his solution by himself, as
though it did not matter what other people were doing. Perhaps Merton
assumed such intervening variables as deviant role models, without
going into the mechanics of them. But it is one thing to assume that such
variables are operating; it is quite another to treat them explicitly in a
way that is integrated with the more general theory. Those who contin-
ue the anomie tradition, however-most notably Merton's student,
Cloward-have done much to fill this gap. Cloward, with Ohlin,lU has
accomplished this in large part by linking anomie theory mth another
and older theorelical tradition, associated with Sutherland, Shaw and
McKay, and Kobrin-the "cultural transmission" and "differential as-
sociation" tradition of the "Chicago school." Cloward and Ohlin also
link anomie theory to a more recent theoretical development, the general
theory of subrultures, and especially the aspect of the theory that is con-
cerned with the emergence and development of new subcultural
forms.u What these other theories have in common is an insistence that
deviant as well as nondeviant action is typically not conhived within the
solitary individual psyche, but is part of a collaborative social activity, in
14. Alberl K Cohen 199
which the things that oll,er people say and do give meaning, value, and
effect to one's own behavior.
The incorporation of this recognition into anomie theory is the prin-
cipal significance of Cloward's notion of illegitimate opportunity struc-
tures. These opportunity structures are going social concerns in the
individual's milieu, which provide opportunities to learn and to per-
form deviant actions and lend moral support to the deviant when he
breaks with conventional norms and goals.
This is the explicit link with the cultural transmission-differential as-
sociation tradition. The argument is carried a step farther with the recog-
nition that, even in the absence of an already established deviant culture
and social organization, a number of individuals with like problems
and in effective communication with one another may join together to
do what no one can do alone. They may provide one another with ref-
erence objects, collectively contrive a subculture to replace or neutralize
the conventional culture, and support and shield one another in their de-
viance. This is the explicit link to the newer theory of subcultures. 12
There is one more step in this direction that has not been so explic-
itly taken. Those who jom hands in deviant enterprises need not be peo-
ple with like problems, nor need their deviance be of the same sort.
Within the framework of anornie theory, we may think of these people as
individuals vvith quite variant problems or strains which led themselves
to a common solution, but a common solution in which each partici-
pates in different ways. I have in mind the brothel keeper and the
crooked policeman, the black marketeer and his customer, the desperate
student and the term paper merchant, the bookie and the wire services.
These do not necessarily constitute solidary collectivities, like delin-
quent gangs, but they are structures of action with a division of labor
through which each, by his deviance, serve the interests of the others.
Theirs is an "organic solidarity," in contrast to the "mechanical solidar-
ity" of Cloward and Ohlin's gangs. Some of Merton's own writing on
functionalism-for example, his discussion of the exchange of services
involved in political corruption-is extremely relevant here, but is not
explicitly integrated into his anomie theory.13
THE ASSUMPTION OF DISCONTINUITY
To say that anomie theory suffers from the assumption of discontinuity
is to imply that it treats the deviant act as though it were an abrupt
change of state, a leap from a state of strain or anomie to a state of de-
viance. Although this overstates the weakness in Merton's theory the
 200 Anomie
expression, "the assumption of discontinuity," does have the heUristi
value of dra:wing attention to an important difference in emphasis be~
twee~ an~IDle theory and other traditions in American socioloffi" and to
the direction of movement in anomie theory itself. Human action cl _
viant or otherwise, is something that typically develops and groW; ine
tentative, groping, advancing, backtracking, sounding-out process. Pe~
pIe taste and feel their way along. They begin an act and do not com_
plete it. They start doing one thing and end up by doing another. They
extncate themselves from progressive involvement or become further in-
volved to the point of commitment. These processes of progressive in-
volve~e.nt and disinvolvement are important enough to deserve explicit
recogrution and treatment in their own right. They are themselves sub-
ject to nor:native regulation and structural constraint in complex ways
about whIch we have much to learn. Until recently; however, the dom-
inant bias in .American sOciology has been toward formulating theory in
terms of var1ables that describe initial states, on the one hand, and out-
comes, on the other, rather than in terms of processes whereby acts and
complex structures of action are built, elaborated and transformed. No-
table exceptions are interaction process analysis,14 the brand of action
theory represented by Herbert Blumer,IS and the descriptions of de-
viance by. Talcot~ Parsons 16 and by Howard BeckerP Anomie theory
has taken mcreasmg cOgnizance of such processes. Cloward and Merton
both point out, for example, that behavior may move through "pat-
terned sequences of deviant roles" and from "one type of adaptation to
another."IS But this hardly does justice to the microsociology of the de-
viant act. It suggests a series of cliscontinuous leaps from one deviant
state to another almost as much as it does the kind of process I have in
mind.
RESPONSES TO DEVIANCE
Very closely related to the foregoing point is the conception of the de-
velop~ent of the act as a feedback, or, in more traditional language, in-
~erach~n process. The history of a deviant act is a history of an
mteraction p:ocess. The antecedents of the act are an unfolding sequence
of acts contrIbuted by a set of actors. A makes a move, possibly in a de-
viant direction; B responds; A responds to B's responses, etc. In the
course of this interaction, movement in a deviant direction may become
more explicit, elaborated, definitive-or it may not. Although the act
may b: socially as~ribed to only one of them, both ego and alter help to
shape It. The starting point of anomie theory was the question, "Given
the social stnlC'hJrp. or poo'<:; miiiPll lArh;)t will po-n nn?" Thp rnilioll UT"'''
14. Albert K Cohen 201
taken as more-or-Iess given, an independent variable whose value is
fixed, and ego's behavior as an adaptation, or perhaps a series of ad~p­
tations, to that milieu. Anornie theory has come increasingly to recogruze
the effects of deviance upon the very variables that determine deviance.
But if we are interested in a general theory of deviant behavior we must
explore much more systematically ways of conceptuali~ing the i~lterac­
tioll between deviance and milieu. 19 I suggest the followmg such lines of
exploration.
If ego's behavior can be conceptualized in terms of acceptance and
rejection of goals and means, the same can be done wit~ alter's re-
sponses. Responses to deviance can no ~ore ~e .left n.ormatlvely unreg-
ulated than deviance itself. Whose busmess It IS to mtervene, at what
point, and what he mayor may not do is de~ed by a normativel~ es-
tablished division of labor. In short, for any gIven role---parent, pnest,
psychiatrist, neighbor, policemen, judge-the norms prescribe, with
varying degrees of definiteness, what they are suppose~ ~o do and 1z~w
they are supposed to do it when other persons, in specifl~d roles, rrus-
behave. The culture prescribes goals and regulates the chOIce of means.
Members of ego's role set can stray from cultural prescriptions in all the
ways that ego can. They may overemphasize the goals and neglect the
normative restrictions, they may adhere ritualistically to the norma-
tively approved means and neglect the goals, and so forth. I h~ve spelled
out the five possibilities on alter's side more fully elsewhere.-o The the-
oretical value of applying Merton's modes of adaptation to responses to
deviant acts is not fully clear; yet it seems worthy of exploration for at
least two reasons.
First, one determinant of ego's response to alter's attempts at control,
and of the responses of third parties whom ego or alter might call to
their aid, is certainly the perceived legitimacy of alter's behavior.
Whether ego yields or resists, plays the part of the good loser or the
abused victim, takes his medicine or is driven to aggravated deviance,
depends in part on whether alter has the right to do what he does,
whether the response is proportional to the offense, and so on.
Normative rules also regulate the deviant's response to the inter-
vention of control agents. How the control agent responds to the de-
viant, after the first confrontation, depends on his perception of the
legitimacy of the deviant's response to him, and not only on the nature of
the original deviant act. For example, this perceived. legitima~ plays
an important part in police dispositions of cases commg to theIr atten-
tion.
This approach also directs attention to strain in alter's role, the ad-
equacy of his resources relative to the responsibilities wi~ .which.he is
rh"r~prl hv virtue of his role, and the illegitimate opporturuties available
 202 Anomie
TABLE 14.1 RESPONSES OF THE OPPORTUNITY STRUCTURE TO Eco's
DEVIANCE
LEGITIMATE ILLEGITIMATE
OI'rORTUNITrES OPPORTUNITIES
Open up n Il.
Close off III N
to him. A familiar example would be the normative restrictions on the
means police may consider effective to do the job with which they are
charged, and variations in the availability to them of various illegiti-
mate means to the same end.
The disjunction betvveen goals and means and the choice of adap-
tations depend on the opportunity structure. The opportunity structure
consists in or is the result of the actions of other people. These in turn are
in part reactions to ego's behavior and may undergo change in response
to that behavior. The development of ego's action can, therefore, be con-
ceptualized as a series of responses, on the part of ego, to a series of
changes in the opportunity structure resulting from ego's actions. More
specifically. alter's responses may open up, close off, or leave unaffected
legitimate opportunities for ego, and they may do the same to illegiti-
mate opportunities. The following simplified table [Table 14.1] reduces
the possibilities to four.
1. OPEN UP LEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
Spedal efforts may be made to find employment opportunities for delin-
quents and criminals. On an individual basis this has long been one of
the chief tasks of probation officers. On a mass basis it has become more
and more prominent in community-wide efforts to reduce delinquency
rates.
Black markets may sometimes be reduced by making more of the
product available in the legal market or by reducing the pressure on
legal supply through rationing.
Several years ago the Indiana University faculty had a high rate of
violation of campus parking regulations, in part because of the disjunc-
tion between the demand for parking spaces and the supply. The virtu-
ous left early for work and hunted wearily for legitimate parking spaces.
The contemnhWlls nnrkprl ;mvwhprp ;mrl .;:npprprl ::It t-ir1cpk nnt:> rp_
14. Albert K. Cohen 203
sponse to this situation was to create new parking lots and to expand old
ones. Since the new parking spaces were available to all, and not only to
the former violators, this provides a clear instance where the virtuous-
or perhaps the timid-as well as the deviants themselves are the bene-
ficiaries of deviance. 21
OPEN UP ILLEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
Alter, instead of fighting ego, may facilitate his deviance by joining him
in some sort of collusive illicit arrangement from which both profit. The
racketeer and the law enforcement officer, the convict and the guard,
the highway speeder and the traffic policeman, may arrive at an under-
standing to reduce the cost of deviance.
Alter, whether he be a discouraged parent, a law enforcement offi-
cial, or a dean of students, may simply give up efforts systematically to
enforce a rule and limit himself to sporadic, token gestures.
An important element in Ooward and Ohlin's theory of delinquent
subcultures is that those who run the criminal syndicates are ever alert
for promising employees, and that a certain number of those who
demonstrate proficiency in the more juvenile forms of crime will be
given jobs in the criminal organization.
Ill. CLOSING OFF LEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
The example that comes most readily to mind is what Tannenbaum calls
the "dramatization of evil."u A deviant act, if undetected or ignored,
might not be repeated. On the other hand, others might react to it by
publicly defining the actor as a delinquent, a fallen woman, a criminal.
The definitions ascribe to him a social role, change his public image,
and activate a set of appropriate responses. These responses may in-
clude exclusion from avenues of legitimate opportunity formerly open
to him, and thus enhance the relative attractiveness of the illegitimate.
IV. CLOSING OFF ILLEGITIMATE OPPORTUNITIES
This is what we usually think of first when we think about "social con-
trol." It includes increasing surveillance, locking the door, increasing
the certainty and severity of punishment, cutting off access to necessary
supplies, knocking out the fix. These measures mayor may not achieve
the intended effect. On the one hand, they make deviance more diffi-
cult. On the other hand, they may stimulate the deviant, or the deviant
coalition, to ingenuity in devising new means to circumvent the new
rp<::fTirtinn<::
204 Anomie
TIle table is a way of conceptualizing alter's actions. The same alter
might respond simultaneously in different ceUs of the table, as may dif-
ferent alters, and these responses might reinforce or counteract one an-
other. Responses might fall in different cells at different stages of the
interaction process. In any case, as soon as we conceive of the opportu-
nity structure as a dependent as well as an independent variable, this
way of thinking suggests itself as a logical extension of the anomie
schema.
Parsons' paradigm of social control is in his opinion applicable not
only to deviance, but also to therapy and rehabilitative processes in gen-
eral. According to this paradigm, the key elements in alter's behavior are
support, permissiveness, denial of reciprocity, and rewards, judiciously
balanced, and strategically timed and geared to the development of
ego's behavior.2..1 To exploit the possibilities of this and other paradigms
of control, one must define more precisely these categories of alter's be-
havior, develop relevant ways of coding ego's responses to alter's re-
sponses, and investigate both theoretically and empirically the structure
of extended interaction processes conceptualized in these terms.
Finally, the interaction process may be analyzed from the stand-
point of its consequences for stability or change in the normative struc-
ture itself. Every act of deviance can be thought of as a pressure on the
normative structure, a test of its limits, an exploration of its meaning, a
challenge to its validity. Responses to deviance may reaffillTI or shore up
the normative structure; they may be ritual dramatizations of the seri-
ousness with which the community takes violations of its norms. Or
deviance may prompt reexamination of the boundaries of the norma-
tively pelTIlissible, resulting in either explicit refolTIlulation of the rule or
implicit changes in its meaning, so that the deviant becomes redefined as
non deviant, or the nondeviant as deviant. Thus deviance may be re-
duced or increased by changes in the norms.24 These processes go on
without the household, courts of law, administrative agencies, and leg-
islative chambers, but also in the mass media, the streets, and the other
forums in which "public opinion" is shaped. Although these processes
may be punctuated by dramatic, definitive events, like the passage of a
new law or the promulgation of a new set of regulations on allowable in-
come tax deductions, the pressure of deviance on the normative struc-
ture and the responses of the normative structure to deviance constitute
continuing, uninterrupted, interaction processes. One goal of deviance
theory is to determine under what conditions feedback circuits promote
change and under what conditions they inhibit change in the nonna-
tive structure.
In this connection, one of Merton's most perceptive and fruitful dis-
tinctinns is thM hptwppn thp "nonconformist" Finn othpr tvnp.o:; nf np-
14. Albert K. Cohen 205
viant. 25 Whereas the criminal and others typically violate the norms in
pursuit of their own ends, but in no sense seek to chmzge those norms
(though such change might very well be an unanticipated consequence
of their cumulative deviance), the nonconformist's objective is precisely
to change the normative system itself. This distinction suggests, in turn,
the concept of the "test case" (which need not be limited to the context
of legal norms and the formal judicial system)-i.e., the act openly com-
mitted, with the intention of forcing a clarification or redefinition of the
norms. What we must not overlook, however, is that allY deviant act,
whatever its intention, may, in a sense, function as a test case.
DEVIANCE AND SOCIAL IDENTITY
There is another piece of unfinished business before anomie theory, and
that is to establish a more complete and successful union with role the-
ory and theory of the self. The starting point of Merton's theory is the
means-ends schema. His dramatis persOIzae are cultural goals, institu-
tional norms, and the situation of action, consisting of means and con-
ditions. The disjunction betvveen goals and means provides the motive
force behind action. Deviance is an effort to reduce this disjunction and
re-establish an equilibrium between goals and means. It issues from ten-
sion; it is an attempt to reduce tension. Roles figure in this theory as a 10-
cational grid. They are the positions in the social structure among which
goals, norms and means are distributed, where such disjunctions are
located and such adaptations carried out.
Another starting point for a theory of deviant behavior grows out of
the social theory of George Herbert Mead. This starting point is the actor
engaged in an ongoing process of finding, building, testing, validating,
and expressing a self. The self is linked to roles, but not primarily in a 10-
cational sense. Roles enter, in a very integral and dynamic way, into the
very structure of the self. They are part of the categorical system of a
society, the socially recognized and meaningful categories of persons.
They are the kinds of people it is possible to be in that society. TIle self is
constructed of these possibilities. One establishes a self by successfully
claiming membership in such categories. 26
To validate such a claim one must know the social meanings of
membership in such roles: the criteria by which they are assigned, the
qualities or behavior that function as signs of membership, the charac-
teristics that measure adequacy in the roles. These meanings must be
learned. To some degree, this learning may be accomplished before one
has "identified or even toyed with the roles. Such learning Merton has
",.,.11",.-1 "' ... l-i,...;..... ~~,.. .... r C',",,,.j.., l.j..,.~l-i .... n 1'.... .:on ...... '" rl",,,.r£lO h,..,,,..,,,..,,.. a ,..n.,~;nl1O'"
206 Anomie
even after one has become more or less committed to a role, in the
process of presenting one's self, experiencing and reading the feedback,
and correcting one's notion of what it is to be that kind of person. An
actor learns that the behavior signifying membership in a particular role
includes the kinds of clothes he wears, his posture and gait, his likes
and dislikes, what he talks about and the opinions he expresses---every-
thing that goes into what we call the style of life. Such aspects of be-
havior are difficult to conceptualize as either goals or means; in terms of
their relation to the role, at least, their function is better described as ex-
pressive or symbolic. But the same can be said even of the goals one
pursues and the means one employs; they too may communicate and
confirm an identity.
Now, givell a role, and given the orientations to goals and to means
that have been assumed because they are part of the social definition
of that role, there may be a disjunction between goals and means. Much
of what we call deviant behavior arises as a way of dealing with this
disjunction. As anomie theory has been formally stated, this is where it
seems to apply. But much deviant behavior cannot readily be formulat-
ed in these terms at all. Some of it, for example, is directly expressive of
the roles. A tough and bellicose posture, the use of obscene language,
participation in illicit sexual activity, the immoderate consumption of
alcohol, the deliberate flouting of legality and authority, a generalized
disrespect for the sacred symbols of the "square" world, a taste for mar-
ijuana, even suicide-all of these may have the primary function of af-
firming, in the language of gesture and deed, that one is a certain kind of
person. The message-symbol relationship, or that of claim and evidence,
seems to fit this behavior better than the ends-means relationship.
Sexual seduction, for example, may be thought of as illicit means
to the achievement of a goal. The point is, however, that the seduction
need not be an adaptation to the insufficiency of other means, a response
to disjunction. One may cultivate the art of seduction because this sort of
expertise is directly significant of a coveted role. Indeed, the very value
and meaning of the prize are conferred by the means employed. One
could, of course, say that the expertise is itself the goal, but then it is
still a goal that expresses and testifies to a role. Finally, one could say that
the goal of the act is to validate the role, and all these kinds of behavior
are means to this end. I think this statement is plausible and can be de-
fended. If it is the intent of anomie theory, then the language of tension
reduction does not seem to fit very well. The relation I have in mind, be-
tween deviant act and social role, is like the relation between pipe and
elbow patches and the professional role. Like the professor's behavior, it
is not necessarily a pis alIer, a means that one has hit on after others have
failed. It comrnends itself. it is QTatifvinp". hp(",<'Ill"P it "PPTI1~ ~n rio-ht_
14. Albert K. Cohen 207
not in a moral sense, but in the sense that it fits so well with the image
one would like to have of oneself.
One important implication of this view is that it shifts the focus of
theory and research from the disjunction and its resolution to the process
of progressive involvement in, commitment to, and movement among
social roles, and the processes whereby one learns the behavior that is
significant of the roles. One may, like the child acquiring his sex identi-
ty, come to accept and identify with a role before he is quite clear what
it means to be that sort of person, how one goes about being one. But
once one has established the identity, he has an interest in learning these
things and making use of that learning. Thus Howard Becker's dance
band musicians arrive at that estate by various routes. For many of
them, however, it is only as this identity is crystallizing that they fully
learn what being a musician means within the world of musicians. They
discover, so to speak, what they are, and what they are turns out to be
highly unconventional peopleP We seek roles for various reasons, some
of them having Uttle to do WiUl tension reduction, and having found
the role, come into unanticipated legacies of deviant behavior.
The same processes operate in movement in the other direction, to-
ward restoration to conformity. They are most dramatically illustrated in
religious conversion. As the sinner is born again, with a new identity
fashioned out of new roles, whole bundles of behavior, not all of them
deviant, are cast aside, and new bundles are picked up. Relatively little
may be learned by examining, one at a time, the items these bundles
contain, the sense in which they constitute means to ends, and their ad-
equacy to their respective goals. The decisive event is the transformation
of self and social identity. At that moment a wholesale transformation of
behavior is determined.
Anomie theory is, perhaps, concerned with one structural source of
deviance, while the ideas just presented are concerned with another.
Neither one need to be more faithful to reality than the other, and the de-
fense of one need not be a challenge to the other. But those who are in-
terested in the development of a general theory of deviance can hardly
let matters stand at that. Is it possible to make any general statements
about the kinds of deviance that may be attributed to anomie and the
kinds that may be attributed to role validation through behavior cul-
turally significant of membership in the role? Or may two instances of
al11f sort of deviant behavior, identical in their manifest or "phenotypic"
co~tent, differ in their sources of "genotypic" structure?
Ultimately, however, we must investigate the possible ways in
which the two kinds or sources of deviance interact or interpenetrate.
For example, does role symbolism function as a structural constraint on
'"1-. ......1... ,.,,; ... _ _ _ .... _1 _________ ..l ____ ,..l . . . . . . . _
~~c~~~~~ ~_..l !~_-'--.
208 Anomie
structural constraint on the choice of expressive symbolism? Does be-
havior that originates as a characteristic adaptation to the anomie asso-
ciated with a particular role, come in time to signify membership in that
role and thereby to exercise a secondary or even independent attraction
or repulsion, depending on one's orientation toward the role itself? Fi-
nally, is it possible that in any instance of deviant behavior, Of, for that
matter, any behavior, both processes are intertwined in ways that cannot
be adequately described in tenns of presently available modes of con-
ceptualization? I suggest that we must bring the two schemes into more
direct and explicit confrontation and try to evolve a formulation that
will fuse and harness the power of both.
NOTES
1. Robert K. Merton, "Social Struchue and Anornie," Americall Sociological
Review,3 (October, 1938), pp. 672-682, Social Theory and Social Structure,
Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1957, Chs. 4 and 5, and "Confonnity, Devia-
tion, and Opportunity-Structures," Americall Sociological Review, 24
(April, 1959), pp. 177-189; Richard A. Cloward, "Illegitimate Means,
Anomie, and Deviant Behavior," Americall Sociological Review, 24 (April,
1959), pp. 164-176; and Robert Dubin, "Deviant Behavior and Social
Structure: Continuities in Social Theory," Americall Socioloq-ical Review 24
(April, 1959), pp. 147-164. '"
2. I am not here concerned with empirical applications and tests of anomie
theory, on which there is now a large literahrre. In view of the sustained
interest in anomie theory, its enormous influence, and its numerous ap-
plications, however, it is worth noting and wondering at the relatively
slow and fitful growth of the substantive theory itself. It is of some inter-
est also that, with respect to both substantive theory and its applications,
there has been little follow-up of Merton's own leads relative to the im-
plications of anomie theory for intersocietal differences in deviance be-
havior. Almost all of the work has been on variations in deviance within
American SOCiety.
3. See, for example, how Henry and Short explicitly incorporate reference
group theory and relative deprivation into their theory of suicide. An-
drew Henry and James F. Short, Jr., Suicide alld Homicide, Glencoe, TIl.:
The Free Press, 1954, pp. 56-59.
4. Svend Ranulf, MoralIl1dignatioll and Middle-Class Psychologt;: A SOciologi-
cal Study, Copenhagen: Levin and Munksgaard, 1938.
5. Social Theon) and Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 357-368.
6. Ibid, pp. 361-362.
7. Ibid, pp. 179-181.
8. Neil J. Smelser, Theory of Collective Be1wvior, New York: The Free Press of
Glencoe, 1963, esp. Ch. 3.
" .,~. .- .'-,
14. Albert K. Cohen 209
10. Cloward, op. cit., and Richard E. Ohlin, DeliJ1qllcJ1cy mul OpportulIity, A
Tlteon) of DelillqllclIf Gangs, Glencoe, TIL: The Free Press, 1960.
11. Ibid.
12. Albert K. Cohen, Deli1lquent Boys, The Culture of tile Gang, Glencoe, TIL:
The Free Press, Ch. 3, and Merton, Social TlIeon) alld Social Strud'flI"C, op.
cil., p. 179.
13. Social Theon) and Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 71-82.
14. Robert F. Bales, Illteractioll Process Allalysis: A Method for the Study of Small
Groups, Cambridge: Addison-Wesley, 1950.
15. Herbert Blumer, "Society as Symbolic Interaction," in Arnold M. Rose
(ed.), Humalt Bchavior a/ld Social Processes, Boston: Houghton, Mifflin,
1962, pp. 179-192.
16. Talcott Parsons, The Social System, Glencoe, ill.: The Free Press, 1951, Ch.
7.
17. Howard S. Becker, Outsiders: Studies ill tTte 50cio[081) ofDevimlce, New
York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1963, esp. Ch. 2
18. Merton, Social Theory und Social StrHctllre, op. cif., p. 152; Cloward, op. cif.,
p. 175; Cloward and Ohlin, op. cit., pp. 179-184; Merton, "Conformity,
Deviation, and Opportunity-Structures," op. cif., pp. 188.
19. Dubin, op. cit., esp. p. 151, and Merton's remarks on "typology of re-
sponses to deviant behavior," in his "Conformity, Deviation, and Oppor-
tunity-Structures," op. cit., pp. 185-186.
20. Albert K. Cohen, "The Study of Social Disorganization and Deviant Be-
havior," in Robert K. Merton, Leonard Broom, and Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr.
(eds.), Sociologt) Today, New York: Basic Books, 1959, pp. 464-465.
21. William J. Chambliss, The Deterrent Illfluence of PlIIlisll1llellt: A Study Of tlle
Violatioll of Parking Regulations, M.A thesis (sociology), Indiana Universi-
ty,1960.
22. Frank Tannenbaum, Crime and the COIll11lWlih), New York: Ginn, 1938,
Ch. 7.
23. Op. cil., pp. 297-325.
24. Theodore M. lvlills, "Equilibrium and the Processes of Deviance and
Control," American Sociological Review, 24 (October, 1959), pp. 671-679.
25. Merton, Social Tlleory mId Social Structure, op. cit., pp. 360-368; Robert K.
Merton, and Robert A Nisbet, COllte11lpOran) Social Problems, New York
Harcourt, Brace, 1961, pp. 725-728.
26. George Herbert Mead, Mind, Self, alld Society, Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1934; Erving Goffman, Tlse Presmtatioll of Self ill Everyday
Life, New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1959, and Stigmll, Notes 011 the Ma/l~
agemellt of Spoiled Identity, Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1963.
27. Howard S. Becker, op. cit., Ch. 5.
 210 Anomie
Contemporary Application
15 Anomie and Corporate Deviance
NIKOS PASSAS
Al though Merton' 5 anomie theory can and should be regarded as a the-
ory that has been developing over the years, it has some potential yet to
be explored (cf. Passas 1988). It is suggested that it can be further devel-
oped and consolidated with points and analyses made in various theo-
retical perspectives. Such a "synthetic" or "integrative approach" reflects
the belief that no single theory can possibly exhaust the significance of,
or the questions relevant to, a particular object. TIle present paper illus-
trates this approach, in an attempt to enhance our understanding of cor-
porate deviance and to elucidate the background against which
corporations are likely to .evade institutional and legal norms. At the
same time, relevant literature and research findings are reviewed. Final-
ly, some wider implications for the social order of the conditions making
for such evasions and of the evasions themselves are briefly discussed.
It is argued that the structure of contemporary societies is inherent-
ly anomie-promoting; that is, contradictions within it set in motion
processes, whereby the lines betvveen legitimate and illegitimate be-
haviour and acts are blurred. In an anomic environment, where there
is a degree of uncertainty or confusion as to what is and what is not ac-
ceptable, comparatively high rates of deviance can be expected. Al-
though the analysis is arguably relevant to socialist societies, the paper
focuses upon capitalist societies.
Corporate deviance refers here to illegal acts of corporate officials for
the corporation and in accordance with its goals, and offences of the
corporation itseU, which entail serious physical, economic or social costs
(comp. Clinard and Quinney 1973: 188; Schrager and Short 1978:
411-412). The notion of corporate deviance, thus, is not restricted to
criminal offences, but includes activities constituting breaches of civil
and administrative rules as well.
Is the Mertonian framework, originally designed for individual re-
sponses, adequate for the study of this type of organisational behav-
Reprinted from Nikos Passas, "Anomie and Corporate Deviance," COllkmpomry Crises,
va!. 1<1, pp. 157-78, © 1990 by KJuwer Academic Publishers. With kind permission from
KJuwer Academic Publishers.
Parts of an earlier version of this paper were presented at the 10th International Con-
I!n>S<; for ('riminolno-v h.,lrl in i-l'.,mh"rD PRr:: in <:;",n/",rnh",' 1 QAA
15. Nikos Passas 211
iour? That this question can be answered positively has been indicated
in Merton's analysis of the political machine and the racket (cf. Merton
1968: 132 fn.). Recently, a number of scholars have found this frame-
work useful for the understanding of corporate deviance (cf. Vaughan
1982 and [1983]1985: 54-87), including earlier critics (cf. Box 1983: 34-35;
Braithwaite [1984]1986: 368). The task at hand, then, is twofold: to high-
light anomie theory's relevance to this issue, and its complementarity
with other theoretical traditions in the sociology of deviance.
A central proposition of anomie theory is that discrepancies between
cultural goals and institutional means available to people for the
achievement of these goals make for a weaker commitment to prevailing
standards (Le., anomie or anomic trends) and deviant behaviour. It
stresses the point that the over emphasis on success goals and the striv-
ing for the realisation of continuously higher targets are culturally in-
duced. Because of limited access to opportunities, the lower classes have
been seen by Merton as more vulnerable to pressures conducive to
anomie and deviance than the upper classes. By consolidating anomie
theory with reference group and relative deprivation analysis, however,
it can be shown that, as the meaning and content of success goals vary
from one part of the social structure to another, similar difficulties in at-
taining diversely defined goals may be faced by people in the upper so-
cial reaches too; they are, therefore, far from immune to pressures
towards deviance (cl. Passas 1987; Passas 1988: chapters 4 and 5).
Further, it is essential to note that the maxime of ceaseless striving
for success-especially monetary success-is not simply a cultural mes-
sage, which just happens to obtain in contemporary societies. It is also
reinforced by the capitalist mode of production in Western countries. It
is inherent to this mode of production and, one might argue, it corre-
sponds to a "condition of its existence." This is not to say that the one ex-
ists because of the other, but rather that they are mutually supportive. In
this context, some of the prominent goals set for business and organisa-
tions in general are profit, growth and efficiency. Although large corpo-
rations "may have other goals, such as the increase or maintenance of
corporate power and prestige, along with corporate growth and stabil-
ity, their paramount objectives are the 1IlaXilllisatiol1 of profits and the gen-
eral financial success of the corporation ... " (CUnard 1983: 18, emphasis
added). So, it is not only that profits have to be made; the target is max-
imum possible profits (obviously, this is a simplification for analytical
purposes, and it should not be taken as an empirical assertion that this
is always so; but, one may plausibly assume that this is frequently the
case). There is no defined and definite stopping point, the target is a
ITIOlTjnlT onP' thp O"::lITIP ('h::lo::pr1 h" (';:lnil-::Ilio::to:: ::Inn r::lnit::l1i~t rnrnnr;:lfinn~
212 Anomie
is typically Hydra-headed. The capitalist !lrace" is never-ending as com-
petitors keep joining in. So, "even as some firms fall behind or drop out
of the race, new firms enter afresh, and even the leaders must worry
about this potential competition" (Bowles and Edwards 1985: 88) ..
Thus, cultural prescriptions correspond, in a sense, to necessities in
the realm of business and corporations. Never-ending achievement,
mostly measured Of measurable in terms of money, is "required" for
the participation in this race. These aims which shape and determine
to a great extent the functioning of organisations can be best achieved
when they are passed on to those working in and for them, especially to
those who occupy the higher ranks. A certain degree of harmony be-
tween organisational values and goals, and those of the organisation's
members can be, thus, secured. Training classes and socialisation
processes are promoted to attune members to the organisational goals,
because, as "business firms depend on their members' skills to attain
goals, they must ensure that members' motivations and values are con-
sistent with the organisation's needs" (Vaughan [1983], 1985: 69; cf. also
Peters and Waterman 1982; Ermann and Lundman 1982: 7-8).
The members' cornmihnent to their firm's goals is further enhanced
by the realisation that the attairunent of their own ends depends large-
lyon the prosperity of the firm. People's involvement in high pOSitions
in organisations, corporations, industry etc. not only facilitates and "re-
quires" such a comrrtihnent, but may also be seen as instrumental to
their personal success. It is not only in the scientific cominunity that
"the institutional goal and the personal reward are tied together" (Mer-
ton 1957: 659). In a similar manner, the personal interests of highly
placed individuals are connected with those of the corporation-al-
though they need not always coincide (comp. Vaughan [1983]1985: 70).
Thus, a combined effect of culturally propagated themes of success and
continuous striving, the peculiar "business ethic," and organisational
demands may be, as Gross has found upon a survey of various data,
that people at the top of organisations tend to be "ambitious, shrewd
and possessed of a nondemanding moral code." He has also observed
that:
Their ambition will not be merely personal, for they will have discov-
ered that their own goals are best pursued through assisting the or-
ganisation to attain its goals. While this is less true, or even untrue at
the bottom of the organisation, those at the top share directly in the
benefits of organisational goal achievement, such as seeing their stock
values go up, deferred compensation, and fringe benefits. (Gross 1978a:
71)
Speaking of intellectuals in a public bureaucracy and socially induced
rates of oattemf-'n rhnirp. Stinrhrnmhp h;'l<:: m;'lint;'linpr1 th;\t "Rpnptithrp
situational adaptations form character. Thus, the timidity and narrow-
mindedness of a bureaucracy are not only maintained because the situ-
ations that produce timidity and narrowness are continuously present.
They are also maintained because over time the people in th:m become
timid and narrow" (Stinchcombe 1975: 26). The argument 15 also rele-
vant, JHutatis l1lutandis, to business people, who are "trained" to be ruth-
less at work, in relation to their distinct patterned choices. Bradley and
Wilke (1974), for instance, have recounted the story of a Business School,
where students were divided into competing teams, simulating rival
firms, and asked to deal with a set of problems, in order to assess "how
successful the teams were at the end of the term." The winning team, it
was subsequently discovered, has cheated by collecting t~e notes
thrown away in paper bins ~y their opponents, and were thus m a bet-
ler position to beat them. Although. some of th~ t~aching ~~aff thou,?ht
that the students ought to be penalised for thetr offence, others af-
filmed that the students had performed exceptionally well and ~e1t?~ed
as thell would want them to behave as bltsil1eSSIlleJ1 hell-bel1t 011 maxl1JuslI1.g
their ;ppottunities {md tahllg every possible advantage" (Bradley and Willde
1974: 90, emphasis added).
Nevertheless, as with other types of deviance, such responses to en-
vironmental encouragements to succeed, even through "innovation,"
can be best understood as role-behaviour. Merton's statement, that "cer-
tain phases of social structure generate the circumstances in which in-
fringement of social codes constitutes "normal" (that is to say, an
expectable) response" (Merton 1968: 185-186), has been endorsed by
students of "white-collar crime" (cf. Aubert 1968: 177; Spencer 1968:
337). Organisations constitute themselves distinct s~cial structures: the
members of which are confronted by special behavlOur:al expectations
(cf. Hall 1977: 26). They should not be considered, however, in isolation
from other social structures and the wider society. So, the same actor
under different conditions and in different roles may behave in very
different manner. It would be erroneouS to assert that people who en-
gaged in "reckless" activities at work and in certain c~nditions d~ so ,:ill
always and at every phase of their daily life. According to Bralthwalte,
Rather than think of corporate actors as individual personalities, t~ey
should be viewed as actors who assume certain roles .... Understandmg
how "ordinary men are led to do extraordinary things" can begin with
role-playing experiments. (Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 2)
In support of this argument, Braithwaite has cited a study of manage-
ment students from ten countnes carried out by Armstrong (1977). The
students were asked to play the roles of board members of a pharma-
.' • 1 , • t , "_ . • ' ____ " , _ .J.. __ ._ L. ___ Ll.. _ _ _ _ 1._L_
 214 Anomie
drug which eVidently endangers human life. Seventy-nine per cent of
them acted in exactly the same way as a company (Upjohn) did, in real
life: they refused to remove the drug and attempted to prevent a gov-
ernment ban via legal and political manoeuvres. On the other hand,
when the struchrral setting was modified for them, and they were asked
to play roles in boards including public-interest directors, their deci-
sions were more sOcially responsible. Such behaviour and decisions, Can
be seen as adaptations to both cultural and organisational expectations-
though other factors, such as the perceived state of the environment,
personal beliefs and idiosyncracies would have to be taken into account
for a fuller pichlre (cf. Simon 1976: 43-44).
Multiple and contradictory as organisational ends may often be, the
goal of profit cannot be overlooked. Moreover, this goal may have to be
attained by nil 11Iea115, particularly when the continuation of the corpo-
ration is at stake (cf. Scherer 1980: 38; cf. also Box 1983: 35; that this also
applies to non-profit organisations has been argued by Vaughan [1983],
1985: 63).
Uncertainty, competition, technological improvements adding to
the efficiency of other more powerful firms, and pursuit of parallel goals
render the task formidable. In addition, anti-trust and other legislations
disallow certain manoeuvres. TIle state has been increasingly interven-
ing by stipulating acceptable standards by which legitimate economic
objeclives should be pursued (Carson 1975: 225) and official attitudes to-
wards the regulation of Ille upper world are recently changing (Levi
1987: 15). As a result, the legally prescribed channels leading to the re-
alisation of corporate objectives are relatively restricted. 'The employ-
ment of deviant methods, therefore, may be the only possible way of
dealing with problematic situations, or may be perceived as such.
Finney and Lesieur's conclusion, that "organisations ... col1l1lIit crillres
to achieve their objectives and solve tlleir problems and that commitment to
deviant courses of action involves normal processes of decision mak-
ing under conditions of limited rationality" (Finney and Lesieur 1982:
289; emphasis added), suggests that corporate deviance can be described
in terms of organisational "innovation" (in the Mertonian sense). Box
has also argued that, being a" goal-seeking entity" makes a corporation
"inherently criminogenic, for it necessarily operates in an uncertain and
unpredictable environment such that its purely legitimate opportlllliUes for
goal achievement are sometimes limited and constrained" (Box 1983: 35, em-
phasis added). In these cases, there is a strain towards innovative solu-
tions, ranging from acceptable practices to illegal "innovation" (cf. Box
1983: 36). The "incredible" electrical conspiracy (cf. Smith 1970), which
received a great deal of publicity in the USA back in 1961 and resulted in
nr;,",," '"O"~o,..., ...."'<' fro .. 'h"";~ .... ...,,,~~_ 1- __ 1- _____ ' ___1__
15. Nikos Passas 215
wards the reduction of such uncertainty and profit (Geis 1968: 116). As
Geis has noted, these are motives behind much human actiVity, not only
deviant. The cultural accent on success and money, however, om-
nipresent in the business world and thereby strengthened even more,
makes for "innovation" rather than "conformity," particularly in com-
petitive conditions.
The continuing uncovering of often planned and dangerous corpo-
rate illegalities in various industries indicates that Illey are, in fact, any-
thing but rare (most presidents of the thousand top North-American
manufacturing firms have supported this view; cf. Green 1972: 149-150
and 472). A study of a large number of trade violations has further in-
dicated that they are related to the environmental scarcity of resources
(Staw and Szwajkowski 1975). This highlights the fact that the pursuit of
money (whether it represents a means or a goal in itself), can be re-
garded-in abstract-as a goal, the over-commitment to which is re-
sponsible for many a deviant act. In this way, one need not give the
impression of "squeezing" complicated social facts into the Mertonian
framework, as Vaughan might have done. She has convincingly argued
that scarcity of resources leads to unlawful organisational behaviour,
but has unnecessarily referred to a scarcity of means and ends (and
"scarcity of ends" is difficult to conceive as conducive to "innovation,"
which pre-supposes the retention of a legitimate goal):
The structural availability of both ends and means can be limited ... not
only by insufficient supply, but also by the inability or unwillingness to
obtain a commodity at a given price. Thus, some scarcity can always
exists. And when the competitor is threatened with potential loss in
that legitimate competition due to scarcity of means or ends, innova-
tion may result. (Vaughan [1983], 1985,58)
In any event, the point is that one would expect a high rate of deviance
among the corporations facing difficulties. Indeed, Clinard and Yeager's
extensive study has found an association between financial performance
and illegalities, as "firms in depressed industries as well as relatively
poorly performing firms in all industries tend to violate the law to
greater degrees" (Clinard and Yeager 1980: 129). Nevertheless, it is not
only problematic or unsuccessful firms which violate the law (and only
a theory based solely on "objective deprivation" would expect this to be
the case). The same authors have also found that some well established
industries (e.g., oil, pharmaceutical and car industries) are more deviant
than others, and added that a firm's size, growth and success cannot
provide, by themselves, a sound basis for predictions of illegal behav-
iour (Clinard and Yeager 1980: 104-107 and 132: cf. also Braithwaite
[1984],1986). Subjective---or, more appropriately for organisations, in-
!J1 ___ ' <._. _ _ 1 ____ !..l_. __ ,-'_. _______ • __ .• _,._._, ." .. _,,_ .• _ _ _ _ I. • . . . _,._ • __ • • ,r
 216 Anomie
they are not "really" So. Furthermore, with the continuous renewal of
g~als once the previous ones have been achieved, strains can always
anse.
Under co~bin~d ~res/s~es, highly placed individuals may perpe-
tr~te offences, In tI:err firm 5 mterest. According to Gross, "persons who
Will ,engage In cnme On behalf of the organisation will most likely
be ... lts top people" (Gross 1978a: 71). None the less, a large proportion
of corporate deVIance 15 actually committed by middle-range officials,
and results from pressures from the top. That is, personal ambitions of
those at the top as well as organisational demands may create internal
pressures on those less highly located, possibly independently from ex-
ternal pressures. A possible reaction of those in the middle, who strive
for upward mobility within the corporation, is to break ethical and legal
rules. Thu:" Gr~5s' argument that people violate the law, "should it seem
to be reqUIred.n: order to enable the organisation to attain its goals, to
prosper, or, rrurumally, to survive" (Gross 1978a: 72), may be applied
both to those at. the top and to those who aspire to get there.
.Upon a reVIew of several studies, Box has argued that it is not only
~r sunply tha~ ~ubordinates receive "offers they can't refuse," but that
c~rporate offiCIals are frequently placed in a position where they are re-
qUITed to choose between impairing their career chances or being a loyal
organisational person" (Box 1983: 42). Under these circumstances, ei-
~her becaus,; of fea~ t? lose their jobs or because of a strong desire to
get ~ea~, . the recIpIents of such pressures are likely to do "the dirty
work. This.'5 congruent with evidence cited by Box (1983: 42-43).
In addition, here are the words of a cashier who broke the law with-
out informing his superiors: "There is no doubt that I juggled the books
bu~ I was under orders to balan~e the books no matter what means" (quot~
ed ID Cressey 1953: 63, emphaSIS added). Among the details of a fraud
known as. the "Equity Funding Case" in the D.S.A. which "resulted in
losses estimated at $2 billion, the victims being the company's insur-
ance customers," Clinard and his colleagues have reported that,
At comp~ll¥ dire~tioll, one computer specialist created fictitious insur-
anc.e poliCIes ~~th a value of $430 million, with yearly premiums to-
tallIng $5.5 million. (Clinard et al. 1979: 15, emphasis added)
P: pharmaceutical executive has pointed out that, if a lower level execu-
tive goes to the president to consult him about the solution of a problem
and the president says '
"Look, it'~ ~our co~cem to get arOl~nd ~ problem the best way you
can. I dOH t want to know !Jaw YOll do It, but Jllst get the job dOlle", then the
lo~er level executive will go and bend the rules. (Quoted in Braith-
walte [1984], 1986: 322, emphasis added)
15. Nil<os Passas 217
As has been observed, sometimes
.' .goals are set too lligh or are simply tlHreasollaule. Then, an employee
often confronts a hard choice-to risk being branded incompetellt by
telling superiors that they ask too much, or to begin taking rH/ethical or il-
legal shortcuts. (Getschow 1979: 1, emphasis added)
CUnard's survey has revealed that "middle management was clearly of
the opinion that the very nature of top management's position and its ac-
hlal behaviour is largely responsible for unethical or illegal corporate be-
haviour" and that it "sets the ethical tone of the corporation" (Clinard
1983: 71 and 89). According to Clinard's respondents, middle manage-
ment works under many pressures, the most important being pressures
to show profits and to keep costs in line, time pressures, and production
and sales quotas (Clinard 1983: 91). 90.6 per cent of the executives said
that "they felt such pressures do lead to unethical behaviour within a
corporation" (Clinard 1983: 95; cf. also 140-144). In brief, Clinard's sub-
jects believed that, although external forces are not negligible, internal
pressures, individual ethics and personal ambitions contribute greatly to
corporate deviance.
Aubert has analysed his data £ram research conducted in Nonvay in
terms of "universalistic" and "particularistic obligations" (cf. Stouffer
and Toby 1951). He has pointed out that people's roles as members of
the business community, on the one hand, and as law-abiding citizens,
on the other, are often in conflict (cf. also Baumhart 1968: 129-130). When
the former takes precedence over the latter, law violations are likely to
occur:
The felt universalistic obligation is to obey the law, an Obligation which
finds some support in the "general sense of justice," bllt wlliclr is /lot
fortified by venj strong or efficient sUllctioJls against breach. The felt par tic-
ularistic obligation implies avoidance only of certain blatant offences
and, on the other hand, resistance to these laws in general. This is aH
obligation to busi1less colleagues, supported by tlleil' ideology alldfreqllelltly
also by profit motives. (Aubert 1968: 179-180, emphasis added)
But, not all business people will attempt to resolve such a conflict in the
same fashion. An implication of this is that further inquiry into the con-
ditions, under which allegiance to this or that reference group prevails,
may enhance our understanding of both deviance and conformity. Much
of corporate deviance can be described as "non-conformity," in the sense
that breach of legal norms constitutes, at the same time, behaviour con-
forming to standards and procedures prevalent in the corporate world.
Such standards may emerge out of efforts to deal with problematic sit-
uations and structurally generated strains. They may be further pro-
mntf'o ano maintainp:o. hnwp:vP:r. thrOllP'h nrn('Pssp:s of intpT<lf'tlon
 218 Anomie
leading to widespread rationalisatioTIs, which "excuse" or even "legit-
imise" illegal practices. In his study of embezzlement, Cressey (1953)
has shown how verbalisations enabling illegalities and preserving re-
spectability (at least, subjectively) are used by individuals acting for
the:nsel~es. In the context of corporations, where personal and organi-
sational mterests often go hand in hand, the significance of such "ex-
cuses" can be even greater. Self-esteem is more easily maintained as
~eviant acts are committed on behalf of the firm, though these are also
mstnunental to the achievement of personal ends. This has been encap-
sulated very well in a judge's statement-describing what sociologists
~ould ,call "non-conformity"-before he passed the sentence to partic-
Ipants ID the electrical conspiracy in USA:
T~ey were torn ~etvvee!,- c~n5cience and ~ approved corporate policy,
WIU1 U1e r~warding objective of promohol1, comfortable security, and
larg~ salanes. They were the organisation, or company, man; tile COII-
f01·I1.II~t wllO goes alollg with his superiors and finds balm for his conscience in
?ddltJ~"al comforts and securihJ of his place ill tile COlporatc set-lip. (Quoted
ID GelS 1968: 111, emphasis added)
Ration~lisati~ns and systematised beliefs about the "business-like" way
of dealing With things may come together and form deviant sub-cul-
tures. While such sub-cultures or "ideologies" may come into exis-
tence-within a corporation or, more generally, among business
people-as a result of structural strains, they are also transmitted as a
generalisation by phrases such as 'we are not in business for our health',
'business is business', or 'no business was ever built on the beatitudes'"
(Sutherland [1949], 1961: 240). As a consequence, their respect for, and
commItment to, the law (or, more accurately, particular laws) is de-
creased. Anomic trends may then ensue, as the use of profitable and ef-
~ective ~ut illegal techniques becomes widespread and conveys the
lffipresslOn th~t successful business and law are sometimes incompati-
ble. As a convIcted corporate official characteristically put it,
~o o~e attending the ~athering [of the conspirators] was so stupid he
dldn t kn?w the meetings were violations of the law. But it is the only
way a bllsmess call be ntn. It's free enterprise. (Quoted in CUnard and
Yeager 1980: 298, emphasis added)
This may be genuinely believed by those who engage in illegal behav-
IOur. TIus very fact, nevertheless, illustrates the degree of anomie in the
realm of business, since law-breaking and respectability are not thought
to be mutually exclusive. Business represents a legitimate activity and, to
be sure, benefits society in many ways. But, when the cliche "business is
business" is uttered in defence of law Violations, the lines between what
i.:: lpo-itiITl""t", ::1.,..,rI ",h",,;c ;110 ....;1-.; ........ 1-....... .-.~ f" ......... T_
offenders are in a better position to neutralise or rationalise their acts,
and at the same tinle preserve their self-esteem. With weakened sup-
port for lawful behaviour, considerations of cost and profit take prece-
dence over others. As CUnard has observed, one may expect that,
... a corporation is most likely to engage in unlawful conduct WheJI SJlP-
port diminislies for legitimate procedures to be llsed ill reae/ling tile prOfit
goal, Under these conditions, firms may violate anti-trust laws and U1e
regulations of the TIC, OSHA, EPA, and other agencies if, by colllplying,
the costs to the corporation will be too Iligh. (Clinard 1983: 18, emphasis
added)
FfA =' Federal Trade Commission. EPA == Environmental Protection Agency, OSHA '"
Occupational Safety and Health Administration.
Matza introduced the concept of "drift" to describe the "episodic re-
lease from moral constraint," a crucial part of the process leading to
delinquency (Matza 1964: 69). He has avoided the related term
"anontie," partly because of its polysemy and partly to "suggest the
episodic rather than constant character of moral release" (Matza 1964:
69). Given that "anomie," as employed here, is a matter of degree and
refers to tendencies towards the weakening of people's allegiance to
prevailing social standards, Matza's contribution is relevant and can be
regarded, to a certain extent, as complementary. It may be proposed
that cultural messages of success, structural strains, neutralisations con-
JI
verting "infraction into mere action" and enabling "drift' (Matza 1964:
176), and anomie may be part of a complex circle conducive to deviant
behaviour.
It must be stressed, however, that we are not dealing here with ju-
venile "drifters," but with respected adults in powerful and influential
positions. Similarities in the mechanisms leading to deviance, in gener-
al, ought not to cloud the differences in the extent, content and conse-
quences of techniques of neutralisation and rule-breaking behaviour in
diverse structural locations. Slogans, such as "I didn't do it for myself,"
which prepare the ground for law violations (cf. Sykes and Matza 1957),
are not only available to young delinquents, but also to company exec-
utives. However, the demands of the larger society are not sacrificed
for those of a gang or friendship clique, but in the interest of small and
large corporations and their shareholders. Furthermore, unlawful prac-
tices are knmvn and common enough for corporate officials to resort to
them as the only way of coping with competition. The wider environ-
ment and economic necessities may jointly make for deviance and
anomie, since highly placed mangers sometimes operate on the as-
sumption (if not certainty) that other companies do break the law. As a
_ . . . ..l. __ c •. ____ . ___ .&.! •• _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .1.1-_ u __ ..... __ t::(\(\ ~~~~-,..,j..~ ....... ,.. \., .... ,.. .......
~_~~:~ n: ..... _...: __ _
 220 Anomie
vealed, they feel that, when the interests of their shareholders are COn-
cerned, they have no right to wrap themselves "in the mantle of moral
philosophers and judges." More interestingly, some argued that the eco-
nomic survival of the corporation "sometimes dictated that they vio-
late the law; if they did not, their stockholders would suffer, and otlzerjir1llS
"with less scrupulolls 11lallage1llel1t would win Ollt" (Silk and Vogel 1976:
228, emphasis added).
Sutherland has pointed out that, while perpetrators of "white-collar
crime" do not see themselves as "conforming to the stereotype of 'crim-
inal', they do customarily think of themselves as "law violators'"
(Sutherland [1949], 1961: 223). This is confirmed by a high-rank official
of a distilling company, whose comment also indicates the degree of
anomie and disrespect for legal standards: "We break the laws every
day. If YOIl think I go to bed at llight worrying about it, you're crazy. Everybody
breaks the law. The liquor laws are insane anyway" (quoted in Denzen
1977: 919, emphasis added). The development of such attitudes intensi-
fies existing anomic trends, and illegalities are perceived as an often in-
dispensable part of the ordinary way of going about business. Once the
degree of anomie has become comparatively acute, deviant acts may be
committed even in absence of particular problems or pressures: "Carried
to the extreme," Vaughan has remarked, "norm erosion might become so
extensive within an organisation that unlawful conduct occurs regardless
of reSOllrce scareilt/, (Vaughan (1983), 1985: 61, emphasis added).
TIle anornie climate may be illustrated by some practices of large
corporations, the complexity of which makes it difficult or impossible to
identify concrete individuals as liable for corporate offences. Corporate
deviance, then, may be either directly or indirectly traceable to corporate
elites. That is, deviance may be an intended or unintended consequence of
the pursuit of high goals, as the responsibility for their achievement has
been delegated to subordinates, who might bend the rules without in-
forming the top officials (cf. Ermann and Lundman 1982: 10-11). Fur-
thermore, in big companies, as in all bureaucratic structures, the
implementation of decisions involves several stages, tasks are frag-
mented and delegated to many different units, and people are separat-
ed from the ultimate consequences of tlleIT actions. In such criminogenic
situations (Gross 1978a; Jackal 1980), there may exist a long distance be-
tween the "criminal act" and the "criminal mind" (Braithwaite [1984],
1986: 308). This, however, does not mean that corporate officials are un-
aware of the fact that illegal acts are being committed. Instead of estab-
lishing procedures and controls in order to prevent them, some
companies not onLy tolerate them, but create a special post for a person
to be blamed, in case serious offences are discovered. It has been re-
15. Nikos Passas 221
parted that the position of "vice-president responsible for going to jail"
has existed in some companies, where
Lines of accountability had been drawn in the orgar.i.sation such that if
there were a problem and someone's he~d had to go ~n the chopping
block, it would be that of tile "vice-presldent responslble for gomg to
jail." (Braithwaite [1984], 1986, 308)
In an environment dominated by concerns of costs and benefits, a lack of
effective social control is likely to promote processes resulting in de-
viance and anomie. It seems that deterrence of corporate deviance is
not among the priority targets of societies pursuing "law and order."
This is small wonder, given that implicated in such activities are people
of great social significance, economic and political power. The relative
immunity and impunity of executives (especially those at the top),
which has been found to be a factor contributing to corporate deviance
(cf. Clinard and Yeager 1980), and the complicated issues involved in
the legislation and implementation of laws regulating corporations a~e
reiterated in the literature (cf. Carson [1971], 1975; Pearce 1976; Conldin
1977; Tiedemann 1977; Carson 1982; Box 1983; Braithwaite [1984], 1986),
and we need not go into detail.
It is essential, however, to note that the laxity of authorities, which
fails to deter corporate deviance, is a consequence of structural contra-
dictions. It is certainly true that corporations maintain good relations
with controlling agencies, and actively participate in the drafting of gov-
ernment regulations. With rapid social changes, aided by technological
advancement.?, some patterns of corporate deviance seem inevitable.
This, as well as the "non-conformity" of corporate officials, can be
analysed in terms of what Merton has called "institutionalised evasions
of institutional norms." These develop "when practical exigencies con-
fronting the group or collectivity (or significantly large parts of them) re-
quire adaptive behaviour which is at odds with long-standing norms,
sentiments, and practices" (Merton 1968: 372). Merton has also outlined
processes of interaction between controllers and controlled, whereby
the extent of unavoidable deviations from rules and their degree of vis-
ibility are continuously re-arranged, so that the maximum objectives of
both groups can be attained. The unrestricted observability of role-per-
formance is resisted because strict conformity is often made difficult by
situational demands, and because the interests involved are often di-
vergent. Illustrating this, Merton has remarked that, "The strong hostil-
ity toward 'close supervision' in business and industry evidently
expresses this doubly reinforced objection to the surveillance of role-
performance" (Merton 1968: 397).
 222 Anomie
Complete visibility would disrupt the functioning of the corpora-
tions and, as their social and economic importance is anything but neg-
ligible, it may negatively affect the whole society. In a statement about
the Ancien Regime in France, Foucault had noted that each social stra-
tum had its own margin of tolerated illegality. That "the non-enforce-
ment of rules, the non-observance of innumerable edicts and
ordonnances were a condition of the economic alId political fUHctioning of
tile sociehj" (Foucault 1975: 84, emphasis added), holds for many insti-
tutional norms regulating today's business activities. Moreover, the un-
desirable consequences of excessive social control are not only described
in G. Orwell's 1984, but also realised by criminologists recommending
"minimal policing" (albeit for working-class crime; cf. Kinsey et al. 1986).
On the other hand, lack of visibility of law-violations and enforcement of
the rules promotes deviance and anomie. The target, therefore, would be
a compromise on the "functionally optimum degree of visibility" (cf.
Merton 1968: 398-400). All this may help understand how laws and reg-
ulations are not strict enough or strictly enforced. Existing evidence and
estimates of the extent and cost of corporate deviance and crime (cf.
Kramer 1984), however, suggest that such optimum has not been
reached. Furthermore, it seems that, under the present circumstances, it
may be possible for contemporary societies to conciliate certain conflicts
in a satisfactory way. Economic national and trans-national concerns
often clash with other serious concerns, such as Civil rights, health, safe-
ty, etc. Many contradictions and radically opposed values and demands
are inextricably linked with prevailing cultural axioms and the capital-
ist mode of production.
The argument that "the world of t1le giant corporatiol1s does not neces-
sarily require t1legal behaviour in order to compete successfully" (Clinard et al.
1979: xix, emphasis in original), has been convincingly challenged. As
Gibbons has observed,
They based that claim on the fact that 40 per cent of the corporation did
not have a legal action taken against them in the rna-year period {they
have examined]. However, that conclusion seems weak, given the pos-
sibility that many of the forty "non-criminal" corporations may have
been involved in undetected violations or may have had legal actions
taken against them in earlier years. (Gibbons 1987: 296, emphasis in
original)
The "dark figure" of corporate deviance is indeed impossible to calculate
with any precision, but there are good reasons to believe that it is im-
mense (cf. Pearce 1976: 90-97; Box 1983: 44-47; Cullen et al. 1987: chap-
ter 2). An important factor contributing to the "dark figure" it also the
fact that members of controlling and controlled bodies belong to the
,.,~ ...... ~ ,.,~~,.,1~,., .,.'-~_1.. ___ • __ -'-1 •• ____ •• _.L ! __ l-1.. _ •• _1.._.1. _____ ! _ .. 1.1. _.-',: ••
15. Nikos Passas
to bring charges (Tiedemann 1977: 25). Further, Carson's study ot the
British oil industry has documented how a policy of speedy extraction of
reserves, necessary for Britain's position in the world economy, su-
perceded concerns with the workers' safety and led to a high rate of
deaths that could have been avoided. One of his central arguments was
that,
North sea's poor safety record has to be viewed against the background
of persistent preoccupation with rapid exploitation .. The preo~cupa­
tion with haste also penneated the practice of enforcement, contributed
to tile maintenance of a "privatised" relationship between controllers
and controlled, and became one of the main bones of contention in the
internecine wrangling which came to surround the administration of
offshore safety in the second half of the 1970s.... Ere long, til.e United
Kingdom would have to face up to the economic discipline imposed by
a refurbished system of international finance which no longer auto·
matically concurred in the view that her aspirations to a major world
role warranted special treahnent. (Carson 1982: 9 and 10)
Szasz has also demonstrated how illegal and dangerous actions are
sometimes "necessary" for the national economy. He has explored the
complex relationship between corporations generating hazardous waste
and organised crime participation in its disposal. Following a period of
inattention and lack of interest in developing an adequate method of
handling hazardous waste, if USA legislators-preparing for Resource
Conservation and Recovery Act 1976-had insisted on an immediate
shift to proper disposal, a major crisis would have resulted. Represen-
tatives of large corporations warned of the risks to the industry that
strict measures would entail, and succeeded in shaping the Act, so that
their companies would not be liable for the ultimate fate of their wastes
(Szasz 1986: 12-14). As Szasz has commented, neither "individual of-
ficeholders nor whole governments stay in office long if they pass legis-
lation which, even for the best and 1IIost popular of reasons, brings to a halt
industrial sectors central to the national economy" (Szasz 1986: 15, emphasis
added). An unintended consequence of that Act has been the entry of
organised crime elements, with whom corporations contracted for the
treatment and disposition of hazardous waste.
In brief, as Levi has concluded his study on fraud, "whether they are
market-makers, first-class chefs, or Presidential advisers, those who are
socially useful and create our wealth have to be allowed the occasional
peccadillo" (Levi 1987: 356-357). Nevertheless, the compleXity ot
processes relative to legislation, control and crime show that it would be
Simplistic and erroneous to argue that there is some sort of collusion in
the ruling classes culminating in corporate deviance, and that "the point
of forming a corporation is to avoid personal liability for criminallia-
1.:1:. __ 11 " , _____ '1nCl1. ".,0 ""n, T.L ____ ~ _1~~ •• _! ... ~ ... ~ ......... ~ ...... ~,.,"h ...,..;'"";.., .... L
 224 Anomie
ogists (those who contributed to the "Clinard Report": Clinard et al.
1979) for "not understanding" this and for suggesting measures "well
calculated to be ineffective" (Young 1981: 328). Contradictions, such as
those sketched above, are inherent to capitalist societies (cf. Krisberg
1975; Pearce 1976; Box 1983), but not only to them.
The analysis here has concentrated on capitalist societies. However,
Gross (1978b) has argued that the mechanisms leading to corporate de-
viance are the same, in both capitalist and sodaHst societies: the pur-
suit of important goals (cited in Braithwaite [1984J, 1986: 368). By taking
into account the different priorities set by corporations in Eastern coun-
tries and the equally heavy pressures to meet their own goals (e.g. pro-
duction quota), the Mertonian type of analysis can shed light to
processes making tor evasion of established standards there, too (cf. also
Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 368).
Apart from the relevance of this theoretical framework to Eastern so-
cieties, the point is that the type of problems discussed above are not
unique to the West, and that no ready-made solutions are available.
On the other hand, these processes making for deviance and anomie
have wider implications and go beyond the white-collar world. In West-
ern societies~ and especially in North America, there is evidence of an in-
creasing public awareness and concern about deviance and crime
comitted by the powerful (cf. Braithwaite 1979: 186; Cullen et al. 1982;
Box 1983; 65-66; Cullen et al. 1984: 107-111; Kramer 1984: 27-30; Braith-
waite [1984J, 1986: 6-7). The growing public consciousness and sensi-
tivity may create a social climate favourable to more effective regulations
and controL In addition, a IIforceful demonstration that the law is failing
to realise its own professed principles may have the beneficial effect of
shaming it into action" (Box 1983: 66; cf, alEo Kellens 1977: 98-99).
As the legitimacy of legal institutions and the state may be thus un-
dermined (Box 1983: 67), however, another (perhaps, parallel) effect may
be the creation of a wider anomic context.1 In many cases the gap be-
tween principles and practices cannot be closed effectively without dis-
rupting economic life. There are also sodal and technical-legal
difficulties, when it comes to sanctions against law violations of large
corporations. When the company itself is sentenced, its members and the
public at large may be affected. Fines, for instance, may be included in
the cost of production and result in increased prices of final products
or services. To cite a concrete example~ top executives of the companies
involved in the electrical conspiracy and fined a total of $1.8 million,
"persuaded the internal Revenue Service that all legal expenses, fines,
and damages could be written off as 'ordinary and necessary' expenses
of doing business" (McCaghy 1985: 226). Further, it may not be possible
'-_ , .1 ___ " r__ ,t.· ,. " ,...- •• .,.,. ~ .,
j
undue lenience can bring about anomic attitudes: disrespect for crinrinru
law or withdrawal of allegiance to the values underpinning it.
In his pioneering work on IIw hite-collar crimes," Sutherland has
maintained that they constitute violations of "trust and therefore create
j
distrust; this lowers social morale nnd produces social disorganisation"
(Sutherland [1949J, 1961: 13, emphasiS added). it is smaller wonder, then,
that he saw the analysis of processes of "differential association" as com-
plementary to analyses of "allomie or the lack of standards which direct
j
the behaviour of members of the society in general or in specific areas of
behaviour" (Sutherland [1949J, 1961: 253; emphasis in original). Dahren-
dorf's (1985) recent analysis of "Law and Order" has also suggested
that disregard of the law, patterns of impunity and relaxation of nor-
j
mative constraints bring the society ., on the road to Anomia" (though,
being chiefly concerned with the lIunderclass," he has not brought out
the significance of his argument for the upper classes). Moreover~ anom-
ic tendencies and cynicism may spread, as people from ail strata know
j
about serious deviant acts committed by incumbents of privileged po-
sitions. Perceptions of non-observance of legal and propriety standards
in high social positions can lead to a weakening or withdrawal of alle-
giance to these standards by those in lower ranks. Justifications may be
j
thus prOvided for acts not in accord with widely held values or for J'neu-
tralisations" of these values. In other cases, the outcome can be that
these values themselves are undermined, and disrespect of the law or
desire for revenge may ensue, The potential of such consequences of
j
corporate deviance has been mentioned by several scholars (along with
supportive evidence), though not in terms of "anornic" conditions or
tendencies (e.g., Clinard and Abbott 1973: 57; Conldin 1977: 8; Leigh
1977: 129; Braithwaite [1984], 1986: 321; Gibbons 1987: 297).
j
It ought not to be overtooked, however~ that processes conducive to
deviance and anomie do not originate only in the upper social reaches.
Similar nlechanisms operate in the lower ones and bring about or sup-
port, among others, "organised crime." Merton's analysis of the political
j
machine has shown how it represents an alternative route to success for
those "excluded from the more conventional avenues for personal'ad-
vancement' " (Merton 1968: 130). Organised crime provided another
channel for those socially disadvantaged. As Whyte has observed.
j
Politics and the rackets have funtished an important means of sodal
mobility for individuals, who, because of ethnic background and low
class position, are blocked from advancement in the "respectable" j
channels. (Whyte 1943, quoted in Merton 1968: 132)
In this light, and given the economic identity of both legitimate and il-
• ' •• , • ' . . , . ,1 ,... 1 ,1_'". _ 1__ _
j
j
226 Anomie
dealings with both. The two constitute responses to similar cultural and
economic demands:
In both instances, many features of the structural contexts are identical:
(1) market demand for goods and servicesj (2) the operator's concern
with maximising gains from their enterprises; (3) the need for partial
control of government which might oUlerwise interfere with these ac-
tivities of businessmen; (4) the need for an efficient, powerful and cen-
tralised agency to provide and effective liaison of "business" with
government. (Merton 1968: 134)
There are by now several studies documenting inter-relationships be-
hveen respectable people and organisations with organised crime, which
is fostered by structural discrepancies, responds to societal demands,
adapts to social changes, is "stratified" and operates in a way similar
to legitimate business (cf., among many others, McIntosh [1971J, 1982
and 1975; Chambliss 1976; Adacchi 1986; Sza5z 1986; Smart 1988). An
important implication of studies on high-status occupational deviance
(Passas 1989), corporate deviance and organised crime, therefore, is that
cultural and structural contradictions penneate the whole society. The
(analytically) same mechanisms operate in the upper and the lower 50-
cialsegments of contemporary societies. The outcomes are expected to
be different, however, as they depend on the particular opportunities
offered to people to act in legitimate or illegitimate manner.2
CONCLUSION
Durkheim ([1930J, 1983) has stressed the chronic state of anomie in the
realm of industry and trade, whereas Merton emphasised the pressures
leading to high rates of deviance and more acute anomie in the lower
strata. The foregoing analysis suggests that each of them has illuminat-
ed part of the same social phenomenon, and that their insights as well as
those of other theorists are not mutually exclusive, but quite compatible
and, to a certain extent, complementary. The processes leading to de-
viance, anomie and further deviance can be "thought," schernatically, as
follows: structurally induced problems and strains make for deviance;
when situations calling for problemsolving departures from institutional
norms persist, social interactions foster the development of deviant but
effective patterns of action, along with (subcultural) rationalisations
"justifying" them. Given the existence and "legitimation" of such prac-
tices, more of them can occur even in absence of any compelling pres-
sures. Such interactions amplifying deviance could be disrupted and
minimised through mechanisms of social control. Additional contra-
dictions. hnwpvpr Ip::l.1incr ~n :> r"'!"H., ..... : ..... ~ •• ~~ ....... _! .. _ _ ~ . . . 1 ..
15. Nikos Passas 227
'duals and legitimate corporations, sustain and perpetuate such an
~ hI SOCIety.
.
ano rIDC climate affecting (at least, potentially) the woe
Corporate deviance is seen as a product of existin? cultural, struc-
tural and economic demands and arrangements. Iromcally, the forces
enabling technological achievements, economic development, prosper-
ity and growth are simultaneously conditions conducive to the .com-
mitment of harmful and, sometimes, frightful deviant acts. HIghly
valued objectives are frequently attained at the expense of other rightly
cherished values and life-standards. Cases, such as illegal dumpmg of
toxic and nuclear waste and pollution of the environment with disas-
trous short- and long-term effects, industrial accidents due to non-ob-
servance of safety regulations, non-withdrawal of dangerous
pharmaceutical products from the market, consumer fr~uds undermin-
ing public health, computer-related offences, ~conorruc frauds ~pset­
ting the economic life, are regularly reported m the mass medIa, but
represent only the tip of a multiply hazardous iceberg.
TIle fact that upper-world and corporate deviance is not always la-
beled and punished as criminal does not stop it from being economi-
cally and socially undesirable and costly. It is in view of these facts that
official statistics and research showing higher rates of crime among the
lower classes have to be considered (e.g., Braithwaite 1981). Data relative
to what is labeled by the authorities as crime do not reflect rates of seri-
ous and consequential deviant behaviour. We have seen that departures
from institutional norms occur in all structural positions. It becomes
clear that criminal statistics and research on crime are of limited value,
when the object of study is deviance, rather than an officially selected
part of it. That is, the above sources may provide useful information
and knowledge about the relationship between social strata and acts
prohibited by the law and handled by criminal courts. However, they
can do very little by way of highlighting the relationship between sooal
strata and socially undesirable and harmful departures from Institu-
tional rules and norms. If their importance and significance is to be
gauged by the social and economic cost to the society, the devianc.e of ~e
powerful (however defined officially) is more dangerous and dlsqillet-
ing, as the rising levels of public sensitivity also testify. This is not to
underplay the significance of predatory street-crime. It does represent a
grave social problem and it has to be "fought against" (Wilson 1975;
Lea and Young 1984; Kinsey et a1. 1986). It appears, however, exagger-
ated to argue that it constitutes the crime problem and that it is "a far
more serious matter than consumer fraud, anti-trust violations, etc"
(Wilson 1975: xx). Because, meaningful humane communities are jeop-
ardised also by such offences: a study of "over 1,000 indlviduals found
 228 Anomie
tently being sold shoddy products and had little or no faith in the mar-
ketplace. They felt that no one really cared about the consuming public"
(Bequai 1978: 12).
From the preceding analysis it follows that corporate deviance is a
very serious social problem. In spite of difficulties in controlling it ef-
fectively and the high costs of control itself to the society, our priorities
may have to be re-evaluated. One has to pose and try to answer the
pressing questions: what are the acceptable limits of tolerance? What
means of conlTol can be implemented (d., for example, Braithwaite 1982
and [1984], 1986: chapter 9)? What are the available functional alterna-
tives (i.e., realisation of the prevailing cultural goals by means of alter-
native strategies)? What structural alternatives (radical re-shaping of
existing structural and economic arrangements and revision of some of
the cultural goals themselves, given the exorbitant price we have to pay
for them) could be worked out realistically?
NOTES
1. This is not necessarily problematic or negative. An anomic context may
well be the companion or predecessor of desirable social change (cf. Pas-
sas 1988).
2. Cullen's (1984) discussion of "structuring variables," the factors influenc-
ing the content and form of deviant behaviour, is quite relevant here.
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CHAPTER IV
Differential Association
and Neutralization
The theoretical approaches discussed in the preceding chapters-func-
tionalism, social disorganization, and anomie--all concentrate on the
relationship behveen social structure and deviance. They examine soci-
etal structural conditions that are conducive to the development and
perpetuation of deviant behavior. None of these approaches, however,
adequately specifies the processes by which situations conducive to de-
viance are actually translated into action by individuals. The theory pre-
sented in this chapter represents an attempt to explicate the links
between social structural conditions and individuals' deviant behavior.
Differential association and neutralization theory share the basic view-
point that deviant behavior is learned in much the same way that con-
forming behavior is. While the processes involved in learning any
behavior pattern are essentially the same, the content and directions of
the learning differ as individuals respond to the varying pressures and
constraints or their environment.
As an explanation of the processes by which people learn to behave
in violation of conventional norms, Edwin H. Sutherland's theory of
differential association has had an impact on sociology in general and
the study of deviance in particular that has been at least as great as that
of social disorganization and anomie theories. In noting the effects of
social structure on behavior, Sutherland acknowledged the importance
of what he called differential social organization and differential associ-
ation. His focus, however, was less on social structure and more on the
interactional processes or associations that are involved in transmitting
and learning any behavior, deviant or conforming.
Sutherland challenged the prevailing determinism of disorganiza-
tion and anomie theories and the concept of lower-class deviance, in-
«tp:'J..-l h::lt::incr hit:: i..-lprt_t:: on thp notion that hhrh rates of deviance (crime.
 234 Differential Association and Neutralization
for instance) are due to factors related to the differential organization
of various geographical areas. Deviant behavior therefore is not simply
a reaction to defects within the society (Le., disorganization), social or
personal pathologies, or underlying social ills such as broken homes.
~ather, deviant behavior and high rates of deviance are normal expres-
SlOns of the social organization of subcultures within "deviant areas"
of the city. Specifically, deviant behavior is the product of the social life
of subcultural groups, the conflicting definitions of deviance to which
they are exposed, and various psychological processes that produce in
them an "excess of definitions favorable to violation of the law over de-
finitions unfavorable to violation of the law." This is the principle of
differential association specified by Sutherland and his coauthor, Donald
Cressey, in Reading 16.
Sutherland hypothesized that people acquire criminal behavior pat-
terns through the same process by which they acquire conventional be-
havior patterns: "Criminal behavior is human behavior, and has much in
common with noncriminal behavior." It must be explained within the
same general framework used to explain other human behavior, but
using specific conditions and processes to explain crime. In Sutherland's
learning approach to the study of criminal behavior, crime is seen as re-
lated to people's associations over time; criminal acts occur when situ-
ations are appropriate for their execution, as defined by the individuals
who commit them. Through their associations with others, individuals
learn values, nonns, motivations, rationalizations, techniques, and def-
initions that may be either favorable or unfavorable to violation of the
law. They then define the situations they are presented with as either
favorable or not favorable to law violation, depending on a person-
situation complex involving inclinations and abilities acquired in inter-
action with others. Individualsleam criminal behavior patterns and are
more likely to engage in criminal activity when an opportunity presents
itself if they have been exposed to criminal definitions for a longer pe-
riod of time, earlier in life, with more intensity, and more frequently
than they have been exposed to anticriminal definitions.
Donald Cressey develops these ideas in Reading 17, attempting to
specify further the content of what is learned. In this brief excerpt from
Other People's Money, he analyzes how embezzlers can commit crimes
without suffering self-incrimination or feelings of guilt. He also sug-
gests that "violation of trust" is learned not necessarily through direct as-
sociation with others but rather through any number of indirect
influences within the larger society. Cressey describes how rationaliza-
lions, coupled with a nonshareable problem, precede action and allow
individuals to behave in ways they might otherwise find unacceptable.
More important, he shows that rationalizations are learned and are part
of the cultural fabric of groups and societies.
In extending this basic premise, Gresham M. Sykes and David
Matza's "Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency"
(Readin" 18) deals with the content of what is both learned and ratio-
nalized.°In an extension of the fourth statement of Sutherland's theory,
specifically in reference to rationalizations (see Reading 16), Sykes and
Matza examine how a person who deVIates copes With the problem of
his or her norm violation. These authors oppose arguments that delin-
quent behavior springs from an all-pervasive deviant value-norm sys-
tem. Rather, they maintain that individuals seek to rationalize or
neutralize the guilt associated with deviance through a series of de-
fenses that place it in a favorable light.
Sykes and Matza suggest that delinquents are essentially committed
to the society's accepted values and norms, and that engaging in delin-
quent activity causes shame that must be neutralized if the delinquency
is to persist. They learn various verbal justifications or techniques of
neutralization for deviant behavior that serve to protect their self-image
and allow them to engage in delinquent behavior without experienc-
ing cognitive dissonance. Sykes and Matza believe that these techniques
are a crucial part of Sutherland's "definitions favorable to the violation
of law." They assert that delinquent's essentially "neutralize" the im-
portance of dominant cultural values, which enables them to view their
delinquent acts as acceptable, if not right.
In the Analysis and Critique section in this chapter (Reading 19),
Rass Matsueda provides not only an excellent synopsis of Sutherland's
theory of differential association but also an analysis of many of the crit-
icisms of the theory. He points out that the development of differential
association theory beginning in 1939 and culminating in its final revision
in 1947 has had a major impact in both sociological theorizing and em-
pirical research on crime and the emergence of the field of criminology.
Prior to this, explanations of crime focused on a multitude of factors
such as race, social class, and broken homes as causative variables that
resulted in crime. Critical of this sort of eclectic multifactor approach,
Sutherland sought to integrate these variables in a general theory of
crime that should provide a necessary and sufficient explanation of
IJ •••
crime, identifying those conditions that are always present when crime
is present and always absent when crime is absent." .
Matsueda shows how Sutherland, initially influenced by the Chica-
go sociologists, by the time of the final revision of this theory in 1947 had
broken with some of the central tenants of social disorganization theory.
Sutherland was interested not only in explaining why crime rates dif-
 236 Differential Association and Neutralization
fered between groups and societies, but also individuals' involvement
and participation in crime. In doing so, he focused on what he termed
differential social organization, differential group organization, and nor-
mative conflict in showing how the process of differential association
influenced noncriminal or criminal behavior as well as specific criminal
offenses. For many, the theory appeared to answer questions left unan-
swer~d by' so.cia! disorg~nization and anornie theory in their attempts to
explam crunmal behavlOf. Yet, there were questions about whether dif-
ferential association was an adequate explanation of crime and the
processes by which an individual comes to engage in criminal behavior.
Discussions about the explanatory power of differential association
th~~ry have focused on two issues: its empirical and theoretical applic-
abil.lty. Matsueda summarizes many of the criticisms of the theory, es-
pecIally those related to the difficulty in operationally defining SOme of
the major tenns so the theory can be empirically validated. In reviewmg
research that has focused on the ability to operationalize and measure
differential associations, as well as theoretical revisions of the theory,
Matsueda concludes that there is significant support for it. In fact, re-
sponding to many of those who claim that the theory as a whole is un-
supportable because it cannot be empirically tested, Matsueda argues
convincingly that "Some versions of this criticism are on shaky ground
because they fail to recognize that theories-being Sets of interrelated
propositions explaining a given phenomenon-are rarely testable as a
whole:" .r..:ratsueda also convincingly argues that Kornhauser's critique
and rejection of differential association in favor of Hirschi's social control
theory (discussed in Chapter V) and more recent integrated theory is
based upon errors in interpreting the intended meaning of Sutherland's
theory. Citing studies on control, integrated, and differential association
theory;. Matsueda concludes that this research lends itself to more sup-
por~ ~or the assumptions inherent in association theory, "but reqUires
additional research to specify the concrete content of its abstract princi-
ples."
The Contemporary Application and final selection (Reading 20) in
this chapter, "The Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among
College Students," examines the significance of nullifying the controlling
aspect ?f s~~lal norms so that engaging in nonconforming behavior be-
comes Justifiable and acceptable to the deviant. According to Suther-
land, an excess of definitions favorable to violations of the law over
t~ose unfavorable to violations of the law is a necessary condition for de-
Viance. However, having internalized these excess definitions does not
automatically lead to or enable one to engage in deviance. In addition to
internalizing these excess definitions and defining the situation as ap-
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey 237
propriate, deviance will be more likely when the individual is able to
play down his or her deviance by accepting the fact that the behavior-
while wrong, illegal, or undesirable-is nevertheless justifiable in that
situation. Having done 50, the individual is then more able to drift to-
ward deviance. McCabe's research on students who cheat on tests or
other major aSSignments supports this view. He demonstrates that prior
to cheating, students neutralize their ensuing behavior using the five
techniques outlined by Sykes and Matza.
16 The Tlteory of Differential Association
EDWIN H. SUTHERLAND and DONALD R. CRESSEY
THE PROBLEM FOR CRIMINOLOGICAL THEORY
If criminology is to be scientific, the heterogeneous collection of multiple
factors known to be associated with crime and criminality must be or-
ganized and integrated by means of explanatory theory which has the
same characteristics as the scientific theory in other fields of study. That
is, the conditions which are said to cause crime should be present when
crime is present, and they should be absent when crime is absent. Such a
theory or body of theory would stimulate, simplify, and give direction to
criminological research, and it would provide a framework for under-
standing the significance of much of the lmowledge acquired about crime
and criminality in the past. Furthermore, it would by useful in minintiz-
ing crime rates, provided it could be "applied" in much the same way
that the engineer "applies" the scientific theories of the physicist.
There are tvvo complementary procedures which may be used to
put order into criminological knowledge. The first is logical abstraction.
Blacks, males, urban-dwellers, and young adults all have comparative-
ly high crime rates. What do they have in common that results in these
high crime rates? Research studies have shown that criminal behavior is
associated, in greater or lesser degree, with such social and personal
pathologies as pover~ bad housing, slwn-residence, lack of recreation-
al facilities, inadequate and demoralized families, mental retardation,
emotional instability, and other traits and conditions. What do these
conditions have in common which apparently produces excessive crim-
inality? Research studies have also demonstrated that many persons
Reprinted from Edwin H. Sutherland and Don,11d R. Cressey, Criminology, 10th edition
(New York: Harper & Row Publishing, 1978), pp. 77-83. Copyright © 1978 by Donald R.
Cressey Estate.
 238 Differential Association and Neutralization
with those pathological traits and conditions do not commit crimes and
that persons in the upper socioeconomic class frequently violate the law,
although they are not in poverty, do not lack recreational facilities, and
are not mentally retarded or emotionally unstable. Obviously, it is not
the conditions or traits themselves which cause crime, for the condi-
tions are sometimes present when criminality does not occur, and they
also are sometimes absent when crirninality does occur, Ageneralization
about crime and criminal behavior can be reached by logically abstract-
ing the conditions and processes which are common to the rich and the
poor, the males and the females, the blacks and the whites, the urban-
and the rural-dwellers, the young adults and the old adults, and the
emotionally stable and the emotionally unstable who commit crimes.
In developing such generalizations, criminal behavior must be pre-
cisely defined and carefully distinguished from noncriminal behavior.
Criminal behavior is human behavior, and has much in common with
noncriminal behavior. An explanation of criminal behavior should be
consistent with a general theory of other human behavior, but the con-
ditions and processes said to produce crime and criminality should be
specific. Many things which are necessalY for behavior are not important
to criminality. Respiration, for instance, is necessary for any behavior,
but the respiratory process cannot be used in an explanation of criminal
behavior, for it does not differentiate criminal behavior from noncrimi-
nal behavior.
The second procedure for putting order into criminological knowl-
edge is differentiation of levels of analysis. The explanation or general-
ization must be limited, largely in terms of chronology, and in this way
held at a particular level. For example, when Renaissance physicists
stated the law of falling bodies, they were not concerned with the rea-
sons why a body began to fall except as this might affect the initial mo-
mentum. Galileo did not study the "traits" of falling objects themselves,
as Aristotle might have done. Instead, he noted the relationship of the
body to its environment while it was falling freely or rolling down an in-
clined plane, and it made no difference to his generalization whether a
body began to faU because it was dropped from the hand of an experi-
menter or because it rolled off the ledge of a bridge due to vibration
caused by a passing vehicle. Also, a round object would roll off the
bridge more readily than a square object, but this fact Was not significant
for the law of falling bodies. Such facts were considered as existing on a
different level of explanation and were irrelevant to the problem of ex-
plaining the behavior of falling bodies.
Much of the confusion regarding crime and criminal behavior stems
from a failure to define and hold constant the level at which they are
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R Cressey 239
explained. By analogy, many criminologists and others concerned with
understanding and defining crime would attribute some degree of
causal power to the "roundness" of the object in the above illustration.
However, consideration of time sequences among the conditions asso-
ciated with crime and criminality may lead to simplicity of statement. In
the heterogeneous collection of factors associated with crime and crim-
inal behavior, one factor often occurs prior to another (in much the way
that "roundness" occurs prior to "vibration/' and "vibration" occurs
prior to "rolling off a bridge"), but a theoretical statement can be made
without referring to those early factors. By holding the analysis at one
levet the early factors are combined with or differentiated from later
factors or conditions, thus reducing the number of variables which must
be considered in a theory.
A motion picture made several years ago showed two boys en-
gaged in a minor theft; they ran when they were discovered; one boy
had longer legs, escaped, and became a priest; the other had shorter
legs, was caught, committed to a reformatory, and became a gangster. In
this comparison, the boy who became a criminal was differentiated
from the one who did not become a criminal by the length of his legs.
But "length of legs" need not be considered in a criminological theory
because it is obvious that this condition does not determine criminali-
ty and has no necessary relation to criminality. In the illustration, the
differential in the length of the boys' legs apparently was significant
to subsequent criminality or noncriminality only to the degree that it
determined the subsequent experiences and associations of the two
boys. It is in these experiences and associations, then, that the mecha-
nisms and processes which are important to criminality or noncrimi-
nality are to be found.
TWO TYPES OF EXPLANATIONS OF
CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR
Scientific explanations of criminal behavior may be stated either in terms
of the processes which are operating at the moment of the occurrence of
crime or in terms of the processes operating in the earlier history of the
criminal. In the first case, the explanation may be called "mechanistic,"
"situational," or dynamic"; in the second, "historical" or "developmen-
tal." Both types of explanation are desirable. The mechanistic type of
explanation has been favored by physical and biological scientists, and
it probably could be the more efficient type of explanation of criminal
behavior. As Gibbons said:
 240 Differential Association and Neutralization
In many casEs, crimn:ality may be a response to nothing more tempo-
r?} than the provocations and attractions bound up in the immediate
crrcu~stances. It may ?e that, in some kinds of lawbreaking, under-
standmg of the behavlOf may require detailed attention to the con-
catenation o! events imme?iately preceding it. Little or nothing may be
added to this understanding from a dose scrutiny of the early devel-
opment of the person. 1
However, criminological explanations of the mechanistic type have
thus far been notably unsuccessful, perhaps largely because they have
bee,n formulated in connection willl an attempt to isolate personal and
SOCial pathologies among criminals. Work from this point of view has, at
least, resulted in the conclusion that the immediate determinants of
criminal behavior lie in the person-situation complex.
TIle objective situation is important to criminality largely to the ex-
tent that it. provides an opportunity for a criminal act. A thief may steal
from a frUlt stand when the owner is not in sight but refrain when the
OWner is in sight; a bank burglar may attack a bank which is poorly
~rotecte.d but refrain from attacking a well-protected bank. A COrpora-
tIOn which manufacturers automobiles seldom violates the pure food
m: d drug laws, but a meat-packing corporation might violate these laws
~lth great freq~enc~ B~t in another sense, a psychological or SOciolog-
ICal sense, the SItUatIOn IS not exclusive of the person, for the situation
which is important is the situation as defined by the person who is in-
volved. That is, same persons define a situation in which a fruit-stand
Owner is out of sight as a "crime-COmmitting" situation, while others do
not so define it. Furthermore, the events in the person-situation com-
plex ~t the time a crime occurs cannot be separated from the prior life
expenence~ of the criminal. This means that the situation is defined by
the person m terms of the inclinations and abilities which he or she has
acquired. For example, while a person could define a situation in such
a mar:ner that criminal behavior would be the inevitable result, past
expenences would, for the most part, determine the way in which he or
she defined the situation. An explanation of criminal behavior made
in terms of these past experiences is a historical or developmental ex-
planation.
, The follOWing paragraphs state such a development theory of crim-
mal behavlOr on the assumption that a criminal act occurs when a situ-
ation appropriate for it, as defined by the person, is present. The theory
should be regarded as tentative, and it should be tested by the factual
mfonnation presented in the later chapters and by all other factual in-
formation and theories which are applicable.
16. Edwin H. Sutherland and Donald R. Cressey 241
DEVELOPMENTAL EXPLANATION OF
CRIMINAL BEHAVlOR
TIle following statements refer to the p~ocess by which a particular per-
son comes to engage in criminal behavlOr:
1. CrimiJlal beltavior is learned. Negatively, this means t~at crimi-
nal behavior is not inherited, as such; also, th~ person w.ho 1~ not al-
ready trained in crime does not invent crimmal behavlOf, Just. a~ a
person does not make mechanical inventions unless he has had tranung
in mechanics. . '
2. Criminal beJzavior is learned in interaction with otlter persons 111 a
'This commumca
process of c01J1l1lunicatwlI. ' ti' on ,'s verbal in many respects
but includes also "the commW1ication of gestures_". . .
3. The principal part of the learning of criminal beha~tor occurs wlthm
intimate personal groups. Negatively, this means that the Impersonal agen-
cies of communication, such as movies and newspapers, play a rela-
tively unimportant part in the genesis of criminal b.eha:rior.
4. When criminal bel/avior is leamed, the learmng lItChl~eS (a) tech-
niques of cOJHmitting tile crime, which ~re sOllleti'~lCS verv colllpl!cate~~ S~11le­
times very simple; (b) the specific directl0l1 of 11l0tzves, drrves, rnttol1all~attol1S,
and attitudes. >t:; .•
5 The specific directioll of motives and drives is learned from deJ,mtlOlls
of the iegal codes as favorable or unfavor~ble. In s~me societies an individual
is surrounded by persons who invanably define the legal codes as rules
to be observed, while in others he is surrounded by persons whose d~­
finitions are favorable to the violation of the legal codes. In our Amen-
can society these definitions are almost alw~ys mixed, with the
consequence that we have culture conflict in relatlOn to the leg~l.codes.
6. A person becomes delinquent because of an exce~s of defil1ltlOlls f~­
vornble to violation of law over definitions 1lI1favorable to vlOlatton ~fl~w. Tlus
is the principle of differential association. It refers to both cnmmal and
anticrirninal associations and has to do with counteracting f~rces ..W?en
persons become criminal, they do so because ~f c.on.tact WIth cnrmnal
patterns and also because of isolation fro~ antlcrmunal patterns. Any
person inevitably assimilates the surroundmg culture unless other pat-
terns are in conflict; a southerner does not pronounce r ~~cause ~ther
southerners do not pronounce r. Negatively, this propOSItion of differ-
ential association means that associations which are neutral so. as fa.:
crime is concerned have little or no effect on the genesis of cnmmal
behavior. Much of the experience of a person is neutral in this sense,
242 Differential Association and Neutralization
for instance, learning to bLUsh one's teeth. lltis behavior has no negative
or positive effect on criminal behavior except a5 it may be related to as-
sociations which are concerned with the legal codes.This neutral be-
havior is important especially as an occupier of the time of a child so that
he Of she is not in contact with criminal behavior during the time the
child is so engaged in the neutral behavior.
7. Differential associatiolls may vary ill frequency, duration, priority,
and illtmsihj. TItis means that associations with criminal behavior and
also associations with anticriminal behavior vary in those respects. Fre-
quency and duration as modalities of associations are obvious and need
no explanation. Priority is assumed to be important in the sense that
lawful behavior developed in early childhood may persist throughout
life, and also that delinquent behavior developed in early childhood
may persist throughout life. TIus tendency, however, has not been ade-
quately demonstrated, and priority seems to be important principally
through its selective influence. Intensity; is not precisely defined, but it
has to do with such things as the prestige of the source of a criminal or
anticriminal pattern and with emotional reactions related to the associ-
ations. In a precise description of the criminal behavior of a person, these
modalities would be rated in quantitative form and a mathematical ratio
would be reached. A formula in this sense has not been developed, and
the development of such a formula would be extremely difficult.
8. The process of learning c11mi11al behaviar by association witl! criminal
and [lnticri11lilla[ pattems involves all of the l1lec/umis11Is that are involved in
any other Ieaming. Negatively, this means that the learning of criminal be-
havior is not restricted to the process of imitation. A person who is se-
duced, for instance, learns criminal behavior by association, but this
process would not ordinarily be described as imitation.
9. W1lile crintil1ai belIavior is an expressiol1 of general needs and values,
it is not explained by those gel1cml needs and values, since lloHcriminal be-
havior is an expression of the same needs and values. Thieves generally steal
in order to secure money, but likewise honest laborers work in order to
secure money. The attempts by many scholars to explain criminal be-
havior by general drives and values, such as the happiness principle,
striving for social status, the money motive, or frustration, have been,
and must continue to be, futile, since they explain lawful behavior as
completely as they explain criminal behavior. They are similar to respi-
ration, which is necessary for any behavior, but which does not differ-
entiate criminal from noncriminal behavior.
It is not necess~ at this level of explanation, to explain why per-
sons have the associations they have; this certainly involves a complex
ot many things. In an area where the delinquency ra te is high, a boy
16. Edwm n. ;JUCH'-~ .... __
who is sociable, gregarious, active, and athletic is very likely to come
in contact with the other boys in the neighborhood, learn delinquent
behavior patterns from them, and become a criminal; in the same neigh-
borhood the psychopathic boy who is isolated, introverted, and inert
may remain at home, not become acquainted with the other boys in the
neighborhood, and not become delinquent. In another situation, the so-
ciable, athletic, aggressive boy may become a member of a scout troop
and not become involved in delinquent behavior. The person's associa-
tions are determined in a general context of social organization. A child
is ordinarily reared in a family; the place of residence of the family is de-
termined largely by family income; and the delinquency rate is in many
respects related to the rental value of the houses. Many other aspects of
social organization affect the associations of a person.
The preceding explanation of criminal behavior purports to explain
the criminal and noncriminal behavior of individual persons. As indi-
cated earlier, it is pOSSible to state sociological theories of criminal be-
havior which explain the criminality of a community, nation, or other
group. The problem, when thus stated, is to account for variations in
crime rates, which involves a comparison of the crime rates of various
groups or the crime rates of a particular group at different times. The ex-
planation of a crime rate must be consistent with the explanation of the
crimul.al behavior ot the person, since the crime rate is a summary state-
ment of the number ot persons in the group who commit crimes and
the frequency with which they commit crimes. One of the best explan~­
tions of crime rates from this point of view is that a high crime rate IS
due to social disorganization. The term social disorganizatioll is not en-
tirely satisfactorily, and it seems preferable to substitute for it the term
differmtial social orga11ization. TIl.e postulate on which this theory is based,
regardless of the name, is that crime is rooted in the social organization
and is an expression of that social organization. A group may be orga-
nized for criminal behavior or organized against criminal behavior. Most
communities are organized for both criminal and anticriminal behav-
ior, and, in that sense, the crime rate is an expression of the differential
group organization. Differential group organization as an explanation of
variations in crime rates is consistent with the differential association
theory of the processes by which persons become criminals.
NOTE
L Don C Gibbons, "Observations on the Study of Crime Causation," Ameri-
can Journal of Socio[ogtj, 77:262-78, 1971.
 244 Differential Association and Neutralization
17 Other People's Money
DONALD R. CRESSEY
THE VIOLATORS' VOCABULARIES OF ADJUSTMENT
After a trusted person has defined a problem as non-shareable th
total ~ertinent situation consists of a problem which must be soive~
by an mdepe~de~tl secret,. and relatively safe means by virtue of gen-
eral and technical information about trust violation. In this situation the
potential.trus~ viol~tor id~~tifies the possibilities for resolving the prob-
lem by VlOlating his posItion of trust and defines the relationship be-
tw~en the non-s~areable problem and the illegal solution in language
w~c.h enables h~ ~o. look upon trust violation (aj as essentially non-
cnmmal, (b) as JustifIed, or (c) as a part of a general irresponsibility
for which he is not completely accountable. The total identifying and
definm? process was considered in the last chapter as being equal to
percep~lOn of the .objective fact that the position of trust offers an op-
por~ruty for solvmg the problem. The term "rationalization" has been
applIed to the last phase, and it is vrith this process that we are Con-
cerned in this chapter.
We began using the "rationalization" terminology when it was dis-
covered that the application of certain key verbalizations to his conduct
enables the trusted person to "adjust" his conceptions of himself as a
trusted person with rus conceptions of himself as a user of entrusted
~ds for solving a non-shareable problem, but the use of the term in
~ w~y is not in kee~ing -with popular usage or -with usage by some so-
clOloglStS: psychologIsts, and psychiatrists. An ordinary definition of
the term mdlcates that rationalizatil;m takes place after the specific be-
havioral item in question has occurred. One buys an automobile and
then :'rationalizes" that he needs it because his health is poor. The notion
here IS that of an ex post facto justification for behavior which "has real-
ly been prompted by deeply hidden motives and unconscious tenden-
cie~.lfl But the term is ~so used to refer to a process of finding some
lOgIcal excuse fo rquestionable behavior tendencies, 2 for thoughts as
well as acts,3 and for decisions to perform an act. 4
In addition, a rationalization has been considered as a verbalization
whi:h purports to make the person's behavior more intelligible to oth-
ers In terms of symbols currently employed by his group.' It follows
Reprinted from Other People's MOlley: A Study ill till! 50cinl PsychOlogy of Embe:z:::.1t:lJ!eJJt by
Donald R Cressey. © 1971 by Donald R. Cressey Estate.
.1-1. ~~ •• __
from this kind of definition that the person may prepare his rational-
ization before he acts, or he may act first and rationalize afterward. In
the cases of trust violation encountered significant rationalizations were
always present before the criminal act took place, or at least at the time it
took place, and, in fact, after the act had taken place the rationalization
often was abandoned. If this observation were generalized to other be-
havior we would not say that an individual "buys an automobile and
then rationalizes," as in the example above, but that he buys the car be-
cause he is able to rationalize. The rationalization is his motivation, 6
and it not only makes his behavior intelligible to others, but it makes it
intelligible to himself.
Davis has used the term in this way in saying that "probably the
simplest way of giving expression to unacceptable desires and of trying
to avoid guilt feelings is to think up a good reason (i.e., one sanctioned
in the social group by a moral evaluation higher than the one which
forbids the tabooed topic)."7 He gives as an example the case of a stu-
dent who thinks he "ought" to study for an examination but feels rus-
inclined to do so. Such a student may tell himself that he needs exercise
because exercise is ~ssential to health, and health is more important thar:t
passing an examination. He then goes out to play golf. His rationaliza-
tion, then, is necessary to the golf playing, not an excuse or an ex post
facto justification for it. In this sense, a rationalization is an aspect of a
logic which is an adjustlve device, which serves the interests of contra-
dictory ideas of "oughtness" or morality, and it is in this sense that we
use the term.
On the present level of explanation, systematic causation, it is suffi-
cient to indicate the presence or absence of a rationalization which, to-
gether with the knowledge that the position of trust can be violated,
enables the person to perceive that the desired results may be produced
by violation of the position of trust. The trusted person either uses such
a rationalization or he does not. The essential point is that the person
must perceive his position of trust as offering an opportunity for such vi-
olation, and that such perception, which involves the use of a rational-
ization, is a part of a process which begins with the structuring of a
problem as non-shareable and ends with the criminal violation of fi-
nancial trust. However, as indicated previously, a discussion of ratio-
nalizations used in trust violation is not entirely separable from
discussion of the sources of those rationalizations.
In our hypoJhesis we have observed that one phase of the process
which results in trust violation is the application, to the trusted per-
son's O'Wl1 conduct, of language categories which enable him to adjust
two rather conflicting sets of values and behavior patterns. But such
246 Differential Association and Neutralization
verbalizations necessarily are impressed upon the person by other per-
sons who have had prior experience with situations involving positions
of trust and trust violation. Before they are internalized by the individ_
ual they exist as group definitions of situations in which crime is "ap-
propriate." Contacts VV1th such definitions obviously are necessary prior
to their internalization as rationalizations. The following propositions,
for example, are ideal-type definitions of situations in which trust vio-
lation is called for and which, hence, amount to ideologies which sanc-
tion the crime: "Some of our most respectable citizens got their start in
life by using other people's money temporarilyl/;B "In the real estate
business there is nothing wrong about using deposits before the deal is
closed"; "All people steal when they get in a tight spot."
The following propositions are the personalized versions of those
definitions after they have been assimilated and internalized by an in-
dividual: "My intent is on1y to use this money temporarily so I am 'bor-
rowing', not 'stealing'l/; "My irrunediate use of real estate deposits is
'ordinary business"'; "I have been trying to live an honest life but I
have had nothing but troubles so 'to hen with it'." The individual in a
~pecific, present, situation uses such rationalizations in the adjustment
of personal conflicting values, but the use of the verbalization in this
way is necessarily preceded by observations of rather general criminal
ideologies.
\rYe see then that, having general infoffilation about trust violation
and about the conditions under which trust violation occurs, the trust vi-
olator, upon the appearance of the non-shareable problem, applies to
his own situation a rationalization which the groups in which he has
had membership have applied to the behavior of others, and which he
himself has applied to the behavior of others. He perceives that the gen-
eral rule applies to his specific case. Such an application to himself of the
symbols held by the members of his groups has been described by Mead
as taking the role of the "generalized other."9 Thus, the imagination of
how he appears to others, and of how he would appear if his non-share-
able problem were revealed to others is a controlling "force" in the be-
havior of the trusted person.
In a "non-shareable-problem-position-of-trust" situation trusted
persons "objectify" their own actions to the extent that they place them-
selves in the place of another person or group of persons with the status
of "trustee" and hypothesize their reactions. The hypothesized reactions
to "borrowing" in order to solve a non-shareable problem, for example,
are much different from hypothesized reactions to "stealing," and the
trusted person behaves accordirudv, Similarlv. the hvnnthp~i7Prl rp;\r_
tions to a conception of self as an "ill" person or as a "~.)[essed" ~erson
have different implications for behavior than hypotheslZed reactions to
a conception se as a ""I"lU
. 0 flf cnrruna.
It is because of hypotheSized reactions which do not consistently
and severely condemn his criminal behavior that the trusted person
takes the role of what we have called the "trust violator,//l1 He often does
not think of himself as playing that r61e, but often thinks of himself as
playing a role such as that of a special kind of "bo~Tower/' "business-
man," or even "thief." In order to do so, he necessarily must have come
into contact with a culture which defined those roles for him. If the roles
were defined differently in his culture, or if he had not come into contact
with the group definitions, he would behave differently.
The rationalizations used by trust violators, then, reflect contacts
with cultural ideologies which themselves are contradictory to the
theme that honesty is expected in alisituations of trust. 12 When used by
the individual, such ideologies adjust contradictory personal values in
regard to criminality on the one hand and integrity, honesty and m~~al­
ity on the other. IS Law-enforcement officials and judges do not offiCIal-
ly recognize such cultural contradictions, and in individual cases they
hotd that trust violation perpetrated according to a rationalization de-
rived from such an ideology is not for that reason" excuseable." Trust-
ed persons with non-shareable problems utilize rationalizations in
order to select means, which otherwise would not be available to them,
for solving those problerns,14 While the selection of means is recog-
nized by the crimina11aw, most of the conditions under which such ra-
tionalizations are used do not constitute "necessity" according to the
legal definitions, and hence they are not considered as sufficient for
avoidance of legalliability,15 The circumstances illlder which the selec-
tions are made are sufficient, however, to explain theoretically why an
individual criminally violates his trust rather than behaving in some
other manner, even i1 those circumstances do not "excuse" him from
legal Uability.
Rather than "discovering" trust violation as a solution when non-
shareable problems were present, the trust violators interviewed "re_
discovered" culturally provided verbalizations which sanction violation
and applied these verbalizations to their own conduct. But whether the
process is called discovery or rediscovery, the existence of ,a culture
which supplies the necessary sanctions is presupposed, as IS contact
with these aspects of culture by the trusted person.
 248 Differential Association and Neutralization
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS
1. TIle rationalizations which are used by trust violators are nec-
essary and essential to criminal violation of trust. TIley are not merely ex
post facto justifications for conduct which already has been enacted, but
are pertinent and real IIreasons" which the person has for acting. When
the relationship between a personal non-shareable problem and the po-
sition of trust is perceived according to the bias induced by the pres-
ence of a rationalization which makes trust violation in some way
justified, trust violation results.
2. Each trusted person does not invent a new rationalization for
his violation of mIst, but instead he applies to his own situation a ver-
balization which has been made available to him by virtue of his having
come into contact with a culture in which such verbalizations are pre-
sent. Cultural ideologies which sanction trust violation are in basic con-
tradiction to ideologies which hold non-violation as the norm, and in
trust violation the trusted person applies a general rule to his specific
case.
3. The rationalizations used in trust violation are linked with the
manner in which the trust is violated and to some extent with the social
and economic position of the offender. A large majority of the indepen-
dent businessmen and trusted employees who take funds over a period
of time apply to a situation in which a non-shareable problem is present
the rationalization that they are merely borrowing the funds. The appli-
cation of this rationalization has obvious implications for the behavior of
the person using it, since he considers that he is playing the role of the
borrower rather than of the trust violator. When other rationalizations
are used, the person behaves accordingly. Frequently it is necessary for an
individual to abandon the rationalizations which he has been using, and
when this occurs he looks upon himself as a criminaL Trusted persons
who abscond with the funds or property entrusted to them have previ-
ously perceived the relationship betw'een the pOSition of trust and non-
shareable problem according to a rationalization which mal(es cultural
ideals in regard to honesty and "responsibility" ineffective. 'This ratio-
nalization is of such a nature that the individual looks upon his role in vi-
olation as that of a criminal, but he thinks of himself as a special kind of
"thief" ratller than as a "borrower," "embezzler," or "trust violator."
NOTES
1. A. P. Noyes, Modem Clinical Psychiatry (Philadelphia: W. B. Saunders,
1940), p. 49, Cj. R. S. Woodworth. Psuc1wlnt,T11 (NpUT y ....... t-. l-l ............ U_h
Co., 1940), p. 537: "The question is what reason to assign for an act"; i.U1d
F. L. Ruch, Psychology alld Life (~hicago: Sc~tt, Fore~m~n & Co., 1941), p.
181: liThe ascribing of false motives to one s behaVlOr. .
T. W. Richards, Modem Clinical Psyc/lO/oGY (New York: McGraw-Hill,
2.
1946), p. 84. . .F 5 C f &
1(. Young, Pel's01wlihj alld Problems of Adjustment (New York: . . ro ts
3.
Co., 1946), p. 122 . .
4. R. T. LaPiere and P. R. Fnrnsworth, Socwl PsycllOlogy (New York. Mc-
Graw-Hill, 1949), p. 13. d
5. A
. R. Lindesmith and A. L. Strauss, Social Psychology (New York: Dry en
Prcss, 1949), p. 308. . ' "
·, C W' ht"Mills "Situated Actions and Vocabulanes of Motive,
6. C,. . ng , 0 913
AmericaJ1 Sociological Review, 5 (December, 1940), 9. 4- .
7. Kingsley Davis. Humall Sociehj (New Yorkj: ~aonlj\Umh' 1949\), ;:;~d in as
267-268. In his discussion of the specific t lmgs.w llC are en ~
sociation with criminal and anti-criminal beh~vlOr patterns, Sutherland
apparently uses the term rationalization in tl:rs
sa~e ~ens~, to re~er to an
evaluation of criminal behavior. That is, a ratlOnalization 1S c?nsldered as
·valent to an attitude about the "oughtness" of the behavlOr as con-
~;~ed by the person. E. H. Sutherland, Principles of Crimill%gy (New
York: Lippincott, 1947), p. 6. .
CfAlexander Dumas, TIlE Money Question, ~ English translation of . _
8. ~hich appears in Poet Lore, 26 (M~rch-Ap~l, 1915), pp. 1:9-227, espeC1al
ly Act I~: "What is business? Thal s easy. It 5 other people 5 money, of
course. f th S' nifi t Symbol"
9. George H. Mead, /lA Behavioristic Account 0 e 19 can. 'd
fOl!rlw/ of Philosophy, 19 (March, 1922), 157-163. See also his Mwd, Self all
SociehJ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1934) pp. 135-226.
10. Although it was not in any way checked by ~er. re5~arch, Redden o~e;,s
the following hypothesis, based on Mead's d15tinction betw"e~ th~ I
d the "me" about the role-taking behavior of embezzlers. In his re-
:-axsal of co~sequence5 in the process of taking the role. of another he
[the embezzler] fails to integrate himself with the orgaruz~d pattern of
apIJroved social behavior. He fails or r~fuses to try to dev15.e a plan by re-
flective thinking which will increase h15 va~ue to the orgaruza~on.and
call forth recognition in terms of increased mcome. Thwart:d 1~ hiS. at-
tempt or impatient of the duration of tim~ ~ec:ssary to fuUill h15 wlsh on
the socially desirable level, his mental actiVIty 15 centered o~ a plan of
borrowing, converting his employer's goo~ o~ money to his own use, to
fu1fill the wish for a margin above tl1.e equ1~bnum of.mcome and cost of
living to satisfy some latent desire in a mimrnum of time. He completes
the act hypothetically, taldng the rOle of another but contr~ to .the com-
mon organized pattern of social behavior in business relahonslup~ and
in the social group. His hypothetical solution maybe a new ~ecl:ruque or
method which if discovered by the employer would mean du::~s~l .
from his employ and community disapproval. His mental actiV1ty 15 ID
C
 250 Differential Association and NelltraiiZiltlon
aspects of the self of the embezzler ilre in conflict, the sodal or imperson-
al self integrates the hypothetical act with the organized social behavior
of the group by naming the act resulting from the proposed plan borrow~
fig, Wi~l int::nt to ~eplace Or repay; the other aspect of self, the personal
or a~sOCla1, VIews his plan as opposed 10 organized social behavior, inde-
pendent of the group and unknown to the group." Elizabeth Redden,
EmbezzJeJJJeJtt, A Study of Om: Killd of Crimilia I Bclinvior, With Prediction Ta-
bles Based 011 Fidelity IlIsurance Records, Ph.D. Djssertation, University of
Chicago, 1939, pp. 27-29.
11. In this connection, we shall see Jater tilat when the long-term violator
lv-ho has convinced himself that he is a "borrower" decides that he is "in
loo deep" the atlil:udes of his group toward "embezzlement" and
"crime" can no longer be avoided, and ills behavior takes on the charac~
teristics of the role which he then conceives of himself as playing. Simi-
larly, We shall see that while there exists in most groups in our culture a
rather general condemnation of "'trust violation" or "stealing" this con-
demnation 1S not as general when the "mitigating circumstances" are
known: That is, some categories of criminal behavior arE,'! not as severely
or consl5tently condemned as others. The trust violator behaves accord-
ing to the cultural definitions of Ulose categories.
12. "Y\fhen rationalizations are extensively developed and systematized as
grouf doctrines and belicis, they are known as ideologies, As such, they
acqurre unusual prestige and authOrity. The person who uses them has
!:h~ s~nse of confOrming to group expectations, of doing the 'right
Hung .. ,. Unscrupulous and sometimes criminal behavior in business
a~d industry is justified in terms of an argmnent Which begins and ends
WIth the assertion that 'business is business.' ... The principal advantage
?f group rati?nal~ations or ideOlOgies, from the individual's standpoint,
IS. that ~ley give him a sense of support and sanction. They help him to
Vlew himself and his activities in a favorable light and to maintain his
s~lf-esteem and self-respect." A R Lindesmith and A. L Strauss, op.
CIf.,pp. 309-310. Reproduced by permission of the publisher.
13. In a letter of the auilior even an official of a bonding l:'ompany differenti-
ated between "embezzlers" and "crooks" by saying: '~ctually the aver-
age embezzler is no more crook than you or 1. As a result of
circumstances, he finds himself in some position where, with no criminal
intent, he 'borrows' from his employer. One circumstance leads to anoth-
er.and it ~ only a matter of time before he is discovered and disd1arged
With or WlthOUt prosecution."
14. The fact that trust violators use rationaJizatioTIs does not mean, of course,
that they are more "rational" than other persons, or that they carefully
weigh and consider the advantages and disadvantages of trust violation
in an objective, carefut precise manner. The use of the rationalization
makes this unnecessary, and once the trusted person has rationalized the
violation of his trust it is impOSSible for him to be concerned with the
question of whether the rationalization is a "good" one.
Probably it was the observation of this sort of thing which led Lottier
to the formulation of that part of his theory which holds that in cases of
j
embezzlement U,ere is "no subjectively available alternative" to embez-
zlement. S. Lottier, "Tension Theory of Criminal Behavior:' Amerirmt So~
ciological Review, 7 (December, 1942), 840-848. Our analysis also can be
j
con.sidered as a detailed consideration of Riemer's general statement that
the opportunities presented through occupancy of a position of trust
form a "temptation" is the embezzler develops an "anti~sodal attitude"
j
wh.ich makes possible the abandonment of the folk-ways of legitima.te
business behavior. Svend Riemer, "Embezzlement Pailiologica18asis,"
JOlll7lni of Criminai Law a/ld Criminology, 32 (November-December, 1941),
j
411-423. As shall be shown later, however, most of the trust violators en-
countered did not 50 much abandon the folk-ways of legitimate business
behavior as they did re-structure the situation in such a way that, from
j
their point of view, Uley were /lot abandoning such foll(~ways. Similarly,
except for absconders, the attitudes of the men interviewed were not so
much ".anti~sodal" as they were "pro-sodal" in that the endeavor was to
j
keep from considering themselves as criminals.
15. Jerome Hall, Prillciple.s of CrimiJlfll Law (IndianapoHs: Bobb5~Merril!,
1947), pp. 415-426. j
j
18 Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency
GRESHAM M. SYKES and DAVlD MATZA j
In attempting to uncover the roots of juvenile delinquency, the social
scientist has long since ceased to search for devils in the mind or stigma
of the body. It is now largely agreed that delinquent behavior, like most j
social behavior, is learned and that it is learned in the process of social
interaction.
The classic statement of this position is found in Sutherland's theo-
j
ry of differential association, which asserts that criminal or delinquent
behavior involves the learning of (a) techniques of committing crimes
and (b) motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes favorable to the
j
violation of lawl Unfortunately, the specific content of what is learned-
as opposed to the process by which it is learned-has received relative-
ly little attention in either theory or research. Perhaps the single strongest
j
school of thought on the nature of this content has centered on the ldea
of a delinquent sub-culture. The basic characteristic of.tlle delinquent
sub-culture, it is argued, is a system of values that represents an mver-
j
sion of the values held by respectable, law-abiding society. The world of
j
Reprinted from Gresharn M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neutralization: A
Thporv nf Of'linoIJPncv." AUlf.!ricflJr 5acialo"dClI! Review, val. '12 (19S7), pp. 664-670.
j
j
j
j
254 Differential Association and Neutralization
The fact that a child is punished by parents, school officials, and
agencies of the legal system for !Us delinquency may, as a number of
observers have cynically noted, suggest to the child that he should be
more careful not to get caught. There is an equal or greater probability,
however, that the child will internalize the demands for conformity. 1his
is not to say that demands for conformity cannot be counteracted. In
fact, a5 we shall see shortly, an understanding of how internal and ex-
ternal demands for conformity are neutralized may be crucial for un-
derstanding delinquent behavior. But it is to say that a complete denial
of the validity of demands for conformity and the substitution of a new
normative system is improbable, in light of the child's or adolescent's
dependency on adults and encirclement by adults inherent in his status
in the social structure. No matter how deeply enmeshed in patterns of
delinquency he may be and no-matter how much this involvement may
outweigh his associations with the law-abiding, he cannot escape the
condemnation of his deviance. Somehow the demands for conformity
must be met and answered; they cannot be ignored as part of an alien
system of values and norms.
In short, the theoretical viewpoint that sees juvenile delinquency as
a form of behavior based on the values and norms of a deviant subcul-
lure in precisely the same way as law-abiding behavior is based on the
values and norms of the larger society is open to serious doubt. The fact
that the world of the delinquent is embedded in the larger world of
those who conform cannot be overlooked nor can the delinquent be
equated with an adult thoroughly socialized into an alternative way of
life. Instead, the juvenile delinquent would appear to be at least par-
tially committed to the dominant social order in that he frequently ex-
hibits guilt or shame when he violates its prescriptions, accords approval
to certain conforming figures, and distinguishes between appropriate
and inappropriate targets for his deviance. It is to an explanation for
the apparently paradoxical fact of his delinquency that we now turn.
AB Morris Co hen once said, one of the most fascinating problems
about human behavior is why men violate the laws in which they be-
lieve. This is the problem that confronts us when we attempt to explain
why delinquency occurs despite a greater or lesser commitment to the
usages of conformity. A basic clue is offered by the fact that social rules
or norms calling for valued behavior seldom if ever take the form of
categorical imperatives. Rather, values or norms appear as qllalified
guides for action, limited in their applicability in terms of time, place,
persons, and social circumstances. TIle moral injunction against killing,
for example, does not apply to the enemy during combat in time of war,
although a captured enemy comes once again under the prohibition.
Similarly, the takIDg and distributing of scarce p"oorls in ;1 tin'lP nf ;lrl1to
18. Gresham M. Sykes and David Malza 255
social need is felt by many to be right, although under other circum-
stances private property is held inviolable. The normativ~ ~J:'ste~ of a
society, then, is marked by what Williarns has termedflmbdlly; lt do;s
not cO!l5ist of a body of rules held to be bmdmg under all condltions.
11us flexibility is, in fact, an integral part of the crirninallaw in that
measures for "defenses to crimes" are provided in pleas such as non-age,
necessity, insanity, drunkenness, compulsion, self-defense, and so on.
The individual can avoid moral culpability for his criminal action-and
thus avoid the negative sanctions of society-if he can prove that crim-
inal intent was k'lcking. It is our argument tllat much delinquency is based on
what is essentially (Ill unrecognized extension of defel1ses to crimes, ill the form
of justifications for deviallce tlwt are seen as valid by tlle deliJ1quent but not by
the legal system or society at large.
These justifications are commonly described as rationalizations.
They are viewed as following deviant behavior and as protecting the
individual from self-blame and the blame of others after the act. But
there is also reason to believe that they precede deviant behavior and
make deviant behavior possible. It is this possibility tha t Sutherland
mentioned only in passing and that other writers have failed to exploit
from the viewpoint of sociological theory. Disapproval flowing from in-
ternalized norrn.s and conforming others in the social environment is
neutralized, turned back, or deflected in advance. Social controls that
serve to check or inhibit deviant motivational patterns are rendered in-
operative, and the individual is freed to engage in delinquency with-
out serious damage to his self image. In this sensel the delinquent both
has his cake and eats it too, for he remains committed to the dominant
normative system and yet so qualifies its imperatives that violations are
"acceptable" if not "right." Thus the delinquent represents not a radical
opposition to law-abiding society but something more like an apolo-
getic failure, often more sinned against than sinning in his own eyes.
We call these justifications of deviant behavior techniques of neutral-
ization; and we believe these techniques make up a crucial component of
Sutherland's "definitio!l5 favorable to the violation of law." It is by learn-
ing these techniques that the juvenile becomes delinquent, rather than
by learning moral imperatives, values or attitudes standing in direct
contradiction to those of the dominant society. In analyzing these tech-
niques, we have found it convenient to divide them into five major
types.
THE DENIAL OF RESPONSIBILITY
In so far as tlle delinquent can define himself as lackIng responsibility for
l' 1 • • .' .1 ,. 1 r 'r .1 ., , , ,
256 Differential Association and Neutralization
in effectiveness as a restraining influence. As Justice Holmes has said,
even a dog distinguishes between being stumbled over and being
kicked, and modern society is no less careful to draw a line between in-
juries that are unintentional, i.e., where responsibility is lacking, and
those that are intentionaL As a technique of neutralization, however,
the denial of responsibility extends much further than the claim that
deviant acts are an "accident" or some similar negation of personal ac-
countability. It may also be asserted that delinquent acts are due to forces
outside of the individual and beyond his control such as unloving par-
ents, bad companions, or a slum neighborhood. In effect, the delinquent
approaches a "billiard ball" conception of himself in which he sees him-
self as helplessly propelled into new situations. From a psychodynamic
viewpoint, this orientation toward one's own actions may represent a
profound alienation from self, but it is important to stress the fact that in-
terpretations of responsibility are cultural constructs and not merely
idiosyncratic beliefs. The similarity between this mode of justifying il-
legal behavior assumed by the delinquent and the implications of a "so-
ciological" frame of reference or a "humane" jurisprudence is readily
apparent.8 It is not the validity of this orientation that concerns us here,
but its function of deflecting blame attached to violations of social norms
and its relative independence of a particular personality structure. 9 By
learning to view himself as more acted upon than acting, the delinquent
prepares the way for deviance from the dominant normative system
without the necessity of a frontal assault on the norms themselves.
THE DENIAL OF INJURY
A second major technique of neutralization centers on the injury or harm
involved in the delinquent act. The criminal law has long made a dis-
tinction between crimes which are mala in se and mala prohibita-that is
between acts that are wrong in themselves and acts that are illegal but
not immoral-and the delinquent can make the same kind of distinction
in evaluating the wrongfulness of his behavior. For the delinquent, how-
ever, wrongfulness may turn on the question of whether or not anyone
has clearly been hurt by his deviance, and this matter is open to a vari-
ety of interpretations. Vandalism, for example, may be defined by the
delinquent simply as "mischief" -after all, it may be claimed, the per-
sons whose property has been destroyed can well afford it. Similarly,
auto theft may be viewed as "borrowing," and gang fighting may be
seen as a private quarrel, an agreed upon dual betvveen two willing par-
ties, and thus of no concern to the community at large. We are not sug-
gesting that this technique of neutralization, labelled the denial of injury,
;""nl"",<o ':In "" ........ 1; ... ;;. ..:I; .... l ....... h ... D~.J.l~ ......... ~
18. Gresharn M. Sykes and David Matza 257
frequently, and in a hazy fashion, feels that his behavior does not really
cause any great harm despite the fact that it runs counter to law. Just as
U,e link between the individual and his acts may be broken by the denial
of responsibility, so may the link betvveen acts and their consequences be
broken by the denial of injury. Since society sometimes agrees with the
delinquent, e.g., in matters such as truancy, "pranks," and so on, it mere-
ly reaffirms the idea that the delinquent's neutralization of social con-
trols by means of qualifying the norms is an extension of common
practice rather than a gesture of complete opposition.
THE DENIAL OF THE VICTIM
Even if the delinquent accepts the responsibility for his deviant actions
and is willing to admit that his deviant actions involve an injury or hurt,
the moral indignation of self and others may be neutralized by an in-
sistence that the injury is not wrong in light of the circumstances. The in-
jury, it may be claimed, is not really an injury; rather, it is a form of
rightful retaliation or punishment. By a subtle alchemy the delinquent
moves himself into the position of an avenger and the victim is trans-
formed into a wrong-doer. Assaults on homosexuals or suspected ho-
mosexuals, attacks on members of minority groups who are said to have
gotten "out of place," vandalism as revenge on an unfair teacher or
school official, thefts from a "crooked" store owner-all may be hurts in-
flicted on a transgressor, in the eyes of the delinquent. As Orwell has
pointed out, the type of criminal admired by the general public has
probably changed over the course of years and Raffles no longer serves
as a hero;lO but Robin Hood, and his latter day derivatives such as the
tough detective seeking justice outside the law, still capture the popular
imagination, and the delinquent may view his acts as part of a similar
role.
To deny the existence of the victim, then, by transforming him into
a person deserving of injury is an extreme form of a phenomenon we
have mentioned before, namely, the delinquent's recognition of appro-
priate and inappropriate targets for his delinquent acts. In addition,
however, the existence of the victim may be denied for the delinquent, in
a somewhat different sense, by the circumstances of the delinquent act it-
self. Insofar as the victim is physically absent, unknown, or a vague ab-
straction (as is often the cas'e in delinquent acts committed against
property), the awareness of the victim's existence is weal<ened. Inter-
nalized norms and anticipations of the reactions of others must some-
how be activated, if they are to serve as guides for behavior; and it is
pOSSible, that adiminished awareness of the victim plays an important
...... ~ .... __ .:_~ 1.1..._.1. .1.1.. .... .J_l!_ ...... _-'-
I'
I'
! 258 Differential Association and Neutralization
THE CONDEMNATION OF THE CONDEMNERS
A fourth technique of neutralization would appear to involve a con-
demnation of the condemners or, as McCorkle and Korn have phrased it,
a rejection of the rejectors.I1 The delinquent shifts the focus of attention
from his own deviant acts to the motives and behavior of those who
disapprove of his violations. His condemners, he may claim, are hyp-
ocrites, deviants in disguise, or impelled by personal spite. This orien-
tation toward the conforming world may be of particular importance
when it hardens into a bitter cynicism directed against those assigned
the task of enforcing or expressing the norms of the dominant society.
Police, it may be said, are corrupt, stupid, and brutal. Teachers always
s~ow £avori~sm and parents always "take it out" on their children. Bya
slIght extensIOn, the rewards of conformity-such as material success-
become a matter of pull or luck, thus decreasing still further the stature
of those who stand on the side of the Iawabicling. The validity of this
jaundiced viewpoint is not so important as its function in turning back
or deflecting the negative sanctions attached to violations of the norms.
The delinquent, in effect, has changed the subject of the conversation
in the dialogue between his own deviant impulses and the reactions of
others; and by attacking others, the wrongfulness of this own behavior
is more easily repressed or lost to view.
THE ApPEAL TO HIGHER LOYALTIES
Fifth, and last, internal and external social controls may be neutralized
by sacrificing the demands of the larger society for the demands of the
smaller social groups to which the delinquent belongs such as the sibling
parr, the gang, or the friendship clique. It is important to note that the
delinquent does not necessarily repudiate the imperatives of the domi-
nant normative system, despite his failure to follow them. Rather, the
delinquent may see himself as caught up in a dilemma that must be re-
solved, unfortunately, at the cost of violating the law. One aspect of this
situation has been studied by Stouffer and Toby in their research on the
conflict between particularistic and universalistic demands, between
the claims of friendship and general social obligations, and their results
s.uggest that "it is possible to classify people according to a predisposi-
tIOn to select one or the other horn of a dilemma in a role conflict." 12
For our purposes, however, the most important point is that deviation
from certain norms may occur not because the norms are rejected but be-
caUSe other norms, held to be more pressing or involving a higher loy-
alty, are accorded precedence. Indeed, it is the fact that both sets of
norms are believed in that gives meaning to our concepts of dilemma
and role conflict.
18. Greshaffi M. Sykes and David Matza 259
The conflict between the claims of friendship and the claims of law,
or a similar dilemma, has of course long been recognized by the social
scientist (and the novelist) as a common human problem. If the juve-
nile delinquent frequently resolves his dilemma by insisting that he
must "always help a buddy" or "never squeal on a friend," even when
it throws him into serious difficulties with the dominant social order,
his choice remains familiar to the supposedly law-abiding. The delin-
quent is unusual, perhaps, in the extent to which he is able to see the fact
that he acts in behalf of the smaller social groups to which he belongs as
a justification for violations of society's nOlUlS, but it is a matter of de-
gree rather than of kind.
"I didn't mean it." "1 didn't really hurt anybody." "They had it com-
ing to them." "Everybody's picking on me." "1 didn't do it for myself."
These slogans or their variants, we hypothesize, prepare the juvenile
for delinquent acts. These "definitions of the situation" represent tan-
gential or glancing blows at the dominant normative system rather than
the creation of an opposing ideology; and they are extensions of pat-
terns of thought prevalent in society rather than something created de
I1ovo.
Techniques of neutralization may not be powerful enough to fully
shield the individual from the force of his own internalized values and
the reactions of conforming others, for as we have pointed out, juvenile
delinquents often appear to suffer from feelings of guilt and shame
when called into account for their deviant behavior. And some delin-
quents may be so isolated from the world of conformity that tedmiques
of neutralization need not be called into play. Nonetheless, we would
argue that techniques of neutralization are critical in lessening the ef-
fectiveness of social controls and that they lie behind a large share of
delinquent behavior. Empirical research in this area is scattered and
fragmentary at the present time, but the work of Redl,B Cressey,14 and
others has supplied a body of significant data that has done much to
clarify the theoretical issues and enlarge the fund of supporting evi-
dence. Two lines of investigation seem to be critical at this stage. First,
there is need for more knowledge concerning the differential distribution
of techniques of neutralization, as operative patterns of thought, by age,
sex, social class, ethnic group, etc. On a priori grounds it might be as-
sumed that these justifications for deviance will be more readily seized
by segments of society for whom a discrepancy between common social
ideals and social practice is most apparent. It is also possible, however,
that the habit of "bending" the dominant normative system-if not
"breaking" it--cuts across our cruder social categories and is to be traced
primarily to patterns of social interaction within the familial circle. Sec-
1.1 • • ~
260 Differential Association and Neutralization
techniques of neutralization, as a system of beliefs and attitudes, and
its relationship to various types of delinquent behavior. Certain tech-
niques of neutralization would appear to be better adapted to particular
deviant acts then to others, as we have suggested, for example, in the
case of offenses against property and the denial of the victim. But the
issue remains far from clear and stands in need of more information.
In any case, techniques of neutralization appear to offer a promising
line of research in enlarging and systematizing the theoretical grasp of
juvenile delinquency. As more information is uncovered concerning
techniques of neutralization, their origins, and their consequences, both
juvenile delinquency in particular, and deviation from normative sys-
tems in general may be illuminated.
NOTES
1. E. H. Sutherland, Principles of Crimill%gt), revised by D. R. Cressey,
Chicago: Lippincott, 1955, pp. 77-80.
2. Albert K Cohen, Delinquellt Boys, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1955.
3. This form of reaction among the adherents of a deviant subculture who
fully believe in the "rightfulness" of their behavior and who are captured
and punished by the agencies of the dominant social order can be illus-
trated, perhaps, by groups such as Jehovah's Witnesses, early Christian
sects, nationalist movements in colonial areas, and conscientious objec-
tors during World Wars I and IT.
4. As Weber has pointed out, a thief may recognize the legitimacy of legal
rules without accepting their moral validity. Cf. Max Weber, The Theory of
Social alld Eco1lomic Organizatioll (translated by A. M. Henderson and Tal-
cott Parsons), New York: Oxford University Press, 1947, p. 125. We are ar-
guing here, however, that the juvenile delinquent frequently recognizes
both the legitimacy of the dominant social order and its moral "right-
ness."
5. Thrasher's account of the "Itschkies" ~l juvenile gang composed of
Jewish boys-and the immunity from "rolling" enjoyed by Jewish
drunkards is a good illustration. Cf. F. Thrasher, The Gallg, Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 1947, p. 315.
6. Cf. Solomon Kobrin, "The Conflict of Values in Delinquency Areas,"
American Sociological Review, 16 (October, 1951), pp. 653-661.
7. CL Robin Williams, Jr., American Society, New York: Knopf, 1951, p. 28.
8. A munber of observers have wryly noted that many delinquents seem to
show a surprising awareness of sociological and psychological explana-
tions for their behavior and are quick to point out tile causal role of their
poor environment.
9. It is pOSSible, of course, that certain personality structures can accept
some techniques of neutralization more readily tilan others, but this
19. Ross 1. Matsueda 261
10. George Orwell, Dickens, Dali, and OtllCI'S, New York: Reynal, 1946.
11. Lloyd W. McCorkle and Richard Korn, "Resocialization Witilin Walls,"
T1Je All1wls of the American Academy Of Political alld Social Science, 293,
(May, 1954), pp. 88-98.
12. See Samuel A. Stouffer and Jackson Toby, "Role Conflict and Personali-
ty," in Toward a GCllcral Theory of Actioll, edited by Takott Parsons and
Edward A. Shils, Cunbridge: Harvard University Press, 1951, p. 494.
13. See Fritz RedI and David Wineman, CltildrCll WIlo Hate, Glencoe: The Free
Press, 1956.
14. See D. R. Cressey, Other People's Money, Glencoe: The Free Press, 1953.
Analysis and Critique
19 The Current State of Differential Association Theory
ROSS L. MATSUEDA
Edwin Sutherland's (1939, 1947) differential association theory marked
a watershed in criminology. The theory was instrumental in bringing
the perspective of sociology to the forefront of criminology. Before then
criminological research and thought tended to be eclectic and unorga-
nized, lacking a general theoretical perspective to integrate findings
and guide research. TIrrough the years, differential association theory
has stimulated theoretical reHnements and revisions, empirical research,
and applications to programs and policy. The first two decades saw sev-
eral attempts to revise the theory to explain the origin and perSistence of
delinquent subcultures (Cohen, 1955; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960), to in-
cOlporate principles of symbolic interaction and role theory (Cressey,
1954; Glaser, 1956, 1960; Weinberg, 1966), and to incorporate socialleam-
ing principles Geffrey, 1965; Burgess and Akers, 1966: Akers, 1973). Dur-
ing the last decade, the trend of theoretical innovations has been
supplanted by two distinct trends. The first focuses on testing the theo-
ry: devising methods for operationalizing the theory's concepts, deriv-
ing hypotheses from its propositions, and subjecting those hypotheses to
empirical verification. The second entails rejecting the theory's principles
in favor of social control or integrated theories. This trend was original-
ly stimulated by Kornhauser's (1963) theoretical critique of differential
association theory, and Hirshi's (1969) empirical study supporting his so-
cial control theory.
 262 Differential Association and Neutralization
This article examines the current state of differential association the-
ory. It begins by reviewing the intellectual development of Sutherland's
theory. It then assesses the evolution of the empirical tests of the theo-
ry's propositions, as well as evaluating theoretical attempts to revise
those propositions. Next, it critically evaluates Kornhauser's (1978) cri-
tique and subsequent rejection of the theory's basic assumptions. Final-
ly, the article outlines directions for future research, arguing that the
most fruitful line of research is that which identifies the concrete his-
torical content of the theory's abstTact mechanisms, principles, and con-
cepts. Such research would have several payoffs: enriching and perhaps
modifying the theory's abstract principles, allowing the theory to make
concrete predictions, and suggesting ways of translating the theory into
public policy.
DEVELOPMENT OF DIFFERENTIAL
ASSOCIATION THEORY
Before Sutherland developed his criminological theory, the prevailing
explanation of crime was the multiple-factor approach. According to
this approach, criminal behavior is determined by a variety of concrete
conditions, such as mental disorders, broken homes, minority status,
age, social class, alcoholic parents, and inadequate socialization. Such an
explanation has the virtue of being multidisciplinary and open-minded,
but the weakness of being eclectic and unparsimonious. In 1933, Michael
and Adler (1971) published a stinging criticism of the discipline of crim-
inology, arguing that criminology had produced no valid scientific gen-
eralizations, had used unscientific methods, and, therefore, needed to be
replaced by a panel of scientists from other disciplines. Sutherland's re-
action to this report, combined with his growing dissatisfaction with
the nonscientific multiple-factor explanation, provoked him to develop
both a rigorous definition of an adequate causal explanation (Suther-
land, 1973b, Hirschi and Gottfredson, 1979), as well as an attempt to de-
velop a scientific generalization that met those requisites (Cressey, 1979).
Sutherland (1973b) argued that the multiple-factor approach yield-
ed a hodgepodge of unorganized factors associated with crime, and
thus failed to provide a scientific understanding of criminal behavior. A
scientific generalization, he maintained, should provide a necessary and
sufficient explanation of crime, identifying those conditions that are al-
ways present when crime is present and always absent when crime is
absent. Furthermore, he suggested treating concrete correlates, such as
broken homes, race, sex, and social class, not as causes in and of them-
19. Ross 1. Matsuedn 263
For example, race and sex cannot by themselves explain crime, since
some black males refrain from crimes and some white females commit
crimes. What is needed, then, for both understanding and controlling
crime is set of interrelated propositions that together explain all of the
observed correlates of crime.
To arrive at such a generalization, Sutherland proposed three meth-
ods. TI,e first, which he called "lOgical abstraction," calls for logically ab-
stracting from those concrete conditions knOVVTl to correlate with crime
to general abstract propositions and universal mechanisms. He asked
what blacks, males, persons from broken homes, and persons from
lower classes had in common that caused them to have high rates of
crime? The answer to this question, presumably, would specify the in-
tervening mechanisms that accounted for the observed correlations be-
tween these concrete conditions and criminal behavior. The second
method is differentiation of levels of explanation. Sutherland (1947, p. 4)
argued that in causal analysis we need to focus on a particular level of
explanation and hold other levels constant, rather than trying to explain
everything at once. For example, we can develop an explanation of in-
dividual criminality without simultaneously explaining aggregate crime
rates, Of the origins of crime in SOCiety. Ideally, of course, a theory would
imply explanations at other levels, but those explanations can be expli-
cated later. The third method of constructing a theoretical generaliza-
tion is analytic induction (Sutherland, 1973b). Pioneered by Thomas and
Znaniecki (1927) in their study of the Polish peasant, and later applied to
opiate addiction by Lindesmith (1938), analytic induction consists, in
four steps, of a case-by-case search for a necessary and sufficient expla-
nation: (1) roughly define the universe of a phenomenon; (2) formulate
a tentative hypothesis and try it out on a few cases; (3) if the hypothesis
does not fit, either modify the hypothesis or redefine the universe; (4)
continue searching for negative cases until confidence in the hypothesis
is found.
Sutherland used these methodological strategies to develop his the-
ory of differential association. The general theoretical direction that
Sutherland took was influenced by the intellectual context of his time:
the Chicago School of sodologists-Park, Burgess, Thomas, Wrrth, Shaw,
McKay, Dewey, and Mead. The specific substantive direction that
Sutherland took was influenced by three developments in criminology.
First was the work of Shaw and McKay (1931, 1969), which mapped the
geographic distribution of delinquency in Chicago, finding that (1) delin-
quency rates increased as one moved away from the center of the city, (2)
ecological rates of delinquency remained stable over generations de-
spite a complete turnover of ethnic composition, and (3) social disorga-
~~ __ ..: ___ ._l_! __ ..l 1.1.. _ 1..~ _1.. __ 1. _ _ _ l .1 _1' _ _ "" ____ !._ d. _ , __ ... _. _"_. ,., _____ .1
264 Differentia.! Association and Neutralization
was the work of Sellin (1938), Wirth (1964), and Sutherland (1973a) on
the influence of culture conflict on crime, which asserted that crime in
modem societies is rooted in the conflict of competing cultures. Third
was Sutherland's (1937) work on professional theft, in which he con-
cluded that not everyone can become a professional thief, but rather
one must be accepted into a group of professional thieves and then in-
doctrinated into the profession.
The underlying assumptions of differential association theory were
implicit in early editions of Sutherland's (1933) textbook, made explicit
in the third edition (1939, and revised into final form in the fourth eclition
(1947). Specified in nine propositions, differential association theory
consists of three interrelated concepts-normative (culture) conflict, dif-
ferential association, and differential social organization-operating at
two levels of explanation: the society (group) and the individual
(Cressey, 1960). The theory assumes that, in two ways, crime is ulti-
mately rooted in normative conflict. 1 Stated from a static cross-section_
al standpoint, normative conflict exists when society is segmented into
groups that conflict over norms, values, and interests: Some groups de-
fine a given law as a rule to be followed under all circumstances; others
define that law as a rule to be violated under certain circumstances; still
others may define the law as a rule to be violated under virtually all
circumstances. This condition of normative conflict, characteristic of het-
erogeneous modem industrial societies, results in high rates of crime. In
contrast, primitive undifferentiated societies are relatively harmonious,
integrated, and consensual; they consequently have low rates of crime.
Stated from a historical standpoint, crime originates in the passage
of criminal laws, which, in turn, is a political expression of normative
conflict. More precisely, the behavior of a group in SOCiety threatens the
values, interests, or beliefs of a politically more powerful group (nor-
mative conflict). The powerful group then mobilizes the state to pro-
scribe the behavior in question. At this point there exists normative
conflict about the legal code. Members of the powerful group define the
law as a rule to be followed. Some members of the less-powerful group
will desist from the behavior, since it is now against the law, and change
their attitudes toward the behavior. Others, however, persist in the be-
havior, maintaining their definition favorable to what is now a crime
(Sutherland, 1973b, p. 24).
At the level of the individual, the process of differential association
explains how normative conflict produces individual acts of crime. 2
Criminal behavior is learned in communication with other persons, pre-
dominantly in intimate groups. The content of this learning includes
two sets of elements. One set is the techniques and skills for committing
• 1 • 1 r _ 1 _ L__1-_!_•• _~ 1_ _ •• _ t.H ."':_1..._11 •• _11
19. Ross L. Matsueda 265
bers of society, to complicated specialized skills known by only a select
circle of members. The second, more important, set of elements learned
are the specific direction of motives, drives, rationalizations, and atti-
tudes--either toward defining the law as a set of rules to be observed Or
broken. Given the existence of normative conflict, individuals are sur-
rounded both by persons who define the law favorably and by persons
who define the law unfavorably. Criminal behavior results when the in-
dividualleams an excess of definitions favorable to law violation over
definitions unfavorable to law violation (Sutherland, 1947). Not all def-
initions receive equal weight, however. Rather, each is weighted by four
modalities: frequency, duration, priority, and intensity. Therefore, defi-
nitions presented more frequently, for a longer time of exposure, earlier
in life, and from either a more prestigious source or a more intense re-
lationship, receive more weight in the differential association process. 3
Although the theory is stated as a general theory of all crimes,
Sutherland suggested that the differential association process could be
different for different criminal offenses (Sutherland, 1973d. p. 36). This is
consistent with his belief that a general theory of crime would be less
useful, in both a theoretical and policy sense, than theories of specific of-
fenses or behavior systems (Sutherland, 1947, p. 218). For some behavior
systems, the techniques, definitions, and associations bear little resem-
blance to other systems; in other instances great similarities exist. Thus
differential association theory may consist of several parallel but ana-
lytically distinct subtheories of specific offenses. While specialized
crimes, such as professional theft, are probably explained by special-
ized techniques and definitions pertaining to those sophisticated crimes
only, other more generalized crimes, such as vandalism, petty theft, and
disorderly conduct, are likely explained by similar and overlapping
techniques and definitions. Clearly, the extent to which the differential
association process is offense specific or offense general is an empirical
question, dependent on the class of crimes considered Uackson, TIttle,
and Burke, 1986).
At the level of the group or society, normative conflicts are translat-
ed into rates of crime through the process of differential social organi-
zation. Specifically, the extent to which the group or society is organized
in favor of crime versus against crime determines its rate of crime. Thus
crime rates are a social organizational expression of normative conflict.
Given a society in which members are surrounded by conflicting defin-
itions of criminal behavior, and given that individual criminality is
caused by learning an excess of definitions favorable to crime, social or-
ganization determines crime rates by influencing the probability that
member will be exposed to the competing definitions. Stated different-
~""".·L
hr J'nr.,."'ni .... .,.H""..... i .... +"" .......... (: .......; ......... " .."+n ..... ~ ................. " ......................... ;,.,~ .... l .............,,.,..............
266 Differential Association and Neutralization
that expose individuals to criminal patterns; "organization against
crime" refers to processes that expose individuals to anticriminal pat-
terns. Like the differential association process, differential social orga-
nization can vary by offense: The organizational determinants of
restraint of trade are likely to differ from the organizational determi-
nants of vandalism.
With reference to crime, the important elements of social organiza-
tion are those that influence the probability that group members will be
exposed to an excess of associations with criminal behavior patterns.
When applied to a nation, this organization consists of the structure of
political and economic institutions; when applied to a community, it
refers to community organization; when applied to a delinquent gang, it
refers to group structure and process. Many elements of such organiza-
tions are irrelevant to crime: thus diiferential social organization refers to
those elements that affect the probability that group members receive an
excess of definitions favorable to crime. For example, inner-city black
youth have high rates of delinquency because of their social organiza-
tional context: structural barriers to economic success, residence in low-
income, high-delinquency neighborhoods, and high rates of female
headed households lead to lax supervision, association with delinquents,
and exposure to an excess of definitions favorable to delinquency (Mat-
sueda and Heimer, 1987).
Viewed at either the structural or individual level, differential as-
sociation theory identifies a dynamic ongoing process of interaction that
produces, among other things, criminal acts. The dynamic nature of the
theory follows from the process model underlying the pragmatic phi-
losophy of Chicago school sociology (Sutherland, 1973b). According to
differential association, then, changes in social interactions cause indi-
viduals' ratios of definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime to vary
over time. The degree to which definitions vary is dependent on the
larger social organizational context of learning: In highly institutional-
ized contexts, consistent patterns are presented, yielding stable ratios
of definitions; in less-structured settings, divergent patterns are pre-
sented, yielding fluctuating ratios of definitions. Changes in definitions
of crime are ilio influenced by the individual's receptivity to new defi-
nitions either favorable or unfavorable to law violation. Sutherland hy-
pothesized that differential receptivity is determined by the person's
current ratio of learned behaviors: Those who have learned an over-
abundance of anticriminal definitions will be receptive to additional an-
ticriminal definitions and resistant to procriminal definitions, and vice
versa (Sutherland, 1973e; Sutherland and Cressey, 1978, pp. 89-90).
Whether, at a given point in time, a person who has learned an ex-
(,pss nf ripfinitirmc;. f;\unr::l},lp tn ,..r;rYlo ",.-h,.,.Jh, ... "' ............. ~ .. ~ ..l-~
19. Ross L. Matsueda 267
dependent on variables exogenous to the differential association process.
In an unusual critique of his own theory, Sutherland (1973d) identified
two situational variables that he suggested invalidated differential as-
sociation as a necessary and sufficient explanation of crime. The first is
objective opportunity; clearly, without opportunity one cannot violate
the law. Opportunity, however, is a complex concept, since the crucial el-
ement is perceived rather than objective opportunity. Given a situation
of objective opportunity, differential association theory can explain why
one person perceives the situation as a crime opportunity while anoth-
er does not. The second is the presence or absence of alternate behaviors.
Given a problematic situation in which crime is one solution, the deci-
sion to engage in crime may hinge on the availability of lawful solu-
tions to the problem. Whether or not there are viable alternatives may be
a function of the learning process. Some criminals, for example, may
have learned that robbery is virtually the only way of obtaining money
and have placed themselves in a situation in which they have no alter-
natives. In other cases, viable alternatives are limited by structural or
objective barriers, such as unemployment or low income. Again, given
the existence of alternative solutions, differential association can explain
why a person chooses a criminal or lawful situation.
We can state this dynamic process from the standpoint of the group
or society. Temporal changes in the crime rate of a group or society are
caused by changes in the relative balance of organization for and against
crime. This process explains why the rate of crime does not increase in-
definitely, as criminal patterns diffuse throughout society. As the crime
rate increases and criminal behavior patterns increase in strength and
number, conventional groups become organized against crime, initiat-
ing crime-control programs and media campaigns, all of which present
anticriminal definitions, dry up criminal opportunities, and increase con-
ventional alternatives, which in turn cause the crime rate to level off
(Sutherland, 1973b. p. 21). This dynamic process, like the process of dif-
ferential association, can vary by offense: The differential organizations
influencing changes in rates of restraint of trade may differ from those
that influence changes in rates of vandalism. Viewed in broader per-
spective, historical changes in crime rates for a given society are due to
social-structural changes, which influence the extent of normative conflict.
THEORETICAL DEVELOPMENTS AND
EMPIRICAL RESEARCH
Differential association theory has spawned two major developrnents-
_..:_ - -- --- 1• •
268 Differential Association and Neutralization
difficult problem of operationalizing the theory's concepts, deriving hy-
potheses, and testing propositions. Theoretical developments have ex-
plored several crucial problems raised by the theory, such as identifying
the precise mechanisms by which crime is learned and specifying a the-
ory of the origins of delinquent subcultures.
OPERATIONALlZING AND TESTING THE THEORY
Perhaps the most serious criticism of differential association argues that
the theory cannot be tested empirically. Cressey (1960) has argued that
even though the theory may be untestable, it remains an important prin-
ciple for organizing our knowledge about the correlates of crime. Others
chum that the theory is of little value if it cannot be tested (Gibbs. 1987;
Glued~f 1966; Hirshi, 1969). Some versions of this criticism are on shaky
ground because they fail to recognize that theories-being sets of inter-
related propositions explaining a given phenomenon-are rarely testable
as a whole. What are testable are specific hypotheses, propositions, or
empirical implications of the theory (Glaser, 1960, 1962). Another version
of this criticism is on safer ground. It argues that the critical variable in
the individual-level explanation-an excess of definitions favorable to
crime---<:annot be observed or measured. Sutherland (1973d, p. 36) noted
that implicit in the abstract theory of differential association is the pos-
sibility of deriving a mathematical formula expressing a person's ratio of
weighted definitions favorable and unfavorable to a specific crime. Even
he admitted, however, to the difficulty of formulating such an expression
(Sutherland, 1947, p. 7).
Early empirical studies of juvenile delinquency operationalized dif-
ferential association theory using the concept of associations with delin-
quent peers, and the frequency, duration, priority, and intensity of such
associations. Most of these studies found general support for the theory:
Juveniles who reported more delinquent friends tended to commit more
delinquent acts (Short, 1957, 1958, 1960; Glaser, 1960; Reiss and Rhodes,
1964: Voss, 1964; StanJield, 1966; Hirschi, 1969; Krohn, 1974). This strat-
egy assumes that most delinquent behaviors are learned from one's
peers, that delinquent peers are likely to transmit delinquency and non-
delinquent peers nondelinquency, and therefore the concept of delin-
quent peers is highly correlated with the concept of associations with
definitions favorable and unfavorable to delinquency. The problem with
this strategy is that it fails to measure directly the crucial variable,
learned definitions of law violation. It is conceivable that some defini-
tions favoring law violation are learned from non delinquents and some
definitions favoring conformity are learned from delinquents. Further-
, •• ,. ,._ .' .1.'_ ,1. __ '_._' ___ •
19. Ross L. Matsueda 269
out a hypothesis based on the opposite causal ordering, such as Glueck
and Glueck's (1950, p. 164) "birds of a feather flock together."
Several researchers facilitated a more direct strategy of operational-
izing the theory by identifying the content of definitions favorable to
crime and delinquency. Thus Cressey showed how verbalizations and
rationalizations made up an important component of such definitions,
then illustrated them with his studies of embezzlement and compulsive
crimes (Cressey, 1952, 1954). Sykes and Matza (1957) then developed
their concept of techniques of neutralization to illustrate prodelinquent
definitions used by juveniles. Researchers have taken advantage of these
refinements and developed survey instruments to measure a person's
learned definitions of law violation Uensen, 1972; Hepburn, 1976; Grif-
fin and Griffin, 1978; Matsueda, 1982; Jackson, little, and Burke, 1986;
little, Burke, and Jackson, 1986; Orcut!, 1987; Matseuda and Heimer,
1987}.
More recently, researchers have used advances in structural equation
modeling to address three issues: response errors in measures of defin-
itions of crime, dynamic processes inherent in the theory, and offense-
specific models. Orcut! (1987) found that consistent with differential
association theory, marijuana smoking is explained by definitions fa-
vorable to marijuana use and number of friends who smoke marijuana.
Moreover, he found an interaction effect between the two variables, con-
cluding that, as Sutherland (1973b, p. 40) suggested, predictions from
differential association theory are increasingly uncertain as the ratio of
definitions favorable and unfavorable to crime approaches unity.
In my own work, I conceptualize the ratio of definitions of law vio-
lation as an unobservable, latent construct, which cannot be measured
perfectly, but can be measured approximately by observable indicators
from surveys. Such indicators, however, contain unreliability, which can
attenuate effects that we are interested in. Covariance structure analysis
allows us to correct for such attentuation by specifying and estimating a
measurement model linking observable indicators to latent theoretical
constructs. Using this strategy, we found that differential association is
empirically supported: For both black and nonblack. males, the process
of learning definitions favorable and unfavorable to delinquency is the
intervening mechanism explaining the influence on delinquency of age,
broken homes, socioeconomic status, neighborhood trouble, and
parental and peer processes (Matsueda, 1982; Matseuda and Heimer,
1987). One llmitation of this line of research is that it relies on cross-sec-
tional data to examine an inherently dynamic theory.
Tittle and his colleagues used simultaneous equation models to
model the dynamic nature of the theory and to examine whether Of not
__ . ____ , ___ 1_ thp rliHoronti",l ::l"cn..... i:>H ..... n .......1"\....0"" -jc: ..... H"'nc:'" cncl"'-ifi .... fT."")...,,nn 'r.Hlo
270 Differential Association and Neutralization
and Burke, 1986; TIttIe, Burke, and Jackson, 1986). They also examined
the efficacy of several distinct operational measures, including associa-
tions with criminals, criminal attitudes, criminal normative expecta-
tions, fear of legal sanctions, and deviant motives. Using a variety of
measures of the differential association process and seeking to disen-
tangle their causal interrelationships, they found that a measure of mo-
tivation to deviate was a strong predictor, that the differential association
process worked similarly for a variety ofoffenses, and that for some of-
fenses, an offense-specific process appeared evident. Although this line
of research addresses the dynamic nahlre of the theory, a better strategy
would capitalize on longitudinal data, using panel or event history
analysis. 4
REVISIONS OF THE THEORY
A number of criminologists have attempted to revise the theory of dif-
ferential association so it would be more amenable to empirical test.
Following the spirit of Sutherland's method, these theorists drew from
principles of more general social psychological theories-namely, sym-
bolic interaction and socialleaming. Thus Cressy (1945) applied the in-
teractionist concepts of role-taking and motivation to link learned
defirtitions of law violation to social roles, the building blocks of social
structure. Glaser (1956) applied the interactionist concept of the self, ar-
riving at his hypothesis of differential identification. He subsequently in-
corporated the concepts of commitment and role-taking and generalized
his explanation to differential anticipation (Glaser, 1960, 1978). Other
researchers have built upon these principles, investigating personality
(Weinberg, 1966) and containment (Voss, 1969). TItis line of theorizing
has great theoretical potential, but still requires additional development.
Thus a more explicit conceptualization of the important elements of
role-taking and cognitive processes are needed before operational mea-
sures can be located, and hypotheses derived and tested.
The second line of revision incorporates principles of operant con-
ditioning and socialleaming theory to specify the precise mechanisms
by which crime is learned. Early versions incorporated Skinner's prin-
ciples of classical and operant conditioning (JefITey, 1965; Burgess and
Akers, 1966), while later versions added Bandura's (1969) socialleam-
ing principles (Akers, 1977, 1985; Akers et a!., 1979). According to Aker's
social learning theory, crime is initially learned through direct imita-
tion or modeling; the subsequent likelihood of sustaining criminal be-
havior is determined by diHerential reinforcement, the relative rewards
and punishments following the act. Reinforcement can be direct or vic-
arious, wherebv simnlv nh.<;prvinD" rmnthpr'~ rrirnin::ll h""h"lTinr ho;nn-
19. Ross L. Matsueda 271
reinforced will reinforce the observer's own criminal behavior. Defini-
tions of crime are learned through this process and affect behavior di-
rectly, as well as indirectly, by serving as cues (discriminative stimuli)
for law violation. Akers and his colleagues have not only specified a so-
dal learning theory, they have also developed operational indicators
of imitation, differential reinforcement, and definitions of deviance.
Moreover, they find that social learning theory explains substantial
variation in substance abuse (Akers et al., 1979) and smoking (Krohn et
al., 1985). Additional theoretical work needs to identify the important
reinforcers for various definitions, explicitly link these to social orga-
nization and social structure, and specify a situational model of cogni-
tion and role-taking using socialleaming principles (e.g., Bandura,
1986).
A third set of revisions attempted to answer MO important theo-
retical questions implied by differential association theory (Cohen, 1955;
Cohen and Short, 1958; Cloward, 1959; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960). The
first concerned the origins of crime: "Where did normative conflict or
definitions favorable to crime come from?" The second concerned the
specific nature of differential social organizations: "What are the social-
structural elements that influence rates of crime?" Both questions
prompted research on the origins and persistence of subcultural delin-
quency as a phenomenon of lower-class adolescent males. For Cohen
(1955), working-class subcultural delinquency results when lower-class
adolescents, who lack the requisite social and academic skills due to
cultural and structural barriers, fail to live up to middle-class standards.
Those adolescents perceive a sense of personal failure and typically find
themselves together in the market for a solution. Through a tentative,
probing conversation of gestures--a process best characterized as one of
trial and error-a group collectively innovates a new status hierarchy, a
delinquent subculture. Reaction formation explains the content of such
a subculture: They reduce their anxiety, exaggerating their disdain for
middle-class values, leading to definitions favorable to delinquent be-
haviors that are impulsive, malicious, and irrational from the stand-
point of the middle class.
For Cloward and Ohlin (1960), the distribution of delinquent sub-
cultures results from the structures of legitimate and illegitimate op-
portunity. Borrowing from Merton (1938), they argue that lower-class
adolescents share middle-class aspirations of improving their econom-
ic status, but are structurally blocked from attaining those goals. Those
who attribute their failure to a personal shortcoming are likely to adopt
an isolated solution (turning to drugs) to their frustration, while those at-
tributing failure to the inequitable social system, are more likely to adopt
~ _~11 __ ...: •• _ ,,~l •• ...:~~ , ..... ~:~~ ........:""l .... ~ ....... ___ ;~: ....... l ~ ...... ~ ... \ 'l"'h .............. ",lu
 272 Differential Association and Neutralization
tions are structured by illegitimate opportunity-the opportunity to en-
gage in delinquency, to learn delinquent definitions, and to learn tech-
niques of delinquency-which varies by neighborhood organization~
Such structures constitute Sutherland's "organization in favor of crime"
(se: also Kobrin, 1951). In integrated lower-class neighborhoods, in
which bonds form between criminal and conventional roles (such as
fences and fixes) and between older and younger offenders, stable sub-
~ultures of theft flourish. In unintegrated, disorganized neighborhoods,
little ,opportunity exists to learn and execute such sophisticated crimes,
and, mstead, frustrated youth must turn to violence to obtain status and
vent hostility. Finally, in neighborhoods lacking such organization, drug
subcUltures develop. Most empirical research on this issue, however,
has been unable to locate such distinct subcultures, finding instead a
single parent subculture (Cohen and Short, 1958).
The importance of this work lies in its attempts to identify the con-
cre~e content of differential social organization and its attempt to ex-
plam the origins of definitions favorable to subcultural delinquency.
Unfortunately, recent empirical research has trivialized this line of the-
orizing by confusing levels of explanation-reducing social structural
concepts to individual-level characteristics-and by applying the ex-
planation to explain all forms of delinquency, not merely the subcultur-
al form (CulIen, 1984). It is not surprising that such research finds the
trivialized theories unsupported.
KORNHAUSER'S CRITIQUE
A recent trend among empirical researchers of crime is not an attempt to
~est or revise differential association theory, but rather an attempt to reject
It outright in favor of either social control theory or a version of integrat-
e~ theories. Much of the stimulus for this trend originates directly or in-
directly from the work of Komhauser. Directly, Komhauser's (1978) recent
work presents a seemingly devastating critique of differential association
fro~ the standpoint of a social disorganization-social control perspective.
IndIrectly, Kornhauser's (1963) earlier version of the work served as a
the?retical framework for Travis Hirschi's (1969) key empirical study.
wInch found support for his social control theory over differential asso-
ciation, and stimulated subsequent interest in the control perspective.
Komhauser's (1978) essay is an excellent analytical dissection of
t~aditional theories of delinquency along the lines of Core concepts or so-
clOlogy: social structure, culture, social order, socialization, and behav-
ior. In a rhetorical exercise, she categorizes the major theories of crime
19. Ross L. Matsueda 273
. t cultural deviance, strain, and disorganization perspectives, then ar-
moes that disorganization theories are ana I·all
ytic y and empIrIC··ally su-
rerior. Unfortunately, by forcing differ~ntial assoc~ation the?ry into an
rs;~plified depiction of cultural deVIance theones, she. IDlSconstrues
oveuu sK
S therland's enterprise and reduces his theory to a carIcature. orn-
h~user defines the parameters of a cultural deviance perspective by
claiming they all subscribe to the following six assumptions.
1. Human beings have absolutely no human nature, but in-
stead are completely plastic (p. 36).
2. There is no consensus in modem societies: Laws cannot re-
flect consensuS, only subcultural values of powerful groups
(pp. 44, 192).
3. Paradoxically, perfect consensus is the only source of social
order: Modem societies, lacking consensus, have degenerat-
ed into a war of subcultures (pp. 38, 44).
4. Deviance (crime) is completely relative; even the most
heinous offenses are lawful in some other time or place (pp.
38-40).
5. Conventional (lawful) culture and deviant subcultures are
equally strong in influencing behavior (p. 27); socialization is
always perfect (p. 194).
6. Behavior is always a perfect expression of subcultural val-
ues, and, therefore, behaviors are never deviant-only sub-
cultures are (p. 25).
Hence the term "cultural deviance theory."
Each of these assumptions exaggerates Sutherland's writings.
Sutherland (1926; 1947, p. 90) did not assert that human beings have no
nature, but simply argued that criminal behavior is learned, just like
other behaviors. Thus human beings are born with a genetic makeup,
with innate drives, and with impulses; however, the specific direction
that these drives and impulses take, whether toward crime or confor-
mity, is conditioned by social forces. Nor did Sutherland (1947, pp.
16-17) assume that modem societies are so conflict ridden as to pre-
clude any form of consensus, or that consensus is the sole source of social
order, or that laws cannot reflect any degree of agreement. In~tead, he
simply observed that compared to many primitive undiff~rentiat~d so-
cieties, which present uniform behavior patterns, modem mdustrIal so-
cieties present inconsistent patterns of behavi?r (1947, p. 70). Often these
inconsistencies motivate groups to pass cnmmallaws that outlaw what
they regard as undesirable behaviors. Sutherland noted that comrnon-
 274 Differential Associtltion and Neutralization
law crimes reflect a general agreement in society about general cate-
gories of behavior, and in fact probably originated from a crystalliza_
tion of mores (Sutherland, 1947, p. 16)6 Other laws, particularly statutory
laws, clearly reflect conflicts of interests or values?
When Sutherland said that crime is relative, he simply meant that
laws differ in different societies. When he said that crime is the result of
culture conflict, he meant that the presence of conflict over what specif-
ic~lly shoul~ be outlawed gives rise to criminal laws and ultimately
Cf1lll€. He did not mean that consensus is nonexistent. Finally, Suther-
land did not state that all cultures and subcultures are equally binding
on behaviors, or that socialization is always perfect. Indeed, Sutherland
(1973b, p. 21; 1947, pp. &-9) posited variation in the strength and content
of both organization favoring crime and organization against crime. So-
dalization at the individual level consists of learning definitions favor-
able and unfavorable to crime, both of which vary in strength (at
minimum) by frequency, duration, priority, and intenSity. Sutherland
(1973b, p. 21) implied that most people refrain from engaging in crime
because conventional normative systems and organizations are almost
always stronger than criminal organization. It turns out that contrary
to the portrait painted by Kornhauser, Sutherland does not fit her cari-
cature of cultural deviance theory: Cultures are not assumed equally
binding, socialization is not assumed perfect, consensus and human na-
ture are not precluded.
From those assumptions imputed to Sutherland, Kornhauser (1978,
pp. 189-200) derives several propositions about differential association
that appear devastating but are in a fact wholly alien to the'theory.
Sutherla~d, she argues, assumes that structural differentiation is per-
fectly mtrrored by subcultural differentiation, which in turn perfectly
socializes its members to crime if its norms happen to be outside the
purview of the law. Thus social structure and culture are indistinguish-
able: Social structure is a structure of values only. Moreover, social struc-
ture and cultures are not treated as variables, but as constants: Crime is
explained not by weak culture and structure, but by perfect socialization
to equally strong cultures and structures that vary only in normative
content. Furthermore, the process by which definitions or delinquency
are learned is beyond lawful regulation-the result of the aleatory
process of the everproliferating structural and subcultural differentia-
tion. Therefore, Sutherland is left with nothing to explain sociologically:
Behavior, situations, culture, and social structure are all treated as con-
stants, present everyvvhere, and, as such, present nowhere (p. 200). Be-
cause structure is culturel and culture is everywhere, Sutherland cannot
tell us which elements of structure are important, which subgroups will
19. Ross L. Matsueda 275
form subcultures, or which subcultures will cause crime-in fact, he as-
sumes that all subgroups are equally able to create values to justify their
behavior. Finally, Sutherland is left with a conception of society that has
nO order: While he argues that perfect consensus is the only source of
order possible, he denies any consensus in social norms and laws. There
cannot be even minimal agreements over the ndes of the game that
would allow groups to conflict.
Komhauser's reasoning may be logical, but because she has begun
with a faulty premise-forcing differential association into her cultural
deviance model-her reasoning leads her astray, causing her to build a
straw man. Her misreading of Sutherland stems from her failure to ap-
preciate two principles followed by Sutherland: logical abstraction, and
differentiation of levels of explanation. Recall that Sutherland attempt-
ed to abstract from concrete historical conditions to a universal gener-
alization, one that located the abstract processes and mechanisms that
would determine criminality in all historical contexts. That generaliza-
tion, based on normative conflict and differential social organization, is
formally stated without concrete content. Komhauser confuses the state-
ment of an abstract generalization with the statement of concrete con-
ditions that can be explained by the generalization. Thus, while not
formally stated in the abstract generalization, Sutherland clearly in-
tended that the learning of definitions of crime is not a result of aleato-
ry processes, but is structured by the concrete elements of social
organization that determine communication patterns. These elements,
which include social disorganization, cultural transmission, group or-
ganization, and the like, vary across groups, societies, and historical pe-
riods. That is, the concrete conditions vary in time and space, but the
abstract mechanisms remain invariant.
Sutherland was acutely aware of the problem of infinite regress, in
which causal conditions are invalidated because they are caused by
some prior condition, which in turn are invalid because of still prior
causes, and so on. His solution was to hold the level of explanation con-
stant at a given point, solve that problem, then move on to another level.
Thus questions about why individuals have the associations they have
or where definitions favorable to crime come from are important, but
exist at a different level of explanation. Nevertheless, in his substantive
writings, Sutherland did discuss many concrete mechanisms that ad-
dressed, but did not resolve, these questions. s
At times, Kornhauser (1978, p. 7) appears to confuse levels of ex-
planation, implying that social structure exists as a variable in the psy-
chological processes operating at the individual level. Sutherland, in
contrast, clearly differentiated the individual from social structure. He
276 Differential Association and Neutralization
argued that historically, structural differentiation led to constraints on
communication, divergences in interests, and restrictions on opportu-
nities-all of which helped spawn differing definitions and interpreta-
tions of norms. The strength (weight) and content of those definitions or
behavior patterns are influenced by the general social organization. So-
cial structure, then, generates motives, attitudes, and rationalizations,
and accounts fOT their distribution, but is, at the same time, analytically
distinct from thosepattems. At the individual level, a person's location
in social structure determines the person's group affiliations, commu-
nication patterns, objective interests, and so on, which in turn, influence
the kinds of behavior patterns encountered.
Shorn of misconceptions and Qversirnplifications, the root of Kom-
hauser's critique of differential association does not involve the confu-
sion of culture and social structure, the failure to treat culture as a
variable, or the assumption of perfect socialization. Rather it boils down
to thiS. Disorganization and control theories simply assume that the pro-
criminal beliefs, motives, and interests of criminals do not very appre-
ciably (if they exist at all) and do not have any causal impact on criminal
behavior. All that varies are commitments and beliefs in conventional be-
havior. Thus by assumptiol1, only those definitions of behavior derived
from middle-class morality are important; all other interpretations are
discounted.
Differential association theory, in contrast, allows for variation in
the strength and content of both conventional and nonconventional mo-
tives, beliefs, and justifications. Moreover, the theory suggests t~at mem-
bers first learn the precepts stated in law, then learn when the precepts
apply and when they do not. Variations in these applications, and not
necessarily an oppositional normative system, give rise to normative
conflict, and constitute the crucial elements of definitions favorable to
law violation (Sutherland, 1973c, p. 125, Cressey, 1953; Sykes and Matza,
1957). Since both procrirninal and anticriminal organizations vary in-
dependently in strength, four possible states of social organization,
which vary by ofiense, are theoretically possible: (1) anticriminal orga-
nization can be strong while procriminal organization is weak; (2) the
opposite can be true; (3) both can be strong; (4) and both can be weak.
Social disorganization is a special case of differential social organization,
in which only 1 and 4 are possible, since procriminal organization is as-
sumed to be constant (weak) for all crimes.
Komhauser (1978) concludes by specifying the causal structure of
differential association theory, contrasting it with the causal structure
of control theory, and bringing empirical evidence to bear on the issue.
We can update that empirical evidence. The important distinguishing
19. Rass L. Matsueda 277
feature of the models is that for differential association theory, the ef-
fect on delinquency of variables representing social structure and social
process (including elements of social bonding) should be mediated by
the process of learning definitions of delinquency: In contrast, soclal
control theory predicts that the elements of the SOCIal bond to co~ven­
tional society-such as attachment to parents and peers-should mflu-
ence delinquency directly, regardless of learned definitions. Komhauser
(1978, pp. 238-241) cites early studies of this issue, which found support
for social control theory: In the face of dehmtions of delmquency, ~t­
tachment to parents and peers directly influenced delinquent behavlOr
(Hirschi, 1969; Jensen, 1972, Hepbum, 1976). Recent research, however,
has reached the opposite conclusion. Reanalyzing the data used by
Hirschi and Jensen and using causal models that consider the process by
which definitions are measured, we have found that for both black and
nonblack males, differential association is supported over control theo-
ry (Matsueda, 1982; Matsueda and Heimer, (1987). Specifically, our con-
struct representing the ratio of definitions favorable and unfavorable to
crime mediates the influence on delinquency of attachment to parents,
attachment to peers, broken homes, SES, age, and neighborhood delin-
quency (see also Ginsberg and Greenley, 1978; Johnson et aL, 1987;
Krohn Lanza-Kaduce, and Akers, 1984).
Tl~e work of Komhauser (1978) and Hirschi (1969) has stimulated a
new trend which seeks not to test disparate theories against one an-
other, but ~ather to gain greater explanatory power by integrating the
important elements of such theories into a comprehensive model (El-
liot!, Ageton, and Canter, 1979; Elliott, Huizinga, and Ageton, 1985;
Hawkins and Weis, 1985; Johnson, 1979, Pearson and Wemer, 1985;
Thornberry, 1987). Ostensibly, integrating explanatory mechanisms has
the potential for developing a more powerful explanatory framework. il-
lustrations can be found in integrations of theories operating at different
levels of explanation, and answering distinct questions (Cohen, 1955,
1965; Cohen and Short, 1966; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960). Some of the re-
m.
cent approaches, however, suffer two weaknesses. First, an attempt t?
explain individual criminality, several have att~mpted to mte~~te .v~n­
abIes derived from distinct levels of explanation, thereby tnvlalizmg
group and societal-level concepts (Short, 1979).9 Second, .these theories
often fail to reconcile conflicting assumptions underlymg theu con-
stituent subtheories. Accordingly, the resulting theory typically is less an
integrated theory than a reversion to one perspective or another
(Hirschi, 1979). For example, clearly the most prominent integrated the-
ory is Elliott and his colleagues' integration of strain, control, and social
learning theories. Their empirical tests, which use perhaps the most ex-
 278 Differential Association and Neutralization
tensiv~ and c.arefully.co.llected data set on ~elinquency, appear to sup-
~ort differential aSSOCiation theory over stram and control theories. They
~d that the extent of {'bonding" to conventional and delinquent peers
15by far the most important predictor of delinquency, and mediates the
influence on delinquency of strain and control variables. This finding is
entirely consistent with differential association and socialleaming the-
ories. Perhaps what is needed is an integrated theory based On a unified
s.et of behavioral principles, and operating at distinct levels of explana-
tion. The abstract principles of differential association or social learn-
ing theory may be an appropriate point of departure (Pears on and
Weiner, 1985).
DIRECTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH
Research that has operationalized, tested, and challenged diHerential as-
socia tion theory continues to be significant for understanding the
strengths and limitations of the theory's principles. There is, however,
a second line of research that is sorely needed: Research that specifies
the concrete elements ~f the theory's abstract principles-definitions
favorable to crime, differential social organization, and normative Con-
flict. Such research would examine the social organization of crime in a
given historical and geographical context, answering questions such
as "VV-hat are the important definitions favorable to crime used by cer-
tain groups?" "What are the critical institutional elements of differential
social organizations?" and "What components of social structure are
most important for sustaining normative conflict?" Giving these ab-
stract concepts historical content will have enormous payoHs. It will
make the propositions derived from the theory easier to operationalize
and test. It will allow us to make concrete predictions based on the the-
ory and provide implications for public policy. It will also suggest ways
to revise the theory's general principles in light of the evidence. More-
over, such a strategy would enrich the theory by giving meaning to the
abstract concepts-indeed by bringing them life-and revealing con-
crete causal mechanisms.lO Such concrete studies, carried out at differ-
ent levels of explanation-societal, group, individual, and
situational-would draw from the broader behavioral and social theo-
ries from which differential association is derived. They would not be
limited to static studies, but would also examine developmental
processes culminating in individual changes and historical processes
culmina ting in societal changes.
Perhaps the most fundamental research problem facing differential
rl_"c;;nri.:ltinn rhpnnr inlTnlHo'" irla... f-ihT'i ......... ~h ... " ... ",~~~j. ~t: ...1~-C;~;~~_~
19. Ross L. Matsueda 279
able to crime. Such content is likely to vary throughout history, across
communication groups, and by criminal offense, such that a definition of
crime pertinent to one offense, one group, and one period of time may
be irrelevant for another offense, another group, and another time peri-
od. It seems clear that the preponderance of definitions favorable to
crime are not appositional values that repudiate the legitimacy of the
law and make crimes morally correct. Rather, most are verbalizations
that seek to fit general norms and laws to specific concrete situations. ll
What is needed is a series of inductive studies cataloging the important
definitions applied to behavior by various groups, and situational stud-
ies examining the process by which individuals apply such verbaliza-
tions to conduct. This research would likely identify other variations in
definitions besides Sutherland's four modalities, and perhaps lead to
an alternative causal statement to the concept of a ratio of definitions.
For example, the strength of a definition favorable or unfavorable to
crime clearly depends in part on its persuasiveness, the rhetorical force
of the underlying argument. Indeed, sociolinguistic research on the
structure of arguments may be relevant. The definitions concept is like-
ly a multidimensional construct, and research is needed to identify these
dimensions (e.g., Tittle, Burke, and jackson, 1986). I2
A second problem requiring research concerns the relationships
among roles, role-taking, and definitions favorable and unfavorable to
crime. With the concept of role, the building block of social structure,
lies the link between the social learning process specified in differential
association and the broader social processes identified by differential
social organization. This line of research would build on the work of
Cressey (1954), Glaser (1956, 1960, 1978), and Weinberg (1966) in spec-
ifying a symbolic interactionist theory of role-taking, the social act, and
motivation (Shibutani, 1986, Stryker, 1980: Bandura, 1986), which is
consistent with Sutherland's (1926) thinking. Here, one could address
the difficult problem of specifying a situational as opposed to devel-
opmental theory of crime. Sutherland (1939) first made tlus distinction,
arguing that while differential association was a developmental theory,
which explained criminality in terms of the prior life experiences of
the individual, an equally important problem is explaining crime in
terms of the immediate situation confronting the individual (see also
Gibbons, 1971). Such an explanation could explain the mechanisms by
which a person who has already learned an excess of definitions £a-
vorable to crime either engages in or refrains from crime. Thus the ex-
planation would include the intersection of objective opportunity,
interactions of role-taking with others, and the process by which
learned definitions are interpreted and applied to a developing line of
£_ •• __
"",..,;.; .....,.., I .... n- T ",..,!ranhil1 1 Q77' 13 ThPnrotir::llhr thk lATOlllrl r.:lll fnr ll_"P
280 Differential Association and Neutralization
of group-process, interactional, and collective behavior theories, as well
as theories of choice. 14 Concretely, it would answer questions that
Sutherland raised years ago, but did not answer: "What role does ob-
jective opportunity and alternative behaviors play in the immediate
situation confronting the actor?" " To what extent do criminals leam
definitions favorable to crime and then actively seek criminal op-
portunities and actively ignore conventional alternatives?" Further-
more, it would provide a frame of reference for examining how groups
control the behavior of their members, including informal and formal
sanctions.
From an interactionist perspective, individuals learn, through 50-
cializatioTI, to take the role of the generalized other-including pri-
marily personal groups, but also abstract groups, such as the criminal
justice system-and consider their anticipated behaviors from the
standpoint of the group (Mead, 1934). Thus the definitions and sanc-
tions of personal groups would be most important in controlling be-
havior. Formal sanctions would be expected to influence behavior
inasmuch as the individual takes the role of the legal system, and, more
important, to the extent that his or her personal groups espouse the
nonns and fear the sanctions of the legal system (Sutherland, 1947, p.
374; Silberman, 1976). Glaser (1960, 1978), with his theories of differ-
ential social control and differential anticipation, has begun to spell out
principles consistent with this framework (for a more complete treat-
ment, see Matsueda, 1988). It is quite likely that this situational model
of the criminal act would prove equally useful as a model of learning
criminal behavior. The best example of research along these lines is still
Short and Strodtbeck's (1965) classic study of group process and gang
delinquency.
Once specified, such models can provide a research framework for
analyzing the relatiol15hips among social learning, social roles, and role-
transitions within a life-course perspective (Yamaguchi and Kandel,
1985). In turn, this perspective can be used to explain the aging effect,
maturation, and other dynamic processes in crime. Research along these
lines may reveal that role-transitions are key pivots for changes in in-
terests, commitments, and communication patterns, leading to changes
in the efficacy and content of definitions pertaining to crime. It may re-
veal further that older criminals have learned that the aging process
makes crime difficult, that a feeling of burnout offsets the rewards and
incentives from crime, and that crime than becomes redefined (Shover,
1985). Furthermore, it may reveal that engaging in criminal behavior
acts back on social organization, influencing one's group affiliations,
commitments, and communication patterns, and thus influencing the
19. Rass L. Matsueda 281
learning of behavior patterns. These group processes, social roles, and
life~course variations malce up an important component of differential
group organization. Given the importance of co~unica.ti~n n~tw~rks
in the differential association process, the geographic vanation ID crune
rates may be fruitfully concephIalized as a problem of social networks or
sociometrics (Krohn, 1986). Then, methodological advances in network
analysis, graph theory, and block modeling can be used to examine net-
works of crime.
These group influences are, of course, structured by the backdrop of
larger instihItions and social structures. Much research has shown that
neiahborhood and community organization, family structures and
pro~esses, and school organization are crucial elernent~ of differ~nti~l
social organization, which explain aggregate rates of crIDle. Such msti-
tutions can control crime by serving as conduits for anticriminal defin-
itions, by hampering the dissemination of procriminal patterns, and by
providing conventional opportunities while desiccating criminal op-
portunities (Sutherland and Cressey, 1978). An important line of re-
search would examine dynamic changes in differential social
organization (including changes in these institutional contexts) on ag-
gregate rates of crime. It would also examine the dynamic influe~ce of
the social organization of objective opportunities, as developed m the
routine activities approach (Cohen and Felson, 1979).
Although Sutherland did not specify a theory of social structure in
differential association, he did discuss the importance of components
of social structure, such a social class, for structuring group organiza-
tions and learning processes. Moreover, Sutherland (1947, pp. 69-75)
presented a complex analysis of the origins of normative conflict, argu-
ing that industrialization and the emergence of capitalism debilitated
traditional forms of social control and spawned motives for crime.
Specifically, with industrialization and the transition from the old feudal
order to capitalism, old institutions and controls, such as the church,
were wealcened. Concomitantly, capitalist competition fostered an in-
dividualism and materialism that was easily transformed into crimi-
nality. And, finally, the law as an agency of control was weakened by the
interests of powerful business, which favored a "hands-off" govern-
ment and often resorted to white-collar crimes to gain a competitive
edge. Cressey later expanded this analysis, drawing explicitly on the
writings of Durkheim, Weber, and Merton (Sutherland and Cressey,
1978).
The abstract principles of differential association theory are com-
patible with other theories of social struchlre, such as Marxist theories of
class structure under capitalism. In fact, differential association theory

282 Differential Association and Neutralization
seems more compatible with a Marxist political economic theory than is
social control theory, even though recent writings have attempted to
combine the latter two (Colvin and Pauly, 1983; Hagan, Simpson, and
Giliis, 1985; Groves and Sampson, 1987). For any Marxian dass analysis,
the fundamental underlying structure of capitalist society is class conflict
between capitalists and workers. Their contradictory class locations give
rise to conflicting material interests; thus history is a history of class
struggle, of which the state, law, and criminal justice system play a crit-
ical role in maintaining the hegemony of capitalist institutions. Such
rudimentary assumptions are consistent with the underlying model of
normative conflict assumed by differential association-economic class-
es struggling to realize their interests, with the powerful capitalist class
securing the state to promote its class interests. The seeds of political
consciousness in the working dass, which are revealed at times by em-
bryonic acts of protest, strikes, and violence, consist of competing in-
terpretations and definitions of conventional norms and laws. Social
control theory, in contrast, assumes a consensual moral order, in which
competing definitions, beliefs, and motives are either nonexistent or im-
potent to explain behavior. Even Colvin and Pauly (1983), who daim to
consider variation in both the strength and content of the social bond,
fail to allow for conflicting motives and interests held by the working
dass. IS The problem is in the use of the concept of social bond, which
eliminates meaning and interests, and instead focuses exclusively on
conventional controls.
CONCLUSION
Fifty years ago, Sutherland outlined a series of abstract principles, de-
rived from broader principles of social psychology and sociology, that
made sense of the many concrete conditions associated with crime. The
e.A:planation was intended to arrive at a universal explanation of crime:
While concrete conditions may vary across groups, societies, and his-
tory, the abstract mechanisms would remain invariant. It was a bold en-
deavor, bringing both fame and criticism. Although Sutherland intended
his differential association theory to be a "tentative hypothesis," sub-
ject to disconfirmation and eventual revision, he viewed his methodol-
ogy of searching for universal explanations as the essence of good
science. I have attempted to demonstrate the strengths and limitations of
Sutherland's theory, showing that his general principles and orienta-
tion are basically sound, but that his explanation requires much more
work. The search for abstract mechanisms, principles, and generaliza-
t-inn<:: i<:: .... nlri"'l fnr tho "..-l"." .........:'.-.Y'On..... 1- .... t: l~ ......... Tl..,--1~~ _~ •• ~_ 1: __ 1-_1- __ -= ___ 1
19. Ross L. Matsueda 283
laws, suggesting concrete causal conditions, and implying targets for
controlling crime. But we have scarcely scratched the surface; much
work remains.
NOTES
1. Cressey (1960) changed Sutherland's term "culture conflict" to "norma~
tive conflict" because culhlre conflict was mistakenly interpreted to refer
only to the conflict between the cultures of :immigrants and the larger
conventional culture (see Cressey, 1968).
2. Following Cressey (1960), I am making a distinction behveen the differ-
ential association "process" and differential association "theory." The
former refers solely to the nine propositions describing the process by
which a person becomes delinquent. The latter refers to the theory taken
as a whole, and thus includes tile differential association process, differ-
ential social organization, and normative conflict.
3. The differential association hypothesis, then, specifies that crintinal be-
havior will occur when a person's learned ratio of weighted definitions fa-
vorable and unfavorable to crime exceeds unity. Sutherland (1973d, p.
40) noted that a theory's predictions may become increasingly uncertain
as tile ratio approaches unity (Orcutt, 1987).
4. AnotIler method of testing differential association theory is consistent
Witil Sutherland's (1973) recommendations for developing knowledge
through experimental evaluations of correctional programs. Based on
Cressey's (1955) derivations of treatment principles from the theory,
these studies test hypotheses not by using statistical controls within
causal models, but rather by using randomization within experimental
designs. Both Empey and Erickson (1972) and Andrews (1980) evaluated
delinquency programs based on differential association and found sup-
port for the tIleory. Glaser (1956) found that the best predictors for parole
violation were consistent with differential association theory.
5. Space limitations preclude a comprehensive treatment of Kornhauser's
complex and numerous arguments. Here, I will attempt to characteriz~
and address her major criticisms directly concerning differential aSSOCIa-
tion theory. Long ago, Cressey provided an excellent summary and re-
sponse to popular criticisms of differential association theory. (Cressey,
1960, 1964: Sutherland and Cressey, 1978).
6. For Sutherland, nonnative conflict typically refers less to conflict over
the moral efficacy of the general glass ofbehaviors outlawed, but rather
refers to disagreements over the specific situations to which the laws
should apply. Thus there is general consensus that stealing should be .
outlawed, but disagreement over whether persons should steal to aVOId
starving (Sutherland 1973, p. 125). Such disagreements, often extensions
of legal defenses to crime, constitute definitions favorable to crime
{f' _____ •• 1n!:~. C ••l'm' ~~..l -".{."t-.. ., 10e;7\
 284 Differential Association and Neutralizalion
7. At one point, Kornhauser (1978, pp. 41--42) backs off from her consensus
assumptions and concedes that law serves the powerful more effectively
th~ the powe~le5s. She then tries to argue that such l.1.WS concern only
whIte-collar cnmes, and not the crimes of juveniles. This is a specious ar-
gument, since we are concerned here with fundamental underlying as-
sumptions about social order and criminal law, not a subset of laws.
Moreover, it appears that laws pertaining to juveniles reflect class inter-
ests and not consensus (Platt, 1969).
8. For example, Sutileriand (1947, pp. 69-75) described general social
processes leading to normative conflict, such as the demise of primitive
undifferentiated societies, the rise of capitalism and a concomitant indi-
vidualistic ideology, and the development of a competitive economic
system. He also identified concrete elements of differential social organi-
zation, such as Shaw and McKay's processes of social disorganization
and cultural transmission, the formation of delinquent gangs, the orga-
nization of professional theft and circus grifting, and the org<IDizational
processes at work during war (Sutherland, 1947, 1973c).
9. In criminology, the importance of variance explained has long been exag-
gerated as the ultimate test of a model's strength. Of more importance
are the assumptions underlying the explanatory theory, the tenability of
implicit behavioral principles, and the logic of the theory's structure.
10. While several classical studies addressed this issue, such as Sutherland's
(1937, 1949) studies of professional theft and corporate crime, Cressey's
(1953) study of embezzlement, and the many studies of delinquent gangs
and subcultures (Cohen, 1955; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960; Short and
Strodtbeck, 1965), we have seen fewer examples in recent years.
11. Viewed in this light, our criminal justice system represents one impor-
tant element of conflict betvveen society, which is represented by the
state, and the criminal, who has violated the definitions of appropriate
behavior codified in the law. Thus, legal defenses, such as self-defense,
insanity, necessity, and mistaken identity, are prototypical definitions fa-
vorable to crime, but which are specified in the law. As Cressey (1954)
and Sykes and Matza (1957) imply, many definitions favorable to crime
used by criminals are extensions or generalizations of these legal defens-
es to fit their particular situations. Legal guilt or innocence, then, hinges
on the legitimacy accorded to these definitions in a court of law. There is,
then, an intimate relationship betvveen the processes behind law viola-
tion and the processes behind the reaction to law violation.
12. Several studies have explored definitions favorable to crime (verbaliza-
tions, rationalizations, techniques of neutralization) in a variety of con-
texts, including embezzlement (Cressey, 1953), corporate crime
(Sutherland 1949, Clinard, Yeager, 1980), professional theft (Sutherland
1937), delinquency (Sykes and Matza, 1957: Schwendinger and
Schwendinger, 1985), violence (Wolfgang and Ferracutti, 1967), property
offenders (Shover, 1983), and rape (Scully and Marolla, 1984).
13. Conceptualized this way, the problem entails two kinds of theories: a de-
v""ln,.,..,.,.,,..,h,l
~J..." ... ..........1.. _" ..:I:u ____ -'-'_l _____!_,,_, .. 1.
~
19. Ross L. Matsueda 285
propensity to commit crimes, and a situational theory of the criminal act
as it unfolds. This parallels the conceplualization laid out by Hirschl and
Gottfredson (1986) in their concepts of criminality (propensity) and crim-
inal events (situations of crime).
14. The formal utility models specified by economists provide a situational
explanation of crime, but for two reasons, are probably not very useful
for our purposes. First, they simply assume a rational choice process at a
5ituationallevel, and assume that departures from U1at process wash out
in the aggregate. Second, like differential association, they specify an ab-
stract model of rationality, but fail to specify concretely what the utilities
are. The problem I have identified is to specify those concrete conditions.
15. That such theories concern juvenile delinquents who are generally not
linked directly to class conflict does not eliminate this problem. Clearly, a
social psychological model that allows for competing interests is needed.
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292 Di£ferential Association and Neutralization
Contemporary Application
20 The Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among
College Students
DONALD L. MCCABE
INTRODUCTION
Numerous studies have demonstrated the pervasive nature of cheating
among college students (Baird 1980; Haines, Diekhoff, LaBeff, and Clark
1986; Michaels and Miethe 1989; Davis, et a!. 1992). This research has
examined a variety of factors that help explain cheating behavior, but the
strength of the relationships between individual factors and cheating
has varied considerably from study to study (Tittle and Rowe 1973;
Baird 1980; Eisenberger and Shank 1985; Haines, et a!. 1986; Ward 1986;
Michaels and Miethe 1989; Perry, Kane, Bernesser, and Spicker 1990;
Ward and Beck 1990).
Although the factors examined in these studies (for example, per-
sonal work ethic, gender, self-esteem, rational choice, social learning,
deterrence) are clearly important, the work of LaBeff, Clark, Haines,
and Diekholf (1990) suggests that the concept of situational ethics may
be particularly helpful in understanding student rationalizations for
cheating. Extending the arguments of Norris and Dodder (1979), LaBelf
et al. conclude
that students hold qualified guidelines for behavior which are situa-
tionally determined. As such, the concept of situational ethics might
well describe ... college cheating [as] rules for behavior may not be con-
sidered rigid but depend on the circumstances involved. (1990, p. 191.)
LaBeff et al. believe a utilitarian calculus of "the ends justifies the
means" underlies this reasoning process and "what is vvrong in most
''1l1e Influence of Situational Ethics on Cheating Among College Students" by Donald
L. McCabe, from Soci%gicn/ Inquiry 623, pp. 365-374, by permission of the author and
the University of Texas Press. All rights retained by the University of Texas Press.
TIle author would like to aCknowledge the support of the Rutgers Graduate School
of Managemenl Research Resoltrces Committee, Exxon Corporation and First Fidelity
Bancorporation.
20. Oonald L. McCabe 293
situations might be considered right or acceptable if the end is defined as
appropriate" (1990, p. 191). As argued by Edwards (1967), the situation
deterrrrines what IS right or wrong In thIS deCIsIOn-makmg calculus and
also dictates the appropriate principles to be used in guiding and judg-
ing behavior.
Sykes and Matza (1957) hypothesize that such rationalizations, that
is, "justifications for deviance that are seen as valid by the delinquent
but not by the legal system or society at large" (p. 666), are common.
However, they challenge conventional wisdom that such rationaliza-
tions typically follow deviant behavior as a means of protecting "the
individual from self-blame and the blame of others after the act" (p.
666). They develop convincing arguments that these rationalizations
may logically precede the deviant behavior and U[ d]isapproval from in-
ternalized norms and conforming others in the social environment is
neutralized, turned back, or deflated in advance. Social controls that
serve to check or inhibit deviant motivational patterns are rendered in-
operative, and the individual is freed to engage in delinquency with-
out serious damage to his self image" (pp. 666-667).
Using a sample of 380 undergraduate students at a small south-
western university, LaBelf et a!. (1990) attempted to classify techniques
employed by students in the neutralization of cheating behavior into
the five categories of neutralization proposed by Sykes and Matza
(1957): (1) denial of responsibility, (2) condemnation of condemners, (3)
appeal to higher loyalties, (4) denial of victim, and (5) denial of injury.
Although student responses could easily be classified into three of these
techniques, denial of responsibility, appeal to higher loyalties, and con-
demnation of condemners, LaBeff et al. conclude that "[i]t is unlikely
that srudents will either deny injury or deny the victim since there are no
real targets in cheating" (1990, p. 196).
The research described here responds to LaBeff et at in two ways;
first, it answers their call to "test the salience of neutralization ... in more
diverse university environments" (p. 197) and second, it challenges
their dismissal of denial of injury and denial of victim as neutraliza-
tion techniques employed by students in their justification of cheating
behavior.
METHODOLOGY
The data discussed here were gathered as part of a study of college
cheating conducted during the 1990-1991 academic year. A seventy-hvo
item questionnaire concerning cheating behavior was administered to
294 Differential Association and Neutralization
students at thirty-one highly selective colleges across the country. Sur-
veys were mailed to a minimum of five hundred students at each school
and a total of 6,096 completed surveys were returned (38.3 percent re-
sponse rate). Eighty-eight percent of the respondents were seniors, nine
percent were juniors, and the remaining tIuee percent could not be clas-
sified. Survey administration emphasized voluntary participation and
assurances of anonymity to help combat issues of non-response bias
and the need to accept responses without the chance to question or con-
test them.
The final sample included 61.2 percent females (which reflects the
inclusion of five all female schools in the sample and a slightly higher re-
turn rate among female students) and 95.4 percent U.S. citizens. The
sample paralleled the ethnic diversity of the participating schools (85.5
percent Anglo, 7.2 percent Asian, 2.6 percent African American, 2.2 per-
cent Hispanic and 2.5 percent other); their religious diversity (including
a large percentage of students who claimed no religious preference, 27.1
percent); and their mix of undergraduate majors (36.0 percent humani-
ties, 28.8 percent social sciences, 26.8 percent natural sciences and..engi-
neering, 4.5 percent business, and 3.9 percent other).
RESULTS
Of the 6,096 students participating in this research, over two-thirds (67.4
percent) indicated that they had cheated on a test or major assignment at
least once while an undergraduate. This cheating took a variety of dif-
ferent forms, but among the most popular (listed in decreasing order of
mention) were: (1) a failure to footnote sources in written work, (2) col-
laboration on assignments when the instructor specifically asked for in-
dividual work, (3) copying from other students on tests and
examinations, (4) fabrication of bibliographies, (5) helping someone else
cheat on a test, and (6) using unfair methods to learn the content of a test
ahead of time. Almost one in five students (19.1 percent) could be clas-
sified as active-cheaters (five or more self-reported incidents of cheating).
'This is double the rate reported by LaBeff et al. (1990), but they asked
students to report only cheating incidents that had tal(en place in the
last six months. Students in this research were asked to report all cheat-
ing in which they had engaged while an undergraduate-a period of
three years for most respondents at the time of this survey.
Students admitting to any cheating activity were asked to rate the
importance of several specific factors that might have influenced their
decisions to cheat. These data establish the importance of denial of re-
20. Donald L. McCabe 295
sponsibility and condemnation of condemners as neutralization tech-
niques. For example, 52.4 percent of the respondents who admitted to
cheating rated the pressure to get good grades as an important influ-
ence in their decision to cheat with parental pressures and competition
to gain admission into professional schools singled out as the primary
grade pressures. Forty-six percent of those who had engaged in cheating
cited excessive worldoads and an inability to keep up -with assignments
as important factors in their decisions to cheat.
In addition to rating the importance of such preselected factors, 426
respondents (11.0 percent of the admitted cheaters) offered their own
justifications for cheating in response to an open-ended question on mo-
tivations for cheating. These responses confirm the importance of de-
nial of responsibility and condemnation of condemners as neutralization
techniques. They also support LaBeff et a1.'s (1990) claim that appeal to
higher loyalties is an important neutralization technique. However, these
responses also suggest that LaBeff et al.'s dismissal of denial of injury as
a justification for student cheating is arguable.
AB shown in rable 20.1, denial of responsibility waS the technique
most frequently cited (216 responses, 61.0 percent of the total) in the 354
responses classified into one of Sykes and Matza's five categories of the
neutralization. The most common responses in this category were mind
block, no understanding of the material, a fear of failing, and unclear ex-
planations of assignments. (Although it is pOSSible that some instances
of mind block and a fear of failing included in this summary would be
more accurately classified as rationalization, the wording of all responses
included here suggests that rationalization preceded the cheating inci-
dent. Responses that seem to involve post hoc rationalizations were ex-
cluded from this summary). Condemnation of condemners was the
second most popular neutralization technique observed (99 responses,
28.0 percent) and included such explanations as pointless assignments,
lack of respect for individual professors, unfair tests, parents' expecta-
tions, and unfair professors. Twenty-four respondents (6.8 percent) ap-
pealed to higher loyalties to explain tileir behavior. In particular, helping
a friend and responding to peer pressures were influences some stu-
dents could not ignore. Finally, fifteen students (4.2 percent) provided re-
sponses that clearly fit into the category of denial of injury. These
students dismissed their cheating as harmless since it did not hurt any-
one or they felt cheating did not matter in some cases (for example,
where an assignment counted for a small percentage of the total course
grade).
Detailed examination of selected student responses provides addi-
tional insight into the neutralization strategies they employ.
296 Differential Association and Neutralization 20. Donald L. McCabe 297

Everyone has test files in fraternities, etc. If you don't you're at a great
TABLE 20.1 NEUTRALIZATION STRATEGIES; SELF-ADMITTED CHEATERS disadvantage.
When most of the class is cheating on a difficult exam and they will
STRATEGY NUl\IBER PERCENT
ruin U1e curve, it influences you to cheat 50 your grade won't be af-
fected.
Denial of responsibility 216 61.0
Mind block 90 25.4
All of these responses contain the essence of denial of responsibility:
No understanding of material 31 8.8 the cheater has deflected blame to others or to a specific situational con-
Other 95 26.8 text.
Condemnation of condemners 99 28.0
Pointless assignment 35 9.9
No respect for professor 28 7.9 DENIAL OF INJURY
Other 36 10.2 As noted in Table 20.1, denial of injury was identified as a neutraliza-
Appeal to higher loyalties 24 6.8 tion technique employed by some respondents. A key element in denial
Help a friend 10 2.8 of injury is whether one feels "anyone has clearly been hurt by (the)
Peer pressure 9 2.5 deviance." In invoking this defense, a cheater would argue "that his
Other 5 1.5
behavior does not really cause any great harm despite the fact that it
Denial of injury 15 4.2 runs counter to the law" (Sykes and Matza 1957, pp. 667-668). For ex-
Chea ting is harmless 9 2.5 ample a number of students argued that the assignment or test on
Does not matter 6 1.7
which they cheated was so trivial that no one was really hurt by their
cheating.
TI1ese grades aren't worth much therefore my copying doesn't mean
very much. I am ashamed, but I'd probably do it the same way again.
If I extend the time on a take home it is because I feel everyone does
DENIAL OF RESPONSIBILITY and the teacher kind of expects it. No one gets hurt.
Denial of responsibility invokes the claim that the act was "due to forces As suggested earlier, these responses suggest the conclusion of laB-
outside of the individual and beyond his control such as unloving par- eff et a1. that "(i)t is unlikely that students will ... deny injury" (1990, p.
ents"(Sykes and Matza 1957, p. 667). For example, many students cite an 196) must be re-evaluated.
unreasonable workload and the difficulty of keeping up as ample justi-
fication for cheating.
THE DENIAL OF THE VICTIM
Here aL., you IDustcheat to stay alive. There's so much work and the
quality of materials from which to learn, books, professors, is 50 bad LaBeff et a1. failed to find any evidence of denial of the victim in their
that there's no other choice. student accounts. Although the student motivations for cheating sum-
It's the only way to keep up. marized in Table 20.1 support this conclusion, at least four students
(0.1 % of the self-admitted cheaters in this study) provided comments
t couldn't do the work myself. elsewhere on the survey instrument which involved denial of the victim.
The following descriptions of students cheating confirm fear of fail- The common elements in these responses was a victim deserving of the
ure is also an important form of denial of responsibility: consequences of the cheating behavior and cheating was viewed as "a
form of rightful retaliation or punislunent" (Sykes and Matza 1957, p .
... a take-home exam in a class I was failing.
668) .
... was near failing. This feeling was extreme in onc casc, as suggested by the following
Some justified their cheating by citing the behavior of peers: student who felt her cheating was justified by the
298 Differential Association and Neutralization
re~lization that this school is a manifestation of the bureaucratic capi-
talist syst~m that s~5tematically keeps the lower classes down, and
that adhermg to their rules was simply perpetuating this institution.
.This '~el versus 'they' mentality was raised by many students, but
typlcall! l~ ~on:ments abo~t the policing of academic honesty rather
t~an as Ju.stificahon for one 5 own cheating behaviof. When used to jus-
tify chea~g: th: target was almost always an individual teacher rather
than the msti~tion and could be more accurately classified as a strategy
of condemnation of condemners rather than denial of the victim.
THE CONDEMNATION OF CONDEMNERS
Sykes and Matza describe the condemnation of condemners as an at-
tempt to shift "the focus of attention from [one's] own deviant acts to the
motives and behaviors of those who disapprove of [the] violations. [B]y
attacking others, the wrongfulness of [one's] own behavior is more eas-
ily repressed or lost to view" (1957, p. 668). The logic of this strategy for
student cheaters focused on issues of favoritism and fairness. Students
in:voking this rationale describe "uncaring, unprofessional instructors
WIth negative attitudes who were negligent in their behavior" (LaBeff et
a!. 1990, p. 195). For example:
In one instance, nothing was done by a professor because the student
was a hockey player.
The TAs who graded essays were unduly harsh.
It is known by students that certain professors are more lenient to cer-
tain types, e.g., blondes or hockey players.
I woul~ guess that 90% o~ the students here have seen athletes and/or
fraterruty me~bers cheating on an exam or papers. If you turn in one
of these culpnts, and I have, the penalty is a five-minute lecture from a
coach and! or a.dministrator. All these add up to a 'who cares, they'll
never do anythmg to you anyway' attitude here about cheating.
Concerns about the larger society were an important issue for some
students:
When community frowns upon dishonesty, then people will change.
If our leaders can commit heinous acts and then lie before Sena te COffi-
nll.ttees about their total ignorance and innocence, then why can't I cheat
a lIttle?
In today's world you do anything to be above tlle competition.
In general, students found ready targets on which to blame their
?eh~vior and condemnation of the condemners was a popular neutral-
Ization strategy.
20. Donald L. McCabe 299
THE ApPEAL TO HIGHER LOYALTIES
The appeal to higher loyalties involves neutralizing "internal and ex-
ternal controls ... by sacrificing the demands of the larger society for the
demands of the smaller social groups to which the [offender] belongs.
[D]eviation from certain norms may occur not because the norms are
rejected but because other norms, held to be more pressing or involving
a higher loyalty, are accorded precedence." (Sykes and Matza 1957, p.
669). For example, a difficult conflict for some students is balancing the
desire to help a friend against the institution's rules on cheating. The
student may not challenge the rules, but rather views the need to help a
friend, fellow fraternity I sorority member, or roommate to be a greater
obligation which justifies the cheating behavior.
Fraternities and sororities were singled out as a netw-ork where such
behavior occurs with some frequency. For example, a female student at
a small university in New England observed:
There's a lot of cheating within the Greek system. Of all the cheating
I've seen, it's often been men and women in fraternities & sororities
who exchange information or cheat.
The appeal to higher loyalties was particularly evident in student re-
actions concerning the reporting of cheating violations. Although four-
teen of the thirty-one schools participating in this research had explicit
honor codes that generally require students to report cheating viola-
tions they observe, less than one-third (32.3 percent) indicated that they
were likely to do so. When asked if they would report a friend, only
four percent said they would and most students felt that they should
not be expected to do 50. Typical student comments included:
Students should not be sitting in judgment of their own peers.
The university is not a police state.
For some this decision was very practical.
A lot of students, 50 percent, wouldn't because they know they will
probably cheat at some point themselves.
For others, the decision would depend on the severity of the viola-
tion they observed and many would not report what they considered to
be minor violations, even those explicitly covered by the school's honor
code or policies on academic honesty. Explicit examination or test cheat-
ing was one of the few violations where students exhibited any consen-
sus concerning the need to report violations. Yet even in this case many
students felt other factors must be considered. For example, a senior at
::I l,vnmpn'". rnllpO"P in thp nnrthp;:\c.t rnrnmpnh",.j·
 300 Differential Association and Neutralization
It would depend on the circumstances. If someone was hurt, venJ like-
ly. If there was no single victim in the case, if the victim was [tile] in-
stitution ... , Ulen venJ tllllikcly.
Additional evidence of the strength of the appeal to higher loyalties
as a neutralization technique is found in the fact that almost one in five
respondents (17.8 percent) reported U,at they had helped someone cheat
on an examination or major test. The percentage who have helped oth-
ers cheat on papers and other assignments is likely much higher. Twen-
ty-six percent of those students who helped someone else cheat on a
test reported that they had never cheated on a test themselves, adding
support to the argument that peer pressure to help friends is quite
strong.
CONCLUSIONS
From this research it is clear that college students use a variety of neu-
tralization techniques to rationalize their cheating behavior, deflecting
blame to others and/or the situational context, and the framework of
Sykes and Matza (1957) seems well supported when student explana-
tions of cheating behavior are analyzed. Unlike prior research (LaBeff et
al. 1990), however, the present findings suggest that students employ
all of the techniques described by Sykes and Matza, including denial of
injury and denial of victim. Although there was very limited evidence of
the use of denial of victim, denial of injury was not uncommon. Many
students felt that some forms of cheating were victimless crimes, par-
ticularly on assignments that accounted for a small percentage of the
total course grade. The present research does affinn LaBeff et al. 's find-
ing that denial of responsibility and condemnation of condemners are
the neuh'alization techniques most frequently utilized by college stu-
dents. Appeal to higher loyalties is particularly evident in neutralizing
institutional expectations that students report cheating violations they
observe.
The present results clearly extend the findings of LaBeff et al. into a
much wider range of contexts as this research ultimately involved 6,096
students at thirty-one geographically dispersed institutions ranging
from small liberal arts colleges in the Northeast to nationally prominent
research universities in the South and West. Fourteen of the thirty-one
institutions have long standing honor-code traditions. The code tradition
at five of these schools dates to the late 1800s and all fourteen have codes
that survived the student unrest of the 19605. In such a context, the
strength of the appeal to higher loyalties and the denial of responsibili-
ty as justifications for cheating is a very persuasive argument that neu-
20, Donald L. McCabe 301
tralization techniques are salient to today's college student. More im-
portantly, it may suggest fruitful areas of future discourse between fac-
ulty, administrators, and students on the question of academic honesty.
REFERENCES
Baird, John S. 1980. "Current Trends in College Cheating." PsycllOlogtj ill
ScllOols 17:512-522.
Davis, Stephen E, Cathy A. Grover,Angela H. Beeker, and Loretta N, McGre-
gor. 1992. "Academic Dishonesty: Prevalence, Detenninants, Techniques,
and Punishments." Teachillg of Psychology. In press.
Edwards, Paul. 1967, Tile Ellcyclopedia Of Philosophy, no. 3, edited by Paul Ed-
wards, New York: Macmillan Company and Free Press.
Eisenberger, Robert, and Dolores M. Shank. 1985. "Personal Work Ethie and
Effort Training Affect Cheating." lOl/mal of Personality find Social Psychology
49:520-528.
Haines, Valerie J., George Diekhoff, Emily LaBeff, and Robed Clark. 1986.
"College Cheating: Immaturity, Lack of Commitment, and the Neutralizing
Attitude." Research ill Higher Edllcatioll25:342-354.
LaBeff, Emilv E., Robert E. Clark, Valerie J. Haines and George M. DieldlOff.
1990. "Sit~ational Ethics and College Student Cheating." Sociological Inquiry
60:190-198.
Michaels, James W., and Terance Miethe. 1989 "Applying Theories of Deviance
to Academic Cheating." Socilll Sciellce Qllllrterly 70:870-885.
Norris, Terry D., and Richard A Dodder. 1979. "A Behavioral Continuwn Syn-
thesizing Neutralization Theory, Situational Ethics and Juvenile Delinquen-
cy." AdolesceJlce 55:545-555,
Perry, Anthony R, Kevin M. Kane, Kevin J, Bemesser, and Paul T. Spicker.
1990. "Type A Behavior, Competitive Achievement-Striving, and Cheating
Among College Students." Psychological Reports 66:459-465.
Sykes, Gresham M., and David Matza. 1957. "Techniques of Neutralization: A
Theory of Delinquency." America/l Sociological Review 22:664--670
TIttle, Charles, and Alan Rowe. 1973. "Moral Appeal, Sanction Threat, and De-
viance: An Experimental Test. "Socinl Problems 20:488-498,
Ward, David. 1986. "Self-Esteem and Dishonest Behavior Revisited." TOllmlll of
Social PsycllOlogtj 123:709-713.
Ward, David, and Wend}' L. Beck. 1990. "Gender and Dishonesty." The lOl/mal
of Social Psychology 130:333~339.
 CHAPTER V j
j
Control Theory j
j
j
j
The readings presented in the preceding chapters were written by the- j
orists who have sought to explain how deviance develops from struc-
tural conditions in society, interactional patterns, learrung techniques,
and rationalizations of behavior. In a very real sense, their major concern
j
is accounting for deviant motivation and examining those factors that
are assumed to be important reasons why people acquire such motiva-
j
tional aspirations. While the theorists considered in this chapter have a
similar interest in motivation, the thrust of their argument is directed j
at explaining conformity, on the assumption that deviance will occur nat-
urally unless people are motivated to conform.
Drawing upon the writings of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
j
social philosophers, control theorists assert that human beings are basi-
cally antisocial. They assume that deviance is part of the natural order in j
society; that is, norm violation is inherently attractive and exciting to
most people, and therefore most people are naturally motivated to de- j
viate if they can get away with it. However, control theorists posit that
deviant motivation alone does not adequately explain why people en-
gage in norm-violating behaviori it is more important to understand
j
why people do obey the rules of society. Control theory therefore fo-
cuses primarily on the forces that prevent people from deviating, not j
on those that encourage them to deviate.
This chapter's first selection (Reading 21), by WaIter C. Reckless, j
deals with the impact of social control on deviance. Reckless describes
how external and internal controls can insulate individuals from the
pressures and pulls toward deviance. His containment theory empha-
j
sizes the importance of controlling mechanisms in negating or neutral-
izing the various pressures or pushes to deviate that people encounter in j
~hAiT" .-:I;;,'J1.' liupt: Tt ,,,It:() t:llO'trPt:h. th.,t of thp nv{) hllffprs. innpr rnnti1in-
j
j
j
j
j
 Vi.' Control Theory 305
304 Control Theory
I
than are conforming youths appear to be
ment-especiallya strong sense of one's self-is more important for tional role mo~els and .nt1°nTIS eneral theory and have been substantial-
controlling deviance in modem industrial societies because of the de- . Iy consIstent WI 1 hi5 g .
re1atlve th ch Hl'rschi's research has, however, gIVen
creasing significance of external controls traditionally imposed by a per- nfi ed in 0 er resear . 1 d
ly co rm . hether lack of attachment to schoo prece es
U

son's family or neighbors. rise to questions about. w f 1 p"atl'ons "1 the role intelligence
sseSSlOn 0 ower as
or follows t1le po
LL ,
Reading ??, excerpted from Travis Hirschi's Causes of DeIillqucncy, d h· tance that attachment to peers
extends the basic premises of control theory outlined by Recldess, with plays .in t~Ch~O~!;oilp%~n~:f ~e~!~~ behavior. Empey sugg~sts that
special attention to the individual's bond to others. Hirschi's basic con- plays ill e e al to common-sense assumptIOns re-
tention is that human beings are inherently antisocial and prone to de- while contr~l theory dhoes ~pped finite need for additional testing of
viate unless prevented from doing so by conformity-demanding arding delinquency, t ere 15 a e
g .'
commitments to others. Because most individuals do not engage in de- its basic proposlhons. th st'm question with Hirschi's con-
t Empey e areas mo
viance most of the time, for Hirschi the central question in explaining de- According o. '. arding the antisocial character of
viance should be, "Why don't they do it?" In answering this question, he trol theory are his assumphol ns reg .ty to deviate. Empey asserts that
builds upon Durkheim's claim that the extent of a person's integration ture and the natura propens I fail
human na . . tuall im ossible to test empirically and s
in groups is of paramount importance in accoWlting for conformity and this part of the theory 15 V1I Y P cl the structural orga-
.d h ortunity structures, peers, an
deviance. For Hirschi, internalization of accepted nonns and sensitivity to COnsl er ow op~ . a l ' ty un'pact on the emergence and con-
. . f modem mdustrl SOCIe .
to the needs of others are the central elements fostering conformity in so- ruzati~n o . while control theory may be correct ID
ciety. Thus, an individual who is insensitive to the expectations of others tinuation of d~vIance, ThUfS, tt chment it does not adequately consid-
and does not feel bound by norms (i.e., the bond to society has been . di tin the lffiportance 0 a a , th
m ca g .. I . and demographiC forces on e 50-
th· et of polihca , econorruc, fb '
~~al ~:-l.a i~ ~e~r::i:~a~~~:~u~~~~~ :di~~
weakened) is free to form attachments and engage in relationships with
y
others who may favor deviant activities and lifestyles. Nor does ade q u a:l
Selection 23 is from :M:ichael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi' 5 ublicly 1abeled a clevlant and e e b h .
P h cl ulting role e aVlOr.
book fl General TlzeonJ of Crillle. Hirschi's bond theory, described in the uars attachment. to o.t ethrs aLn rCesourse" byjohn H. Laub and RobertJ.
previous selection, and this evolution of it each start with the same UT . g pomts ID e ife , . I
urrun A lication selection for thIS c lapter.
premise: People will naturally be deviant in the absence of controls to Sampson, is the Contemporary pp cial bond theory that empha-
prevent them from being so. TIle general theory of crime in this selec- Like Hirschi, these authors propose a ~o ·tments to others as a re-
tion goes on to focus particularly on a lack of self-control that is alleged sizes the importance of ~ttachrnent~ an ~:~ receding variations of
to be the underlying characteristic of most, if not all, individuals who straiut on deviant behavl~. ~:er ~~f~ the imgortance of adult social
commit crimes. "In sum, people who lack self-control will tend to be control theory, ho~ever, Y . Ig 1 g ~ r Laub and Sampson, events in
impulsive, insensitive, physical (as opposed to mental), risk-taking, bonds as a restramt on deViance. o. arin or school bonding,
short-sighted, and nonverbal, and they will tend therefore to engage in childhood, parti.cul:;ia~~ ;:~ra~~tdt~t~;:~::g ad~lt
deviance. Ind~ed,
criminal and analogous acts," say Gottfredson and Hirschi. Their main are not the only Imp cl' 1 'Iclhoocl allowed them to deVIate
h h weal· ban 5 ill Cl1
point is that self-control does not arise in any individual automatically.
They observe that low self-control is most apt to occur in the absence of
~:~! b~~~;ht ~::k int~ the fold of conformity if, as their liv es prores~
d· th·r relationships through emp loymen an
nurturance, discipline, or training. In other words, "The major 'cause' of social bonds are create ill el I cl that "variations in adult crime
. Th these authors conc u e
low self-control thus appears to be ineffective child-rearing." In this the- marflalg~· cl bUS,childhood behavior are directly related to the strength of
ory of deviance, the seeds of aberrant behavior are sown early in the unexp ame y
deviant's socialization experiences of his or her family. adult social bonds."
In the Analysis and Critique section in this chapter (Reading 24),
LaMar T. Empey focuses on Hirschi's control theory of delinquency.
Empey points out that Hirschi's theory has sparked a great deal of in- NOTE
terest and controversy, particularly in reaction to its assumptions re- , (H ewood Ill· Dorsey Press,
1. LaMar T. Empey, Alllericall Delmquellcy om , ..
garding human nature and its empirical adequacy. Hirschi's own 1 no"l' _ "1..,1
research findings that delinquent youths are less attached to romrpn_

306 Control1l1eory
21 A Non-Causal Explanation: Containment Theory
WALTER C. RECKLESS
Behavioral scientists, such as psychiatrists, psychologists, and sociolo-
gists, have had great difficulty in identifying the operation of various
factors or conditions, assumed to be directly related to crime and delin-
quency_ It has been almost impossible to isolate and measure the influ-
ence of conditions or factors on behavior of people generally.
TIle status of know.ledge about the "etiology" of crime was so bad
thirty years ago that it led two behavioral scientists to conclude: "The ab-
surdity of any attempt to draw etiological conclusions from the find-
ings of criminological research is so patent as not to warrant further
discussion."l Progress has been made in criminological research and
scholarship since that time but not enough to negate the above evalua-
tion of .Michael and Adler.
In 1940 the author suggested that criminologists should abandon
the search for a general theory of crime causation and look for alterna-
tive approaches which are more realistic and appropriate. 2 Dissatisfac-
tion "vith the application of the concept of causation to criminal behavior
was expressed also by L. Radzinowicz at the Second United Nations
Congress on the Prevention of Crime and Treatment of Offenders, Lon-
don, August 1960.
It is quite likely that causation is not a valid concept to apply to
human behavior such as crime and delinquency, and that a general the-
ory of causation, which has validity for all or a large part of crime and
delinquency, for various samples of offenders and nonoffenders in var-
ious environments, is even more unrealistic, in spite of heroic efforts on
the part of criminologists to search for a valid general theory.
The author proposes that criminologists formulate hypotheses about
or explanations of delinquent and criminal behavior which do not re-
quire the concept of cause or a combination of causes. Containment the-
ory is suggested as a substitute for causal theOlY- The following statement
supplements three recently published statements of the theory.3
COMPONENTS OF EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL
CONTAINMENT
The assumption is that there is a containing external social structure
which holds individuals in line and that there is also an internal buffer
Reprinted with pemlission from Waiter C. Reckless, "A Non-Casuill Explilnation: Con-
tainment llu~orv," ExcC/"pln Crimill%l.'im. Vol1. No. 2 (lvlilT,h I Anril ,Qfi?\ nn n1-n.1
21. Waiter C. Reckless 307
which protects people against deviation o~ the soc~al. and legal norms.
The two containments act as a defense agamst devlatmg from the legal
cl social norms, as an insulation against pressures and pulls, as a pro-
:-ction against demoralization and seduction. If ther~ are" causes"
which lead to deviant behavior, they are negated, neutralized, rendered
impotent, or are parried by the two cont~ng buffers... .
In a mobile, industrialized, urban sOClety such as eXists m the Umt-
ed States and large parts of Northern and Western Europe, external con-
tainment will be found to reside principally in the family and other
supportive groups in which individu~ls actively participa~e. In times
past, the clan, the neighborhood, the village, the ~ast:, .the tn?e/ the. s.ect
have acted as supportive external buffer~ for t~e mdrv:du~~ In addl~lOn
to the family. However, containment wluch eXists for mdlvl~uals w~th­
in the family and other supportive groups of mo~ern urban, mdustnal-
ized society consists of one or more of the followmg components:
1. a role of structure which provides scope for the individual;
2. a set of reasonable limits and responsibilities for members;
3. an opportunity for the individual to achieve a status;
4. cohesion among members, including joint activity and to-
getherness;
5. sense of belongingness (identification with the group);
6. identification with one or more persons within the group;
7. provision for supplying alternative ways and means of satis-
faction (when one or more ways are closed).
Internal containment consists of "self" components - those having
to do with the strength of the self as an operating person. It is com-
posed of:
1. a favorable image of self in relation to other persons, groups,
and institutions;
2. an awareness of being an inner directed, goal oriented per-
son;
3. a high level of frustration tolerance;
4. strongly internalized morals and et~ics; .
5. well developed ego and super ego (m the sense of Fntz
Red!,'! as the control and management system of behavior).
A STATEMENT OF PROBABILITY
The components of the two containing systems are not causes. They .are
h"H"' ... ., n ... in<;:l1btinn<: ",o-;o1ind nn;><;:<:l1rp<;: nll11<: ;Inn nl1<;hp<;, T1,pv ·wlth-
308 Control Theory

stand the pressures, pulls and pushes. When they are absent or weak, nner containing buffer in less mobile, less industrialized soci-
tl,"ne th
the person is likely to deviate from accepted social and legal norms, and . " t11e clan the caste the tribe, the v illage retam
11ere 'h ' fefec-
t el!
etleSW " .' .'
is vulnerable for committing an unofficial (unreported) and/or official . s or in the modern, intensively managed, commurust1c sOClehes.
I1venes fr ' 'b d
(reported) delinquency or crime. When the two containing systems are In such societies the strength of the self, away om a Clfcumscn e so-
strong, the individual will not deviate from the legal and social norms cialstructure, is not put to a test and we really do not know how strong
and will not be an unofficial or official offender. it is or how well it can manage alone.
Containment theory not only describes noncausal buffers against
deviation but it also describes probability. \Nbat are the chances (proba-
bility) that official delinquency and crime (reported deviation of the ASSESSMENT OF INDIVIDUALS
legal norms) will occur or appear in an individual, with such and such
assessment of his inner and outer containment. Obviously, individuals 111e assumption is that individuals of various samples can b~ assessed
who can be classified as strong-strong (strong in external and strong in for the strength or weakness of their outer an~ inner cont~wment by
internal containment) will have a very low probability of committing methods which are at least equal to, if not supenor to, an ordinary phys-
crime or delinquency (becoming a legal deviant); whereas individuals ical examination or the schedule of information used by life ~urance
who are classified as weak-weak (weak in external and weak in internal companies in computing the risk of an applicm:t. An evaluation o~ as-
containment) will have a very high probability of committing crime and sessment of the external contairunent can be rehably made by a tramed
delinquency, sociologist, psychologist, or social worker: wor~ing under an.e~pert.
The writer is quite prepared to admit that of the two containing And it should be possible for two or more mve~tigators to o?ta~.mde­
buffers against deviation, the inner containment is the more important in pendently the same rating of the extemal conta~ent of an m~1Vldual,
the mobile, industrialized settings of modem society. This is because as a result of a field investigation. [n the not too distant future, It should
individuals in such societies spend much of their time away from the be possible for sociologists to develop a reliable and valid check list or a
family and other supportive groups which can contain them. As a result scale to measure the strength of external containment, which would
they must rely more on their OVffi. inner strength to function compe- help to standardize the assessments.. .
tently. It is also probable that the outer is operationally more important Likewise an assessment ot internal contamment can be made reli-
ably by com~etent psychiatrists, psychologists,.or sociologists. Psy-
chologists have already validated several personality scales and some of
SCHEME 1 PROBABILITIES OF DEVIANCY IN MOBILE, INDUSTRIALIZED,
them could be used for measuring the strength of the self. It would be no
URBAN SOCIETIES
large task for research psychologists, psyc~atrists, or soc~ologists, fa-
miliar with measurement techniques, to valldate a scale which tests s:v-
INNER CONTAINMENT (put to a test in everyday living) eral components of strength of seU. E:ven without.the ~d of a measu~ng
ExTERNAL CONTAINMENT STRONG WEAK instrument, psychologists, psychiatrIsts, and soc~ologtsts.could make a
Strong Very Low Medium to Moderately High fairly reliable clinical evaluation of the inner contairunent, ID terms of the
Weak Moderately Low Very High components listed above, through interview w~th the individual.. And
two or more equally trained experts could arnve at the same assess-
ment of the self of an individual independently,
SCHEME 2 PROBABILITiES OF DEVIANCY IN LESS ADVANCED AND IN
HIGHLY MANAGED SOCIETIES
Known groups of juvenile and adult offenders :an
be assessed ac-
cordino- to the hvo containing systems and compansons can be made
INNER CONTAINMENT (probably not put to actual test) with the assessments of comparable groups (for age, sex, class, religion,
EXTERNAL CONTAINMENT STRONG WEAK
etc.) of known nonoffenders. Preadolescent children can be assessed,
Strong Very Low Medium to Moderately Low say at 12 years of age, and records of official delinquency and adult
Weak Medium to Moderately High Very High crime could be cleaTed for this experimental sample until 21 years of
age. Then inner and outer containment could be related to the absence of
• .. 1" _ ~L ____ 1•• ~_~~"" _ ... ....:1 1 .................. "'O~ {~Mh",n rh",\! no
 310 Control Theory
21. Waiter C. Reckless 311

~~~ur), to continuation in delinquency and crime once having begun,

fugues, panics, hallucinations, paranoidal tendencies. The self as a con-
trolling agent of the person, if it is strong enough, can cope with ordi-
nary restlessness, ordinary disappointments, ordinary frustration,
ADVANTAGES IN USE OF CONTAINMENT THEORY ordinary desires, but the self as specified in the inner containing buffer
carlilot contain abnormally strong internal pushes.
Apartfrom the research appf f f h Likewise, contairunent theory does not apply to the other extreme,
tinet advantages and realisti lea Ion ~ t e theory, there are several dis- where begging, predatory activities, criminal pursuits are part of the
the first place, it applies equ~~sp:~~ ~ the ~se of conta~ent theory. In prevailing way of life, such as the criminal tribes of India, the Gypsies of
nonconformity (undetected a~d unr~:o al coru:or~ty*, t~ unofficial Europe, illegal whiskey making in the Appalachian region of the United
norms), to unofficial (unreported) a ~ r~~~ .d~v(latlOn agamst social States, families who live by begging, etc. Persons inherit these criminal
against the legal norms (crime cl n. 0 lela reported) deviation pursuits socially. Their prevalence is the natural order of events, since
methods can be developed t . anI delmquency). Secondly, research there are no alternate or competing modes of gaining a living. What
assessments of both contarru: Imp ement ,the theory and to make the needs to be explained in such instances is failure on the part of some
ogists, and sociologists have c~=:~~· ~~lrd~,.psychiat:istsl PSYdlOl- members of these groups to follow the mode, Opium smoking among
components of outer and . y are mterests ill the various males in certain countries of Southeast Asia, gambling among Chinese
join hands in research; co:x;e~eCryon::~~e~t. They could very readily migrants before World War I, abduction of marriageable females in the
such a mutually shar d ' . a 1 Y DIm a research team with Punjab of former days, use of the machete for defense of personal honor
e orIentation'they Id .
and verify each other's research w;rk FoCO~ very r~adily supplement in several Latin American Countries, smuggling among coastal villagers
good operational theory for rreatrn t' f ~ l'
contamrnent theory is a or mountain villagers on a frontier, stealing of goats and sheep from
crime and delinquency. Institutio~~ 0 r~ ;n ers and the p~evention of neighboring flocks in the Near East have been prevalent enough to be
tercare service could seek to build ~ g ams and probation and af- considered in the same category of accepted pursuits or activities, which
struct an outer containing buffer ~! h~l~~en~th ~f ,the self and recon- need no explanation in terms of deviancy. Some sociological criminolo-
line. Assessments of outer and inner c . ,mg rnd~vldual offenders in gists have referred to such general pursuits and activities as "crimino-
ages could provide the means of earl ontamme~t m the preadolescent genic patterns."
s
dren, so that parents, school, and weItacr: : spot~g ~f vulnerable chil- In between the extremes of abnormal pushes and criminogenic
effort to overcome the trend toward delin u;encles nu~ht make ,special (widely practiced) activities, is the large middle territory of delinquen-
grams to reach vulnerable youth could £0 q ncy ~d cnm:, SpeCIal pro- cy and crime, which needs explanation, because it represents legal and
inner insulation against devian 11 cus upon l~planting a stronger social deviation. Conseguently, a theory such as containment theory is
containments. cy as We as developmg supportive outer needed to explain deviation from the legal and social norms as well as
modal conformity to these norms.
One final reality aspect is also apparent in the USe and application of
MIDDLE RANGE THEORY Containment l1leory. The microcosm reflects the macrocosm. The indi-
vidual case mirrors the general formulation. In the actual research ap-
Perhaps the most realistic aspect of the h plication of containment theory, each case in the various criminal or
search point of view, is that it is .ddl t eory, from a scholarly and re- noncriminal samples must be assessed in terms of external and inter-
to crime or delinquency at tl a ITU e range theory. It does not apply nal containment. It would be difficult to identify, uncover, or assess the
. le ext remes It doe t 1 .
delmquency which is the result f . . ~ no app y to CrIme or presence or absence of the components of Lombroso's, Ferri's, Tarde's,
o overpowermo- mte al h
compUlsions, the illogical propensity for inf °t.l m .f.pu~ es, suc~ as Banger's, von Hentig's, Exner's, or Sutherland's theories in individual
an I e grah lcation, mamas case records of various samples of criminal and noncriminal popula-
*1 . ,
t lS aSsumed thilt people are very inIre u€ntl .
pIe err sometimes; however th
, ey are mo
d II Y Silm{sand that mOst conforming peo-
y (prevalently) conformists.
tions. In these instances, and many others could be mentioned, one can-
iI not get the microcosm to reflect the macrocosm.
 312 Control Theory
22. Travis Hirschi .)J. .:t

NOTES
ELEMENTS OF THE BOND
1. Jerome .Michael and Mortim J Adl C'
York, 1933, p. 169. er. er, rime, Law and Social Science, New
ATTACHMENT
2. Walt~r C. Reckless, CrimiHal BelJavior, New York, 1940, . 255.
3, The first statement of "Containment Theory" is fa cl? tl th. .. In explaining conforming behavior, sociologists justly emphasize sensi-
of the author's textbook on . . . un ID le ud edItion tivity to the opinion of others.] Unfortunately, ... they tend to suggest
1961 Ch . ~ology, Tile enme Problem, New York, that man is sensitive to the opinion of others and thus exclude sensitiv-
. apter 18, the second ill an article entitled "Haltth ' " hich
was published mM t I ;{fi" " eone, W ity from their explanations of deviant behavior. In explaining deviant be-
June 1961 DHa se ,Ir!lt. If KrllllllJO/ogie lllld Strajrcchts/'cforlll, Vol44
1961. ' pp. 1-14; the third, ill Federal Probation, Val. 25, No. 4, Decembe; havior, psychologists, in contrast, emphasize insensitivity to the opinion
of others.3 Unfortunately, they too tend to ignore variation, and, in ad-
4. Fritz Redl and David W' I dition, they tend to tie sensitivity inextricably to other variables, to make
74-140. meman, C lildrcll WilD Ht/fe, Chicago, 1951, pp.
it part of a syndrome or "type," and thus seriously to reduce its value as
an explanatory concepl TI1e psychopath is characterized only in part
by "deficient attachment to or affection for others, a failure to respond to
the ordinary monvations founded in respect or regard for one's fel-
22 A Control Theory of Delinquency lows";4 he is also characterized by such things as "excessive aggres-
TRAVIS HIRSCHI siveness," "lack of superego control," and "an infantile level of
response."5 Unfortunately, too, the behavior that psychopathy is used to
explain often becomes part of the definition of psychopathy. As a result,
in Barbara Wootton's words: "{The psychopath] is ... par excellel1ce, and
without shame or qualification, the model of the circular process by
which mental abnormality is inferred from anti-social behavior while
anti-social behavior is explained by mental abnormality."6
~~:tr:~~~e~ries ~ss~e that delinquent acts result when an individ- The problems of diagnosis, tautology, and name-calling are avoided
if the dimensions of psychopathy are treated as causally and therefore
two hi 0 SOCIety IS weak or broken. Since these theories embrace
t g~y, complex concepts, the bond of the individual to society 't' problematically interrelated, rather than as logically and therefore nec-
no turp~smg that they have at one time or another fotmed the b ',I ~ essarily bound to each other. In fact, it can be argued that all of the char-
exp anations of most forms of aberrant or unu u b ' . aSlS0 acteristics attribu ted to the psychopath foHow from, are effects of, his
::?a~:~~: .that control theories have describeJ ~ et:::~~ ~f~l~~~o~~ lack of attachment to others. To say that to lack attachment to others is to
be free from moral restraints is to use lack of attainment to explain the
units s th m n:anYfways, and that they have focused on a variety of
a e pomt 0 control. guiltlessness of the psychopath, the fad that he apparently has no con-
l science or superego. In his view, lack of attachment to others is not mere-
b d btegin with.a claSSification and description of the elements of the
on 0 conventional society: I try t h h ly a symptom of psychopathy, it is psychopathy; lack of conscience is just
~~:;a:e~:~ ~el~qu:t behavior ~~d °:awo~:;~:~~::de~:,::~~ another way of saying the same thing; and the violation of norms is (or
may be) a consequence.
'. urn 0 e question of specifying the unit to which th
person ISlresuma~ly ~ore or less tied, and to the question of the ad~ For that matter, given that man is illl animal, "impulsivity" and "ag-
gressiveness" can also be seen as natural consequences of freedom from
~~~~~~eoha~~~OhVational force built into the explanation of delin- moral restraints. However, since the view of man as endowed with nat-
ural propensities and capacities like other animals is peculiarly un-
palatable to sociologists, we need not fall back on such a view to explain
Reprinted from Travis Hirschi Gm e ,f 0 'I' the amoral man's aggressiveness? The process of becoming alienated
Press}, 1969 pp 16--34 by '-,. S S oJ t mqllc/lcy (Berkeley: UniverSity of California from others often involves or is based on active interpersonal conflict.
" ,permission 0 f the author.
~lIrh rnnflirt rnllkl Prl.<;i\v .<amolv a reservoir of socialll/ derived hostility
 314 ControJ Theory

sufficient to account [or Ihe aggressiveness of

to others have been weakened, I~OSe"'h men keep them. "13 Few would deny that men on occasion obey the rules I
' Sill'd 11
D urkh eun ' ase attachments simply from fear of the consequences. This rational component in con-
many years ago: "We at
tent Ihal we are social beinrrs,'" This may be ih,~~Ot'lb ' th
fonnity we label commitment. What does it mean to say that a person is j
are moraI b emgs ' " 4',,,,
that we have N' -I'r€ted emgs 10 th e ex-
commltled to conformity? In Howard S, Becker's formulation it means
' ty B
&OCle . ut wh
to the extent
at does'it mean to say that a pe101,l'l1auz dlomean
h
atwe
"
the following: j
t .
norms 0 socIety? The nonus of society are by '~lhilS'
rRl,~ e t e norms of
liz d th First, the individual is in a position in which his decision with regard to
" d f' Jntema e
mem bers 0 f socIety. To vlOlate a norm is Ih"h eInino h d b th
e some particular line of action has consequences for other interests and j
th '1 ""£ nsare y e activities not necessarily [directly] related to it. Second, he has placed
e W'S les and expectations of other people If or, 10 t
b tl 'h '
a Qut le WIS es and expectations of other peo a. Persa d
'acconaryo
tr
t
t himself in that pOSition by his own prior actions. A third element is
present though so obvious as not to be apparent: the committed person j
senStlveto
'f tl " N
leopmlOnofothers-thenheist '~Ih ' 'fh ' ,
noes no care must be aware [of these other interestsJ and must recognize that his
by the norms. H e 15
Tlle essent.:e ~'.
' free to deviate. Oh t at atls' I elsm-
extent not bound
decision in this case will have ramifications beyond it. 14 j
of mternalIzation of norms The idea, then, is that the person invests time, energy, himself, in a
s
thus lies in the attachment of the individual'tl:ClI'jSti~o
al cl eel or superego certain line of activity-say, getting an education, building up a busi- j
ev~r a vantages over the concept of inten1q!,O!ners 9 Thi .
Q
h ness, acquiring a reputation for virtue. VVhen or whenever he considers
nations of deviant behavior based on attachm lzatiQl1' F 5 VIew las
f ' h
wn, smce t e extent to which a person is aft Qo n t b th
~ttt ,or one, exp a- deviant behavior, he must consider the costs of this deviant behavior, the j
risk he runs of losing the investment he has made in conventional be-
measured independently of his devianl behav,' 'ch'<f t e g e quebs-
Q

or vana 't' 'b h . .

IOn ill e aVlOr IS explainable in a Wo> . Flltth0 ot letS can
01: j
1 e havior.
If attachment to others is the sociological counterpart of the super-
j
tions 0 f'mtema J j' "Y I'
zation or superego are used Fo llat it ' ermore, c lange
n'
such
llk' '1'
lan 1S more ely after dIvorce to conunit a 0 l:);;iltt.hl I dJ
. 'd lj ''ly e tIe
h
1.Snotwenno-
vorce
d
ego or conscience, commitment is the counterpart of the ego or C?ffi-
mon sense. To the person committed to conventional lines of action,
j
as SUlCI e or forgery: If we explain these rnb~r f'd ' t t
superego (
cons i
or'mtemal control), We are forced to s 'ClS by 0 £ eVlan t acths,
"h h ' tt).' te 'erenee 0 e
risking one to ten years in prison for a ten-dollar holdup is stupidity,
because to the committed person the costs and risks obviously exceed
j
c ence w en e got a dIvorce; and of COl. that th "I t 1 ' ten dollars in value, (To the psychoanalyst, such an act exhibits failure to
ha ve t 0 cone1u d e that he gets ills
Th' d' .
. conscience bayts
I
1 Q, if h
"'«;
eman ' os us
e remarnes, we be governed by the "reality-principal.") In the sociological control the- j
. IS j~enslOn of the bond to conventional ' ory, it can be and is generally assumed that the decision to commit a
ill most SOCIal control-orjented research and th sQcie .
temal control" and '" dJr t tr I" f .Oh, ty ,s encountered criminal act may well be rationally determined-that the actor's deci- j
. In ec con 0 re er to the 8 -y. p. Ivan N e's "in- sion was not irrational given the risks and costs he faces. Of course, as
we avoId the problem of explainino- chan es
"conscience" in th b d t th b g
0""ta..rne Y
t' element, although Beeker points out, if the actor is capable of in some sense calculating j
. 10 e on 00 ers rather than 11.) ,lOl.e b locatin the the costs of a line of action, he is also capable of calculational errors: ig-
sanalIty. Attachment to others is just one as t:I:~ll:) , y g
"personal controls'"
, we avOl
'd hi bl
s pro ems of to
1>"Ct g lt part of the per-
Of Alb ) R' ,
norance and error return, in the control theory, as possible explanations
of deviant behavior.
j
servations by makin U I' h' tttol ert . elSS S
. g 1e re ahons Ip between
quency problematIc rather than definitional," h"tt"CL
Irvin Pili " " '"
()gical ern iricalob-
-t~lft 'unent an
Pd d ['
e tn-
The concept of commitment a.ssumes that the organization of society
is such that the interests of most persons would be endangered if they j
g avm s ,corrurutment or "stake in COlil oily, Scott Briar and were to engage in criminal acts. Most people, simply by the process of
tachment, as IhelT dIscussion illustrates allho" OtIrtl'ty" b
are more C1ose1yassoCIated ' , the next'~hL su sumes
I
a- living in <1.n organized society, acquire goods, reputations, prospects that j
wlth elemet-.tlq t1.. 1 they do not want to risk losing. These accumulations are society's in-
~lt ~ ~te terms t 1ey use
() be discussed.12 Surance thal Ihey will abide by the rules, Many hypotheses about the an- j
COMMITMENT tecedents of delinquent behavior are based on this premise. For example,
Arthur L. Stinchcombe's hypothesis that "high school rebeUion",occurs j
"Of all passions, Ihat which inclineth men leasl tCl when future status is not dearly re 1ate d to present per f ormance sug- "15
Nay, excepting some generous natures .it is the 0 btE,lqk . gests that one is committed to conformity not only by what one has but j
th ... ;Inn"'''' .. ":>,..,,,..... . . . c ___ L:J.. ___, :.. 11h,.. the laws, 15 fear.
" ,. __ I, _____ ~ __ l-L_:_ 'rt- .• " "~_I.;h"""," ~...,.-l/n .. ""''''n; ... ;>~;,..,n''

j
j
j
j
j
 316 Control Theory
play an important role in producing conformity. The person becomes
committed to a conventional line of action, and he is therefore commit-
ted to conformity.
Most lines of action in a society are of course conventional. The
clearest examples are educational and occupational careers. Actions
thought to jeopardize one's chances in these areas are presumably avoid-
ed. Interestingly enough, even nonconventional commitments may op":
era~e ,to produce co~ventional conformity. We are told, at least, that boys
aspmng to careers ill the rackets or professional thievery are judged by
their "honesty" and "reliability"-traits traditionally in demand among
seekers of office boys.16
INVOLVEMENT
Many persons undoubtedly owe a life of virtue to a lack of opportunity
to do otherwIse. Time and energy are inherently limited: "Not that I
would not, if I could, be both handsome and fat and well dressed, and a
great athlete, and make a million a year, be a wit, a bon vivant, and a
lady killer, as well as a philosopher, a philanthropist, a statesman, war-
rior, and African explorer, as well as a 'tone-poet' and saint. But the
thing is simply impossible."!7 The thing that William James here says he
would like to be or do are all, I suppose, within the realm of conven-
tionality, but if he were to include illicit actions he would still have to
eliminate some of them as simply impossible.
Involvement or engrossment in conventional activities is thus often
part of a :ontrol theory. The assumption, widely shared, is that a person
may be slillply too busy doing conventional things to find time to en-
gage in deviant behavior. The person involved in conventional activities
is tied to appointments, deadlines, working hours, plans, and the like, so
the opportunity to commit deviant acts rarely arises. To the extent that
he is engrossed in conventional activities, he cannot even think about de-
viant acts, let alone act out his inclinations. IS
This line of reasoning is responsible for the stress placed on recre-
ational facilities in many programs to reduce delinquency, for much of
the concern with the high school dropout, and for the idea that boys
should be drafted into the Army to keep them out of trouble. So obvious
and persuasive is the idea that involvement in conventional activities is
a major deterrent to delinquency that it was accepted even by Suther-
land: "In the general area of juvenile delinquency it is probable that the
most significant difference between juveniles who engage in delin-
quency and those who do not is that the latter are provided abundant
opportunities of a conventional type for satisfying their recreational in-
tprp<:t<: lAr'hilp t'hp f,.....-mo,. 1':11"'1- I-'h .............. ~~ ... _ .... _:....: ____
22. Travis Hirschi 317
TIle view that "idle hands are the devil's workshop" has received
more sophisticated treatment in recent sociological writings on delin-
quency. David Matza and Gresham M. Sykes, for example, suggest .that
delinquents have the values of a leisure c1~ss, th~ sa~e values ascflb~d
by Veblen to tlte leisure class: a search for kIc~, disdam of work, a desIre
for the big score, and acceptance of aggressIve toughness as proof ~f
masc u linity.20 Matza and Sykes explain delinquency by reference to this
system of values, but they note that adolescents at a~,l class .level.s are
"to some extent" members of a leisure class, that they move m a limbo
between earlier parental domination and future integration with the so-
cial structure through the bonds of work, and marriage."Zl In th~ en?,
then, the leisure of the adolescent produces a set of values, which, m
turn, leads to delinquency.
BELIEF
Unlike the cultural deviance theory, the control theory assumes the ex-
istence of a common value system within the society or group whose
norms are being violated. If the deviant is committed to a value system
different from that of conventional society, there is, within the context of
the theory, nothing to explain. The question is, "Why does a man violate
the rules in which he believes?" It is not, "Why do men differ in their be-
liefs about what constitutes good and desirable conduct?" 'The person is
assumed to have been socialized (perhaps imperfectly) into the group
whose rules he is violating; deviance is not a question of one group im-
posing its rules on the members of another group. In other words, we
not only assume the deviant has believed the lules, we assume he be-
lieves the rules even as he violates them.
How can a person believe it is wrong to steal at the same time he is
stealing? In the strain theory, this is not a difficult problem. (In fact, the
strain theory was devised specifically to deal with this question.) The
motivation to deviance adduced by the strain theorist is so strong that
we can well understand the deviant act even assuming the deviator be-
lieves strongly that it is wrong. 22 However, given the control theo~y' s
assumptions about motivation, if both the deviant and the nondevlant
believe the deviant act is wrong, how do we account for the fact that
one commits it and the other does not?
Control theories have talcen two approaches to this problem. In one
approach, beliefs are treated as m~re. wo~?s that ~ean little. o~,not~g
if the other forms of control are mIssmg. Semantic dementia, the dIS-
sociation between rational faculties and emotional control which is said
to be characteristic of the psychopath, illustrates this way of handling
.• ., ,)'IT 1 "" r_ . ' 1 ___ ~!~ __ .c ____ .t.1~_ •• ____ " .... _ .... " ... ".-11-n
L _ _ !1!,-' __ ulQ
 318 ContTol Theory
words, drop out of the picture; since they do not differentiate between
deviants and nondeviants, they are in the same class as "language" or
any other characteristic common to all members of the group. Since
they represent no real obstacle to the commission of delinquent acts,
nothing need be said about how they are handled by those commit-
ting such acts. The control theories that do not mention beliefs (or val-
ues), and many do not, may be assumed to take this approach to the
problem.
The second approach argues that the deviant rationalizes his be-
havior so that he can at once violate the rule and maintain his belief in it.
Donald R. Cressey has advanced this argument with respect to embez-
zlem ent,2-!- and Sykes and Matza have advanced it with respect to delin-
quency.::?5 In both Cressey's and Sykes and Matza's treatments, these
rationalizations (Cressey calls them "verbalizations, Sykes and Matza
term them "techniques of neutralization") occur prior to the commis-
sion of the deviant act. If the neutralization is successful, the person is
free to commit the act(s) in question. Both in Cressey and in Sykes and
Matza, the strain that prompts the effort at neutralization also provides
the motive force that results in the subsequent deviant act. TIleir theories
are thus, in this sense, strain theories. Neutralization is difficult to han-
dle within the context of a theory that adheres closely to control theory
assumptions, because in the control theory' there is no special motiva-
tional force to account for the neutralization. This difficulty is especial-
ly noticeable in Matza's later treatment of this topic, where the
motivational component, the "will to delinquency" appears after the
moral vacuum has been created by the techniques of neulTalization.26
The question thus becomes: Why neutralize?
In attempting to solve a strain theory problem with control theory
tools, the control theorist is thus led into a trap. He cannot answer the
crucial question. The concept of neutralization aSSumes the existence of
moral obstacles to the commission of deviant acts. In order plausibly to
account for a deviant act, it is necessary to generate motivation to de-
viance that is at least equivalent in force to the resistance provided by
these moral obstacles. However, if the moral obstacles are removed,
neutralization and special motivation are no longer required. We there-
fore follow the implicit logic of control theory and remove these moral
obstacles by hypothesis. Many persons do not have an altitude of re-
spect toward the rules of society; many persons feel no moral obliga-
tion to conform regardless of personal advantage. Insofar as the values
and beliefs of these persons are consistent with their feelings, and there
should be a tendency toward consistency, neutralization is unnecessary;
it has already occurred.
22. Travis Hirschi 319
Does this merely push the question back a step and at the same time
produce conflict with the assumption of a common value system? I think
not. In the first place, we do not assume, as does Cressey, that neutral-
ization occurs in order to make a specific criminal act possibleP We do
not assume, as do Sykes and Matza, that neutralization occurs to make
many delinquent acts possible. We do not not assume, in other words,
that the person constructs a system of rationalizations in order to justi-
fy commission of acts he waJlts to commit. We assume, in contrast, that
the beliefs that free a man to commit deviant acts are ul1l1lotivated in the
sense that he does not construct or adopt them in order to facilitate the
attainment of illicit ends. In the second place, we do not assume, as does
Matza, that "delinquents concur in the conventional assessment of delin-
quency."::?8 We assume, in contrast, that there is variation in the extent to
which people believe they should obey the rules of society, and, fur-
thermore, that the less a person believes he should obey the rules, the
more likely he is to violate them. 29
In chronological order, then, a person's beliefs in the moral validi-
ty of norms are, for no teleological reason, weakened. The probability
that he will commit delinquent acts is therefore increased. When and If
he commits a delinquent act, we may justifiably use the weakness of his
beliefs in explaining it, but no special motivation is required to explain
either the weakness of his beliefs or perhaps, his delinquent act.
The keystone of this argument is of course the assumption that
there is variation in belief in the moral validity of social rules. This as-
sumption is amenable to direct empirical test and can thus survive at
least until its first confrontation with data. For the present, we must
return to the idea of a common value system with which this section
was begun.
The idea of a common (or, perhaps better, a single) value system is
consistent with the fact, or presumption, of variation in the strength of
moral beliefs. We have not suggested that delinquency is based on be-
liefs counter to conventional morality; we have not suggested that delin-
quents do not believe delinquent acts are \vrong. TIley may well believe
these acts are wrong, but the meaning and efficacy of such beliefs are
contingent upon other beliefs and, indeed, on the strength of other ties
to the conventional order. 3D
RELATIONS AMONG THE ELEMENTS
In general, the more closely a person is tied to conventional society in
any of these ways, the more closely he is likely to be tied in the other
 320 Control Theory
ways. The person who is attached to conventional people is, for exam-
ple, more likely to be involved in conventional activities and to accept
conventional notions of desirable conduct. Of the six possible combina-
tions of elements, three seem particularly important and will therefore
be discussed in some detail.
ArrACHMENT AND COMMITMENT
It is frequently suggested that attachment and commibnent (as the terms
are used here) tend to vary inversely. 11ms, according to delinquency re-
search, one of the lower-class adolescent's "problems" is that he is un-
able to sever ties to parents and peers, ties that prevent him from
devoting sufficient time and energy to educational and occupational as-
pirations. His attachments are thus seen as getting in the way of con-
ventional commitments. 31 According to stratification research, the
lower-class boy who breaks free from these attachments is more likely to
be upwardly mobile?! Both research traditions thus suggest that those
bound to conjor111ih} for instrumental reasons are less likely to be bound
to conformity by emotional ties to conventional others. If the unattached
compensate for lack of attachment by commihnent to achievement, and
~f the uncommitted make up for their lack of commitment by becom-
mg more attached to persons, we could conclude that neither attach-
ment nor commitment will be related to delinquency.
Actually, despite the evidence apparently to the contrary, I think it
safe to assume that attachment to conventional others and commitment
to achievement tend to vary together. The common finding that mid-
dle-class boys are likely to choose instrumental values over those of
family and friendship while the reverse is true of lower-class boys can-
not, I think, be properly interpreted as meaning that middle-class boys
are less attached than lower-class boys to their parents and peers. The
zero-sum methodological model that produces such findings is highly
likely to be misleading. 33 Also, although many of the characteristics of
the upwardly mobile alluded to by Seymour M. Lipset and Reinhard
Bendix could be accounted for as consequences rather than causes of
mobility, a methodological critique of these studies is not necessary to
conclude that we may expect to find a positive relation between attach-
ment and commitment in the data to be presented here. The present
study and the one study Lipset and Bendix cite as disagreeing with their
general conclusion that the upwardly mobile come from homes in which
interpersonal relations were unsatisfactory are both based on high
school samples. 34 As Upset and Bendix note, such studies necessarily
focus on aspirations rather than actual mobility. For the present, it Seems,
WP ml1<:t .... hnnC'o h .... h •• ~~~ ~i.. • ..J: __ 1. - _." '.'
22. Travis Hirschl 321
ture and those based on construction or reconstruction of the familial
past. Interestingly enough, the former are the least as likely to be valid as
the latter.
COMMITMENT AND INVOLVEMENT
Delinquent acts are events. They occur at specific points in space and
time. For a delinquent act to occur, it is necessary, as is true of all events,
for a series of causal chains to converge at a given moment in time.
Events are difficult to predict, and specification of some of the condi-
tions necessary for them to occur often leaves a large residue of inde-
terminacy. For example, to say that a boy is free of bonds to conventional
society is not to say that he will necessarily commit delinquent acts; he
may and he may not. All we can say with certainty is that he is more
likely to commit delinquent acts than the boy strongly tied to conven-
tional society.
It is tempting to make a virtue of this defect and espollse "proba=
bilistic theory," since it, and it alone, is consistent with "the facts."3,
Nevertheless, this temptation should be resisted. The primary virtue of
control theory is not that it relies on conditions that make delinquency
possible while other theories rely on conditions that mal(e delinquency
necessary. On the contrary, with respect to their logical framework, these
theories are superior to control theory, and, if they were as adequate
empirically as control theory, we should not hesitate to advocate their
adoption in preference to control theory.
But they are not as adequate, and we must therefore seek to reduce
the indeterminacy within control theory. One area of possible develop-
ment is with respect to the link between elements of the bond affecting
the probability that one will yield to temptation and those affecting the
probability that one will be exposed to temptation.
The most obvious link in this connection is between educational
and occupational aspirations (commitment) and involvement in con-
ventional activities. We can attempt to show how commitment limits
one's opportunities to commit delinquent acts and thus get away ~~m
the assumption implicit in many control theories that such opporturuhes
are simply randomly distributed through the population in question.
ArrACHMENT AND BELIEF
That there is a more or less straight forward connection between at-
tachment to others and belief in the moral validity of rules appears ev-
ident. The link we accept here and which we shall attempt to document
 322 Control Theory
It is not the obligatory character of the rule laid down by an individual
that makes us respect this individual, it is the respect we feel for the in-
dividual that makes us regard as obligatory the rule he lays down. The
appearance of the sense of duty in a child thus admits of the simplest
explanation, namely that he receives commands from older children
(in play) and from adults (in life), and that he respects older children
and parents.J6
In short, "respect is the source of law."37 Insofar as the child respects
(loves and fears) his parents, and adults in general, he will accept their
rules. Conversely, insofar as this respect is undermined, the rules will
tend to lose their obligatory character. It is assumed that belief in the
obligatory character of rules will to some extent maintain its efficacy in
producing confonnity even if the respect which brought it into being
no longer exist. It is also assumed that attaclunent may produce con-
formity even in the face of beliefs favorable to nonconformity. In short,
these two sources of moral behavior, although highly and complexly
related, are assumed to have an independent effect that justifies their
separation.
THE BOND TO WHAT?
Control theorists sometimes suggest that attachment to any object out-
side one's self, whether it be the home town, the starry heavens, or the
family dog, promotes moral behavior.38 Although it seems obvious that
some objects are more important than others and that the important ob-
jects must be identified if the elements of the bond are to produce the
consequences suggested by the theory, a priori rankings of the objects of
attachment have proved peculiarly unsatisfactory. Durkheim, for ex-
ample, concludes that the three groups to whom attacIunent is most im-
portant in producing morality are the family, the nation, and humanity.
He further concludes that, of these, the nation is most important. 39 All of
which, given much contemporary thinking on the virtues of patrio-
tism,40 illustrates rather well the difficulty posed by such questions as:
Which is more important in the control of delinquency, the father or the
mother, the family or the school?
Although delinquency theory in general has taken a stand on many
questions about the relative importance of institutions (for example,
that the school is more important than the family), control theory has re-
mained decidedly eclectic, partly because each element of the bond di-
rects attention to different institutions. For these reasons, I shall treat
specification of the units of attachment as a problem in the empirical
interpretation of control theory, and not attempt at this point to say
whirh ~hn111...t ha ....... " ...,... ,... ... 1~~~ : ____ -'- __ .
22. Travis Hirschi 323
WHERE IS THE MOTIVATION?
The most disconcerting question the control theorist faces goes some-
thing like this: "Yes, but why do they do it?::
In the good old day~, the
control theorist could simply strip away the veneer ~f Clvilization and
expose man's animal impulses" for all to see. !hese llTIp~lses appeared
If
to him (and apparently to his audience) to proVIde a plaUSIble accOlmt of
the motivation to crime and delinquency. His argument was not that
delinquents and criminals alone are animals, but that we are all ani-
mals, and thus all naturally capable of cor:nmitting criminal acts ..It took
no great study to reveal that children, chickens, a~d dogs o~caslOnaIly
assault and steal from their fellow creatures; that children, c1uckens, and
dogs also behave for relatively long periods in a perfectly moral manner.
Of course the acts of chickens and dogs are not "assault" or "theft," and
such behavior is not "moral"· it is simply the behavior of a chicken or a
dog. The chicken stealing CO;11 from his neighbor knows nothing of the
moral law; he does not wnnt to violate rules; he wants merely to eat
corn. The dog maliciously destroying a pn~ow or felonio~sly ~ssaulting
another dog is the moral equal of the chICken. No ~otlvatI?n ~o de-
viance is required to explain his actS. So, t~o, no specla~ m~tiva~o?- to
crime within the human animal was reqmred to explam Ius crurunal
acts.
Times changed. It was no longer fashionable (.within sociology, at
least) to refer to animal impulses. The control theonst ten~ed more and
more to deemphasize the motivational component of his theory. He
might refer in the beginnino- to "universal human needs," or some such,
but the driving force behind crime and delinquency was rarely alluded
to. At the same time, his explanations of crime and del~nquency in-
creasingly left the reader uneasy. \tVhat, the reader asked, IS the control
theorist assmning? Albert K. Cahen and James F. Short answer the ques-
tion this way:
... il is important to point out one imp~rt~t limita~ion. of both t}'pes of
theory. They [culture conflicl and SOCIal dlSor~amz~tJOn theo~lesl are
both control theories in the sense thatlhey explam delinquency m terms
of the absmce of effective controls. They appear, therefore, to imply a
model of motivation that assumes that the impulse to delinquency is an
inherent characteristic of young people and doe~ not .itscl.f need t? be
explained; it is something that erl1pt~ \,.,rh~n th~!1ild- I.e., mternahzed
cultural restraints or external aulhonty-IS off.
There are several possible and I think reasonable reactions .to this
criticism. One reaction is simply to acknow~cdge the assumphon, to
grant that one is assuming vvhat control theoflsts have always assumed
 22, Travis Hirschi 325
324 Control Theory

tl,ey are by no means deducible from it. Furthermore,

ontro I tIleorY, I' t h .
within the system in question): "There is no reason to assume that only cl' t built-in unusual motivation to the de mquen: e IS
they rare Y Impu e . . h
those who finally commit a deviant act usually have the impulse to do tin to satisfy the same desires, he IS reacting to t e same p~es-
so. It is much more likely that most people experience deviant impulses attemps o~ler boys (as is clear, for example, in the previous quotation
frequently. At least in fantasy, people are much more deviant than they sures Ba • d Piliavin) In other words, if included, these accOllllts of
from n a r a n · th " . I
appear.""2 There is certainly nothing wrong with making such an as- . ti' n would serve the same function in the theory at amma
010 ti va 0 . .
sumption. We are free to assume anything we wish to assume; the truth . ulses" traditionally served: they might acl~ to lts persuaslv~ness
of our theory is presumably subject to empirical test."3 un IP 'bili'ty but they would add little else, smce they do not dlffer-
an d p aUSl, .
A second reaction, involving perhaps something of a quibble, is to entiate delinquents from nondehnquents.. .
defend the logic of control theory and to deny the alleged assumption. d th en control theory remains what It has aJways been, a
h
In teen, ' . "\1\11 d
We can say the fact that control theory suggests the absence of some- . which deviation is not problematic. The questIon. 'y 0
thing causes delinquency is not a proper criticism, since negative rela- I
tleoryIll . d' d
h cl' t7" is simply not the question the theory IS eSlgne to answer.
tions have as much claim to scientific acceptability as do positive t ey 01 t·' • "Why don't we do it?" There is much evidence that we
The ques IOn IS,
relations."" We can also say that the present theory does not impute an would if we dared.
inherent impulse to delinqllency to anyone."5 That, on the contrary, it de-
nies the necessity of such an imputation: "The desires, and other pas-
sions of man, are in themselves no sin. No more are the actions, that
NOTES
proceed from those passions, till they know a law that forbids them."46
A third reaction is to accept the criticism as valid, to grant that a 1. Emile DurIJleim, Sllicide, trans. John A. Spaulding and George Simpson
complete explanation of delinquency would provide the necessary im- (New York: The Free Press, 1951), p. 209. .
petus, and proceed to construct an explanation of motivation consistent 2.
Books have been written on the increa5in~ im,P0rtance of lJlterper~o~aI
with control theory. Briar and Piliavin provide sHuational motivation: ·t· . ty'
senSllVl m adern
m I'lEe According to tlus View, controls from wlthm
· . . d'
"We assume these acts are prompted by short-tenn sihlationally induced have become less important than controls from Without l~ p~o llemg. con-
f . ty Whether or not this observation is tTue as a descnptIOn of his tor-
desires experienced by all boys to obtain valued goods, to portray
. o~e~ds it is true that interpersonal sensitivity has become more
courage in the presence of, or be loyal to peers, to strike out at someone
~~portant'in e:rplaillillg conformity. AI~h?ugh logically it .should also .
who is disliked or simply to 'get kicks. "'·!7 Matza, too, agrees that delin- have become more important in explallli11g nonco~oITmty, t~e OppOSIte
quency cannot be explained simply by removal of controls: has been the case, once again showing that Cohe~ s observ~tion that an
Delinquency is only epiphenomenally action.... [It] is essentially in- ex lanation of conformity should be an exp~anation of deVIance ca~ot
fraction. It is rule-breaking behavior performed by juveniles aware that bttranslated as "an explanation of conformlty ha~ ~o .be an expl~ahon
they are Violating the law and of the nature of their deed, and made . ce" For the view that interpersonal senstllvlty currentl) plays a
o EdeVlan . . W'l!' J
permissible by the neutralization of infractious [!] elements. Thus, reater role than formerly in producing conformity, see I lam:
Cohen and Short are fundamentally right when they insist that social ~ d "Norm Commitment and Conformity to Role-Status Obllga-
control theory is incomplete unless it proVides an impetus by which the ti~~S ~'A/Ilerical1 Tal/mill afSociology, LXVI (1960), 246--258. And, of
potential for delinquency may be realized: w , I see D-\'l'd Riesman Nathan Glazer, and Reucl Denney, Tl/C
course, a so. <I - , '11
The impetus1vfatza provides is a "feeling of desperation," brought on by Loucfy Crowd (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1950), espeCia y
the "mood of fatalism," "the experience of seeing one's self as effect"
rather than cause. In a situation in which manliness is stressed, being
3. i~:t l~'terature on psychopathy is.voluminous. See ~iIliam MC~(Jrd and
J Iv! Cord Tfle Psychopath (pnncelon: D, Van Nostrand, 196 J.
pushed around leads to the mood of fatalism, which in turn produces a 4. J~~ M~ tvlartin and Joseph P. Fitzpalrick, OelillqlltJIt Belw"uior (New York:
sense of desperation. In order to relieve his desperation, in order to cast
Random House, 1964), p. 130. M_
off the mood of fatalism, the boy "makes things happen" -he commits [bid. For additional properties of the psychopalh, see McCord and c
5.
delinquent acts:!9 Cord, The Psychopath, pp, 1-22. .
There are several additional accOlU1ls of "why they do it" that are to Barbara Wootton, Social Science and Socwl PntllOlogy (New York: Macmil-
6.
my mmd persuasive and, at the same time generally compatible with
control theory.5O But whilp ."Ill nF th",,,,,,, ............ ~ .. _L~
---
326 Control Theory
7. liThe logical untenability [of the position that there are forces in man 're-
sistanl to socialization'] was ably demonstrated by Parsons over 30 years
ago, and it is widely recognized that the position is empirically unsOlmd
because it assumes [!] some universal biological drive system distinctly
separate from socialization and social context-a basic and intransigent
human nature" Gudith Blake and Kingsley Davis, "Norms, Values, and
Sanctions/' Hmldbook of Modem Sociology, ed. Robert E. L. Faris [Chicago:
Rand McNally, 1964], p. 471).
8. Emile Dmkheim, lv10rnl Educatioll, trans. Everett K. Wilson and Herman
Schnurer (New York The Free Press, 1961), p. 64.
9. Although attadunent alone does not exhaust the meaning of internaliza-
tion, attachments and beliefs combined would appear to leave only a
small residue of "internal control" not susceptible in principle to direct
measurement.
10. F. Ivan Nye, Family Relntiollsldps and Delinquellt Behnvior (New York:
Wiley, 1958), pp. 5-7.
11. Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "Delinquency as the Failure of Personal and Social
Controls," American Sociological Review, XVI (1951), 196-207. For example,
"Our observations show ... that delinquent recidivists are less often per-
sons with mature ego ideals or nondelinquent social roles" (p. 204).
12. Scott Briar and Irving Piliavin, "Delinquency, Situational Inducements,
and Commitment to Conformity," Social Problems, XIII (1965), 41-42. The
concept "stake in confonnity" was inlroduced by Jackson Toby in his
"Social Disorganization and Stake in Conformity: Complementary Fac-
tors in the Predatory Behavior of Hoodlums," JOl/mal a/Criminal Law,
Crimillolo81j alld Police Science, XLVIII (1957), 12-17. See also his "Hood-
lum or Business Man: An American Dilemma," The Jews, ed. Marshall
Sklare (New York: The Free Press, 1958), pp. 542-550. Throughout the
text, I occasionally use "stake in conformity" in speaking in general of
the strength of the bond to conventional sociely. So used, the concept is
somewhat broader than is true for eiUler Toby or Briar and Piliavin, where
the concept is roughly equivalent to what is here called "commitment."
13. Thomas Hobbes, Leviatfw/I (Oxford: Basil Blackv.rell, 1957), p. 195.
14. Howard S. Becker, "Notes on the Concept of Commitment," American
IOllrHnl of Sociolog1j, LXVI (1960), pp. 35--36.
15. Arthur L. Stinchcombe, Rebellion ill a High School (Chicago: Quadrangle,
1964) p.5.
16. Richard A. Cloward and Lloyd E. Ohlin, DeliHqllellctj and Opportullity
(New York: The Free Press, 1960), p. 147, quoting Edwin H. Sutherland,
ed., The Professio1tal Thief (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1937),
pp. 211-213.
17. William James, PsycllOlogtj (Cleveland: World Publishing Co., 1948), p. 186.
18. Few activities appear to be so engrossing that they rule out contempla-
tion of alternative lines of behavior, at least if estimates of the amount of
time men spend plotting sexual deviations have any validity.
19. The Sutherland Papers,' ed. AJbert K. Cohen et al. (Bloomington, Indiana
UniversitvPrp~".lq,l:jfil n 17
22. Travis Hirschi 327
David Matza and Gresham M. Sykes, "Juvenile Delinquency and Subter-
20.
ranean Values," American Sociological Review, XXVI (1961), pp. 712-719.
21. [bid., p. 718. . .
The starving man stealing the loaf of bread IS the tmage evoked by most
22.
strain theories. In this image, the starving man's belief in the wrongness
of his act is clearly not something that must be explained away. It can be
assumed to be present without causing embarrassment to the explana-
tion.
23. McCord and McCord, The psycllOpatlJ, pp. 12-15.
24. Donald R. Cressey, Other People's MOlley (New York: The Free Press,
1953). . .
25. Gresham M. Sykes and David Matza, "Techniques of Neutralization: A
Theory of Delinquency," Americlln Sociological Review, XXII (1957), pp.
664-670.
26. David Matza, Delinquell'Clj alld Drift (New York: Wiley, 1964), pp. 18~-191.
27. In asserting that Cressey's assumption is invalid with respect ~o delin-
quency, I do not wish to suggest that it is invalid for u:e q~esbon o!~­
bezzlement, where the problem faced by the deviator 15 fatrly speCIfIc
and he can reasonably be assumed to be an upstanding citizen. (Al-
though even here the fact that the embezzler's nonshareable financi~l
problem often results from some sort of h~nky-panky .suggests that ver-
balizations" may be less necessary than mIght otherwise be assumed.)
28. DelillqllellC1j alld Drift, p. 43.
29. This assumption is not, I think, contradicted by the evidence present~d
by Matza against the existence of a delinq~ent sub~ulture. ~ comparmg
the attitudes and actions of delinquents wIth the pICture pamted by
delinquent subculture theorists, ~atza empha~izes -and perha~s exag-
gerates- the extent to which delmquents are tied to the conventional
order. In implicitly comparing delinquents with a superrnoral man, I em-
phasize-and perhaps exaggerate-the extent to which they are not tied
to the conventional order.
30. The position taken here is therefore somewhere betvv~en the :'s~mantic
dementia" and the "neutralization" positions. Assummg vanatlon, the
delinquent is, at the extremes, freer than the neutralization argument as-
sumes. Although the possibility of wide discrepancy between what the
delinquent professes and what he practices still exists, it is presumably
much rarer than is suggested by studies of articulate "psychopaths."
31. The idea that the middle-class boy is less closely tied than the lower-class
boy to his peers has been widely adopted in the literature on delinquen-
cy. The middle-class boy's "cold and rational" relations with his peers
are in sharp contrast with the "spontaneous and warm'.' relations of the
lower-class boy. See, for example, Alberl K. Cohen, Ocll11quC/lt Boys (New
York: The Free Press, 1955), pp. 102-109.
32. The evidence in favor of this proposition is summarized in Seymour M.
Upset and Reinhard Bendix, SocinllvIobilit~~ ill Industrial Societ~ (Berkcley:
University of California Press, 1959), espeCially pp. 249-259. For exam-
• .. _ ~. .." • .'. c" 1
 328 Control Theory
are characterized by an inability to fann intimate relations and are conse-
quently often socially isolated men" (p. 251).
33. Relations between measures of attachment and commitment are exam-
ined in Chapter VllI.
34. Social Mobility, p. 253.
35. Briar and Piliavin, "Sihlational Involvements," p. 45.
36. Jean Piaget, The Moral Judgment of the Child, trans. Marjorie Gabain (New
York: The Free Press, n.d.), p. 10l.
37. Ibid .• p. 379.
38. Durkheim, Moral Education, p. 83.
39. Ibid .• pp 73-79.
40. In the end, Durkheirn distinguishes between a patriotism that leads to
concern for domestic problems and one lhat emphasizes foreign relations
(especially that variety which puts "national sentiment in conflict with
commitments of mankind").
41. See their "Juvenile Delinquency," in Contemporan) Social Problems, ed.
Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet (New York: Harcourt, Brace and
World, 1961). p. 106.
42. Howard S. Becker, Outsiders (New York: The Free Press, 1963), p. 26. See
also Kate Friedlander, The Psycho-Analytic Approach to Juvenile De1il1qllell-
Clj (New York: International Universities Press, 1947), p.7.
43. Cf. Albert K. Cohen, Deviance and Control (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Pren-
tice-Hall, 1966), pp. 59-62.
44. I have frequently heard the statement "it's an absence of something ex-
planation" used as an apparently damning criticism of a sociological the-
ory. While the origins of this view are unknown to me, the fact that such
a statement appears to have some claim to plausibility suggests one of
the sources of uneasiness in the face of control theory.
45. The popular "it's-an-id-argument" dismissal of explanations of deviant
behavior assumes that the founding fathers of sociology somehow
proved that the blood of man is neither wann nor red, but spiritual. The
mtellectual trap springs shut on the counterassumption that innate ag-
gressive-destructive impulses course through the veins, as it should. The
solution is not to accept both views, but to accept neither.
46. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, p. 83. Given the history of the sociological re-
sponse to Hobbes, it is instructive to compare Hobbes' picture of the mo-
tivation behind the deviant act with that painted by Taleott Parsons.
According to Parsons, the motive to deviate is a psychological trait or
need that the deviant carries with him at all times. This need is itself de-
viant: it cannot be satisfied by cOIifonllihj. Social controls enter merely as re-
ality factors that determine the form and manner in which this need will
be satisfied. If one path to deviant behavior is blocked, the deviant will
co.ntinue se~rching until he finds a path that is open. Perhaps because
this.need ~nses from interpersonal conflict, and is thus socially derived,
th~ Image It.p~esents of the deviant as fundamentally immoral, as doing
eVIl becallse It IS evil, has .~een largely ignored by those objecting to the
control theorist's tendency to fall back on natural propensities as a
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 329
source of the energy that results in the activities society defines as
wrong. See Talcott Parsons, Thc Social System (New York: The Free Press,
1951). Chapter 7.
47. Briar and Piliavin, "Situational Inducements," p. 36.
48. DclillqllCIlCY flIld Drift, p. 182.
49. Matza warns US that we cannot take the fatalistic mood out of context
and hope to find important differences between delinquents and other
boys: "That the subcultural delinquent is not significantly different from
other boys is precisely the point" (ibid., p. 89).
50. For example: Carl Werthman, "The Function of Social Definitions in the
Development of Delinquent Careers," Juvenile Oelinque/lC1j and youth
Crime, Report of the President's Commission on Law Enforcement and
Adrnirtistration of Justice (Washington: U5GPO, 1967), pp. 155-170: Jack-
son Toby, "Affluence and Adolescent Crime," ibid., pp. 132-144; James F.
Short, Jr., and Fred L. Strodtbeck, Group Process and Gallg DelillquellC1J
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965), pp. 248-264.
23 The Nature of Criminality: Low Self-Control
MICHAEL R. GOTTFREDSON and TRAVIS HIRSCHI
Theories of crime lead naturally to interest in the propensities of indi-
viduals committing criminal acts. These propensities are often labeled
"criminality." In pure classical theory, people committing criminal acts
had no special propensities. They merely followed the universal ten-
dency to enhance their own pleasure. If they differed from noncrimi-
nals, it was with respect to their location in or comprehension of relevant
sanction systems. For example, the individual cut off from the commu-
nity will suffer less than others from the ostracism that follows crime; the
individual unaware of the nahrral or legal consequences of criminal be-
havior cannot be controlled by these consequences to the degree that
people aware of them are controlled; the atheist will not be as concerned
as the believer about penalties to be exacted in a life beyond death. Clas-
sical theories on the whole, then, are today called control theories, theo-
ries emphasizing the prevention of crime through consequences painful
to the individual.
Although, for policy purposes, classical theorists emphasize legal
consequences, the importance to them of moral sanctions is so obvious
that their theories might well be called underdeveloped social control
theories. In fact, Bentham's list of the major restraining motives-
Reprinted from A Genernl Theory ojCl"ime by lvlichael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi
with the pennission of the publishers, Stanford University Press. © 1990 by the Board of
Trustees of thf' I.p];mrl C;~;Jnfnrrl TI1ninr TInh''''r~;t''
 330 Control Theory
motives acting to prevent mischievous acts-begins with goodwill, love
of reputation, and the desire for amity (1970: 134-36). He goes on to say
that fear of detection prevents crime in large part because of detection's
consequences for "reputation, and the desire for amity" (p. 138). Put an-
other way;. in Bentham's view, the restraining power of legal sanctions in
large part stems from their connection to social sanctions
If crime is evidence of the weakness of social motives, it follows
that criminals are less sodal than noncriminals and that the extent of
their asociality may be determined by the nature and number of their
crimes. Calculations of the extent of an individual's mischievousness is
a complex affair, but in general the more mischievous or depraved U1e
offenses, and the greater their number, the more mischievous Or de-
praved the offender (Bentham 1970: 134-42). (Classical theorists thus
had reason to be interested in the seriousness of the offense. The rele-
vance of seriousness to current theories of crime is not so clear.)
Because classical or control theories infer that offenders are not re-
strained by social motives, it is common to think of them as emphasiz-
ing an asocial human nature. Actually, such theories make people only
as asocial as their acts require. Pure or consistent control theories do not
add criminality (i.e" personality concepts or attributes such as "aggres-
siveness" or "extraversion") to individuals beyond that found in their
criminal acts, As a result, control theories are suspicious of images of
an antisocial, psychopathic, or career offender, or of an offender whose
motives to crime are somehow larger than those given in the crimes
themselves. Indeed, control theories are compatible with the view that
the balance of the total control structure favors conformity, even among
offenders:
For in every man, be his disposition ever so depraved, the social mo-
tives are those which., ,regulate and determine the general tenor of his
life.... The general and standing bias of every man's nature is, there-
fore, towards that side to which the force of the social motives would
determine him to adhere. This being the case, the force of the social
motives tends continually to put an end to that of the dissocial ones; as,
in nalural bodies, the force of friction tends to put an end to that which
is generated by impulse. Time, then, which wears away the force of
the dissocial motives, adds to that of the sociaL [Bentham 1970: 1411
Positivism brought with it the idea that criminals differ from non-
criminals in ways more radical than this, the idea that criminals carry
within themselves properties peculiarly and positively conducive to
crime. [Previously] we examined the efforts of the major disciplines to
identify these properties. Being friendly to both the classical and posi-
tivist traditions, we eX1'ected to end up with a list of individual proper-
Mo" 1'01;"h1.r irlonMharl h" .... nrnnatant To"a" ...... h "" 'lI"ah,1 -in th", rla",..,"";ntlnn
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 331
of "criminality"- such properties as aggressiveness, body build, activ-
ity level, and intelligence. We further expected that we would be able to
connect these individual-level correlates of criminality directly to the
classical idea of crime. As our review progressed, however, we were
forced to conclude that we had overestimated the success of positivism
in establishing important differences between "criminals" and "non-
criminals" beyond their tendency to commit criminal acts. Stable indi-
vidual differences in the tendency to commit criminal acts were clearly
evident, but many or even most of the other differences between of-
fenders and nonoffenders were not as clear or pronounced as our read-
ing of the literature had led us to expect. 1
If individual differences in the tendency to commit criminal acts
(within an overall tendency for crime to decline with age) are at least
potentially explicable within classical theory by reference to the social 10-
cation of individuals and their comprehension of how the world works,
the fact remains that classical theory cannot shed much light on the pos-
itivistic finding (denied by most positivistic theories ... ) that these dif-
ferences remain reasonably stable witlz change in the social location of
individuals and cIJange ill their knowledge of tlte operation DJ sanction systems.
This is the problem of self-control, the differential tendency of people
to avoid criminal acts whatever the circumstances in which they find
themselves. Since this difference among people has attracted a variety of
names, we begin by arguing the merits of the concept of self-control.
SELF.CONTROL AND ALTERNATIVE CONCEPTS
Our decision to ascribe stable individual differences in criminal behav-
ior to self-control was made only after considering several alternatives,
one of which (criminality) we had used before (Hirschi and Gottfredson
1986). Amajor consideration was consistency between the classical con-
ception of crime and our conception of the criminaL It seemed unwise to
try to integrate a choice theory of crime with a deterministic image of the
offender, especially when such integration was unnecessary. In fact, the
compatibility of the classical view of crime and the idea that people dif-
fer in self-control is, in our view, remarkable. As we have seen, classical
theory is a theory of social or external control, a theory based on the
idea that the costs of crime depend on the individual's current location
in or bond to society. What classical theory lacks is an explicit idea of
self-control, the idea that people also differ in the extent to which they
are vulnerable to the temptations of the moment. Combining the two
ideas thus merely recognizes the simultaneous existence of social and m-
divirlllCll rpstrr>ints on hehavior.
 332 Control Theory
An obvious alternative is the concept of criminality. The disadvan_
t~ges of that concept, however, are numerous. First, it connotes caUSa_
tIon or ~eterminism, a fositive tendency to crime that is contrary to
the classIcal model and, In our view, contrary to the facts. "Whereas self-
con~rol suggests that people differ in the extent to which they are re-
sh'amed Iron: criminal acts, criminality suggests that people differ in the
:,xtent to WI:lCh they are compelled to crime. The concept of setf-control
15 thus :onslstent with the observation that criminals do not require or
need c.nme, and the concept of criminality is inconsistent with this ob-
se:vatlOn. By the ~ame toke~, t~e idea of low self-control is compatible
wIth the obse:vat~on that cnmmal acts require no special capabilities,
needs, or mot~vatlOn; they are, in this sense, available to everyone. In
co.nt:ast, the Idea of criminality as a special tendency suggests that
cruruna! acts require speCial people for their performance and enjoy-
~ent. FIr:all!, lack of. r~straint or low self-control allows almost any de-
VIant, cnmmal, eXCItmg, or dangerous act; in contrast, the idea of
criminalit?' COVers only a narrow portion of the apparently diverse acts
engaged m by people at one end of the dimension we are new dis-
cussing.
The con~ept of cons~ience comes closer than criminality to self-
control, and l~ harder to dIsti~guish from it. Unfortunately, that concept
has ~onnota~ons of ~ompulslOn (to conformity) not, strictly speaking,
conSIstent WIth a chOIce model (or with the operation of conscience). It
does not seem to cover the behaviors analogous to crime that appear to
be controlled by nahlral sanctions rather than social or moral sanctions
and in the end it typically refers to how people feel about their act;
rather than to the likelihood that they will or will not commit them.
Thus accide~ts and emplorment instability are not usually seen as pro-
duced by faIlures of conSCIence, and writers in the conscience tradition
do r:ot lJTically make the connection between moral and prudent be-
havlOr. Fmally, conscience is used primarily to summarize the results
of learrrn:g via negati~e reinforcement, and even those favorably dis-
p~sed to Its use have little more to say about it (see, e.g., Eysenck 1977;
Wllson and Hermstein 1985).
We are now in position to describe the nature of self-control the in-
dividual characteristic relevant to the commission of criminal ;cts. We
aSSume that the. n~hlre of this characteristic can be derived directly from
the nature of cnnunal acts. We tl1uS infer from the nature of crime what
peopl~ who. refrain from criminal acts are like before they reach the age
at whIch cnme becomes a lOgical possibility. We then work back fur-
ther to the factors producing their restraint, back to the causes of self-
control. In OUT view, lack of self-control does not require crime and can
be counteracted by situational conditions nr nthpr nmT"lort';oc ,.,.~ J-h ...
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 333
. d· .dual. At the same time, we suggest that high self-control effec-
Ul IVl d · ·t ill b
tively reduces the possibility of c~e-th~t is, u10se po:sess~~ I w e
substantially less likely at all penods of life to engage ID cnmmal acts.
THE ELEMENTS OF SELF.CONTROL
Criminal acts provide immediate gratification of desires. A major char-
acteristic of people with low self-control is theref~re a tendency to re-
and to tangible stimuli in the immediate envlronment, to have a
~~ncrete "here and now" orientation. People with high self-control, in
contrast, tend to defer gratification. .
Criminal acts provide easy or silllple gratification of deslres. They
provide money without work, sex without courtship, revenge.,:ithout
court delays. People lacking self-control also tend to lack dIlIgence,
tenacity, or persistence in a course of action.
Criminal acts are exciting, risky, or thrilling. They involve stealth,
danger, speed, agility, deception, or power. People lac~g self-cont:0l
therefore tend to be adventuresome, active, and phYSIcal. Those WIth
high levels of self-control tend to be cautious, cognitive, and verbal. .
Crimes provide few or 11leager long-term benefits. 111ey are n~t eqUiV-
alent to a job or a career. On the contrary, crimes interfere WIth lo~g­
term commitments to jobs, marriages, family, or friends. People WIth
low self-control thus tend to have unstable marriages, friendships, and
job profiles. They tend to be little interested in and unprepared for long-
term occupational pursuits.
Crimes require little skill or plan1ling. The cognitive requirements for
most crUnes are minimal. It follows that people lacking self-control need
not possess or value cognitive or academic skills. The manual ~kills re-
quired for most crimes are minimal. It follows that people lacl~g self-
control need not possess manual skills that reqUlre trammg or
apprenticeship. . . . .
Crimes often result in pai/l or discomfort Jor the VIctIm. Property IS
lost, bodies are injured, privacy is violated, trust is broken. It follows
that people with low self-control tend to be self-centered, indifferent,
or insensitive to the suffering and needs of others. It does not follow,
however, that people with low self-control are routinely unkind or an-
tisocial. On the contrary, they may discover the immediate and easy re-
wards of charm and generosity.
Recall that crime involves the pursuit of immediate pleasure. It fol-
lows that people lacking self-control will also tend to pursue immediate
pleasures that are /lot criminal: they will tend to smo~e,. d~k, use drugs,
~ __ l-.1~ I~_ ..... ...,1~;I.4 ...",., , .. ,,~,.,~ ",..,.-I1 .... ,...J,. '::Inrl ono-::>CTO 1n ,[j,rd' ':;OY
334 Control Theory
Crimes require the interaction of an offender with people or their
property. It does not follow that people lacking self-control will tend to
be gregarious or social. However, it does follow that, other things being
equal, gregarious or social people are more likely to be involved in crim-
inal acts.
The major benefit of many crimes is not pleasure but relief from
momentary irritation. The irritation caused by a crying child is often
the stimulus for physical abuse. That caused by a taunting stranger in a
bar is often the stimulus for aggravated assault. It follows that people
with low self-control tend to have minimal tolerance for frustration and
little ability to respond to conflict through verbal rather than physical
means.
Crimes involve the risk of violence and physical injury, of pain and
suffering on the part of the offender. It does not follow that people with
low self-control will tend to be tolerant of physical pain or to be indif-
ferent to physical discomfort. It does follow that people tolerant of phys-
ical pain or indifferent to physical discomfort will be more likely to
engage in criminal acts whatever their level of self-control.
The risk of criminal penalty for any given criminal act is small, but
this depends in part on the circumstances of the offense. Thus, for ex-
ample, not all joyrides by teenagers are equally likely to result in arrest
A car stolen from a neighbor and returned unharmed before he notices
its absence is less likely to result in official notice than is a car stolen
from a shopping center parking lot and abandoned at the convenience of
the offender. Drinking alcohol stolen from parents and consumed in the
family garage is less likely to receive official notice than drinking in the
parking lot outside a concert hall. It follows that offenses differ in their
validity as measures of self-control: those offenses with large risk of
public awareness are better measures than those with little risk.
In sum, people who lack self-control will tend to be impulsive, in-
sensitive, physical (as opposed to mental), risk-taking, short-sighted,
and nonverbal, and they will tend therefore to engage in criminal and
analogous acts. Since these traits can be identified prior to the age of re-
sponsibility for crime, since there is considerable tendency for these
traits to come together in the same people, and since the traits tend to
persist through life, it seems reasonable to consider them as compris-
ing a stable construct useful in the explanation of crime.
THE MANY MANIFESTATIONS OF LOW SELF.CONTROL
Our image of the "offender" suggests that crime is not an automatic or
necessary conseauence of low self-controL It swnzests thOlt m<lnv nnn-
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 335
criminal acts analogous to crime (such as accidents, smoking, and alco-
hol use) are also manifestations of low self-control. Our image therefore
implies that no specific act, type of crime, or form of deviance is unique-
ly required by the absence of self-control. .
Because both crime and analogous behavlOrs stem from low self-
control (that is, both are manifestations of low self-control), they will
all be eno-ao-ed in at a relatively high rate by people with low self controL
Within thee> domain of the crime, then, there will be much versatility
among offenders in the criminal acts in which they engage. .
Research on the versatility of deviant acts supports these predIC-
tions in the strongest possible way. TIle variety of manifestations of low
self-control is immense. In spite of years of tireless research motivated by
a belief in specialization, no credible evidence of specialization has bI~en
reported. In fact, the evidence of offender :e~satility is ~verwhelnung
(Hirschi 1969; Hindelang 1971: Woligang, Flgho, and Sellin 1972; Peter-
silia 1980; Hindelang, Hirschi, and Weis 1981; Rojek and Erikson 1982;
Klein 1984).
By versatility we mean that offenders commit a wide variety of
criminal acts, with no strong inclination to pursue a specific criminal
act or a pattern of criminal acts to the exclusion of others. Most theories
suggest that offenders tend to specialize, whereby such terms as rob-
ber, burglar, drug dealer, rapist, and murderer have predictive or de-
scriptive import. In fact, some theories create offender specialization ~5
part of their explanation of crime. For example, Cloward and Ohhn
(1960) create distinctive subcultures of delinquency around particular
forms of criminal behavior, identifying subcultures specializing in theft,
Violence, or drugs. In a related way; books are written about white-col-
lar crime as though it were a clearly distinct specialty requiring a unique
explanation. Research projects are undertaken for the study of ~rug use,
or vandalism, or teen pregnancy (as though every study of dellnquency
were not a study of drug use and vandalism and teenage sexual behav-
ior). Entire schools of criminology emerge to pursue patterning, se-
quencing, progression, escalation, onset, persistence, and desistance in
the career of offenses or offenders. These efforts survive largely because
their proponents fail to consider or acknowledge the clear evidence ~o
the contrary. Other reasons for survival of such ideas may be found In
the interest of politicians and members of the law enforcement commu-
nity who see policy potential in criminal careers or "career criminals"
(see, e.G., Blumstein et al. 1986).
Oc~asional reports of specialization seem to contradict this point,
as do everyday observations of repetitive misbehavior by particular of-
fenders. Some offenders rob the same store repeatedly over a period of
u ........." .... ,..~,., ..... -1+0,.,..-10 .. "'nrnn'>itQ CPUP ..;ll T;lnoC: nu,::." ~ /'hrj,::.t\ nprinn nf limp.
 336 Control Theory
Such offenders may be called "robbers" or "rapists." However, it should
be noted that such labels are retrospective rather than predictive and
that. they typically ignore a large amount of delinquent or criminal be-
h.avlOf by the same offenders that is inconsistent with their alleged spe-
claIty..Thus, f~r example, the "rapist" will tend also to use drugs, to
cornnut robberIes and burglaries (often in concert with the rape), and to
have a record for violent offens€s other than rape. There is a perhaps
natural tendency on the part of observers (and in official accounts) to
focus on the most serious crimes in a series of events, but this tendency
should not be confused with a tendency on the part of the offender to
specialize in one kind of crime.
Recall that one of the defining features of crime is that it is simple
and easy. Some apparent specialization will therefore Occur because ob-
vious opportunities for an easy score will tend to repeat themselves. An
o~fender. who lives next to a shopping area that is approached by pedes-
trIans .will.have repeat opportunities for purse snatching, and this may
s~ow ID hIS ar~est record. But even here the specific "criminal career"
will tend to qlllckly run its course and to be followed by offenses whose
conten~ and c~ara~ter is likewise determined by convenience and op-
portunity (which 1S the reason why some form of theft is always the
best bet about what a person is likely to do next).
The e~idence that offenders are likely to engage in noncrirninal acts
psyc~ologIcally or theoretically equivalent to crime is, because of the
relatively high rates of these "noncrirninal" acts, even easier to docu-
~ent. Thieves are likely t~ smoke, drink, and slap school at considerably
hIgher rates than nont~eves. Off~nders are considerably more likely
than nonoff~nders to be Involved ID most types of accidents, including
hOlls.ehold fIfes, auto crashes, and unwanted pregnancies. They are also
conSIderably more likely to die at an early age (see, e.g., Robins 1966;
Eysenck 1977; Gottfredson 1984).
Good research on drug use and abuse routinely reveals that the cor-
relates of delinquency and drug use are the same. As Akers (1984) has
noted, "comI?ared to.the abstaining teenager, the drinking, smoking,
and drug-taking teen 1S much more likely to be getting into fights, steal-
mg, hurting other people, and committing other delinquencies." Akers
goes on. to say, "bu~ the v~iation in th~ order in which they take up
these ~mgs lea-:es little basl~ for proposmg the causation of one by the
other. In our VIew, the relation between drug use and delinquency is
not. a causal question. The correlates are the same because drug use and
delmquency ar~ both ~anifestations of an underlying tendency to pur-
sue short-term, unmediate pleasure. 1his underlying tendency (i.e., lack
of self-control) has many manifestations, as listed by Harrison Gough
(1948):
23. tvlichael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 337
unconcern over the rights and privileges of others when re~ogniz~g
them would interfere with personal satisfaction in any way; lffiI?ulslve
behavior, or apparent incongruity between the .s~l?th of the stimulus
and the magnitude of the behavioral response; IDab~ty. to. form deep or
persistent attachments to other persons ?r t? iden?£y ID mt~rperson~
relationships; poor judgment and plaruung ID ~ttammg ~efined goals,
apparent lack of anxiety and dist:ess over s~aal maladjustment .and
unwillingness or inability to conSIder maladjustment qua maladJust-
ment; a tendency to project blame onto o~er~ and to take no respo.n-
sibility for failures; meaningless .pre~ar.lcat~on, often about tnvIal
matters in situations where detection IS mevltable; almo~t ~?mplete
lack of dependability ... and willingness to assume responsIbility; and,
finally, emotional poverty. [po 362]
This combination of characteristics has been revealed in the life his-
tories of the subjects in the famous studies by Lee Robins. Robins is one
of the few researchers to focus on the varieties of deviance and the way
they tend to go together in the lives of those she designates as havn:g
"antisocial personalities." In her words: "We refer to someone who fails
to maintain close personal relationships with anyone ~lse, [who] per-
forms poorly on the job, who is involved in illegal behavIOrs (whether or
not apprehended), who fails to support himself and his dependents
without outside aid, and who is given to sudden changes of plan and
loss of temper in response to what appear to others as minor frustra-
tions" (1978: 255). . .
For 30 years Robins traced 524 children referred to a gwdance clm-
ic in St. Louis, Ivlissouri, and she compared them to a control group
matched on IQ, age, sex, and area of the city. She discovered that, in
comparison to the control group, those people r.eferre~ at an early age
were more likely to be arrested as adults (for a WIde varlety of offenses),
were less likely to get married, were more likely to be divorced, ~ere
more likely to marry a spouse with a behavior problem, were less like-
ly to have children (but if they had children w~re likely ~o have more
children), were more likely to have children WIth behavlOr problems,
were more likely to be unemployed, had considerably more frequ~nt
job changes, were more likely to be on welfare, had fewer contacts WIth
relatives, had fewer friends, were substantially less likely to attend
church, were less likely to serve in the armed forces and m~re likely to
be dishonorably discharged if they did serve, were more hkel~ to ex-
hibit physical evidence of excessive alcohol usc, and were more lIkely to
be hospitalized for psychiatric problems (1966: 42-73).
Note that these outcomes are consistent with four general elements
of our notion of low self-control: basic stability of individual differences
over a long period of tin:e; great v~riability.in the l~inds of cr.imin~l acts
 338 Control Theory
crirnin~l acts; and inability to predict the specific forms of deviance e _
ga~ed ~f whether .cr~al or noncriminal. In our view, the idea of ~
ant~?~la~ personality defined by certain behavioraI consequences is too
POSltiVlShc or deterministic, suggesting that the offender must do certa'
thi~gs gi:ven his ~tisocial personality. Thus we would say only that th~
~ub!ects ID question are more likely to commit criminal acts (as the data
mdlcat~ ~.ey are), ~e cl? not make commission of criminal acts part of
the definition of the mdIvidual with low self-control.
. Be t~s as it may, Robins's retrospective research shows that predic-
~ons der~ved from a concept of antisocial personality are highly Con-
SIstent WIth the results of prospective longitudinal and cross~sectional
research: offenders do not specialize; they tend to be involved in acci-
dents, illness, and ~e.ath at higher rates than the general popUlation;
they tend to have difficulty persisting in a job regardless of the particu-
lar characterIstics of the Job (no job will turn out to be a good job); they
have difficulty acqutrmg and retaining friends; and they have difficulty
meetmg the demands of long-term financial commitments (such as
mortgage~ or car payments) and the demands of parenting.
Seen ID this light, the "costs" of low self-control for the individual
~ay far exceed the costs of his criminal acts. In fad, it appears that crime
IS often among the least serious consequences of a lack of self-control in
terms of the quality of life of those lacking it.
THE CAUSES OF SELF.CONTROL
We know better wh~t d~ficiencies in self-control lead to than where they
come from ..O~e thing IS, however, clear; low self-control is not pro-
duced by trammg, tutelage, or socialization. As a matter of fact all of the
~aracteristics associated with low self-control tend to show themselves
m the ~bs.ence of nurturance, discipline, or training. Given the classical
apprecIatio~ of the causes of human behavior, the implications of this
fact are s~illghtforward: the causes of low self-control are negative rather
th~n pOSItive; self-control is unlikely in the absence of effort, intended or
uruntended, to create it. (This assumption separates the present theory
from most modem theories of crime, where the offender is automali-
cally seen as a produc~?f positive forces, a·creahrre of learning, partic-
ular pressures, or specifIC defect. We will return to this comparison once
our theory has been fully explicated.)
. At this ~oint it would be easy to construct a theory of crime causa-
~on, accordmg to which characteristics of potential offenders lead them
melucta~ly to the c~rrun~ssion o~ criminal acts. Our task at this point
would SImply be to Identifv the hh.lv <:nllrrp<;: nf ;rn ........ I,..,;TO~ ____ !._, .".
23. :Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 339
nee risk-taking, and the like. But to do so would be to follow the path
ge , th dill
tha t has proven so unproductive in the past, the pa ~c~or g to w . c
hi h
criminals commit crimes irrespective of the charadenstics of the setting
or situation.
We can avoid this pitfall by recalling the elements inherent in the de-
cision to commit a criminal act. The object of the offense is clearly plea-
surable, and universally so. Engaging in the act, however, entails some
risk of social, legal, and/ or natural sanctions. Whereas the pleasure at-
tained by the act is direct, obvious and immediate, the pains risked byit
are not obvious, or direct, and are in any event at greater remove from It.
It follows that, though there will be little variability among people in
their ability to see the pleasures of crime, there will be considerable vari-
ability in their ability to calculate potential pains. But the problem goes
further than this: whereas the pleasures of crime are reasonably equally
distributed over the population, this is not true for the pains. Everyone
appreciates money; not everyone dreads parental anger or disappoint-
ment upon learning that the money was stolen. .
So, the dimensions of self-control are, in our view, factors affectmg
calculation of the consequences of one's acts. The impulsive.or short-
sighted person fails to consider the negative or painful consequences
of his acts; the insensitive person has fewer negative consequences to
consider; the less intelligent person also has fewer negative conse-
quences to consider (has less to lose).
No known social group, whether criminal or noncriminal, actively
or purposefully attempts to reduce the self-control of its members. Social
life is not enhanced by low self-control and its consequences. On the
contrary, the exhibition of these tendencies undermines harmonious
group relations and the ability to achieve collective ends. ~e~e f~cts
explicitly deny that a tendency to crime is a product of socIalIzahon,
culture, or positive learning of any sort.
The traits composing low self-control are also not conducive to the
achievement of long-term individual goals. On the contrary, they im-
pede educational and occupational achievement, destroy interpersonal
relations, and undermine physical health and economic well-being. Such
facts explicitly deny the notion that criminality is an alternative route to
the goals otherwise obtainable through legitimate avenues. It follows
that people who care about the interpersonal skill, educational and oc-
cupational achievement, and physical and economic well-being of those
in their care will seek to rid them of these traits.
Two general sources of variation are immediately apparent in t~is
scheme. The first is the variation among children in the degree to wluch
they manifest such traits to begin with. The second is the variation
_ ..• _ •• _ _ _ •• _ , _ ' - _ .• _ ,._ ,, __ ..1 __ •• __ L __ , _I.! _1_ d _________ , __ 1 __ . ___ 1[ ___ L-._ 1
 340 Control Theory
and its consequences and the degree to which they are willing and able
to correct it. Obviously, therefore, even at this threshold level the sources
of low self-control are complex.
There is good evidence that some of the traits predicting subsequent
involvement in crime appear as early as they can be reliably measured,
including low intelligence, high activity level, physical strength, and
adventuresomeness (Glued~ and Glueck 1950; West and Farrington
1973). The evidence suggests that the connection between these traits
and commission of criminal acts ranges from weak to moderate. Obvi-
ously, we do not suggest that people are born criminals, inherit a gene
for criminality, or anything of the sort. In fact, we explicitly deny such
notions .... What we do suggest is that individual differences may have
an impact on the prospects for effective socialization (or adequate con-
trol). Effective socialization is, however, always possible whatever the
configuration of individual traits.
Other traits affecting crime appear later and,seem to be largely
products of ineffective or incomplete socialization. For example, differ-
ences in impulsivity and insensitivity become noticeable later in child-
hood when they are no longer common to all children, The ability and
willingness to delay immediate gratification for some larger purpose
may therefore be assumed to be a consequence of training. Much
parental action is in fact geared toward suppression of impulsive be-
haviof, toward making the child consider the long-range consequences
of acts. Consistent sensitivity to the needs and feelings of others may
also be assumed to be a consequence of training. Indeed, much parental
behavior is directed toward teaching the child about the rights and feel-
ings of others, and of how these rights and feelings ought to constrain
the child's behavior. All of these paints focus our attention on child-
rearing.
CHILD. REARING AND SELF·CONTROL: THE FAMILY
The major" cause" of low self-control thus appears to be ineffective
child-rearing. Put in positive terms, several conditions appear neces-
sary to produce a socialized child, Perhaps the place to begin looking for
these conditions is the research literature on the relation between fami-
ly conditions and delinquency. This research (e.g., Glueck and Glueck
1950; McCord and McCord 1959) has examined the connection between
many family factors and delinquency. It reports that discipline, super-
vision, and affection tend to be missing in the homes of delinquents,
that the behavior of the parents is often "poor" (e,g" excessive drinking
23. Michael R. Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi 341
d or supervision [Glueck and Glueck 1950: 110-11]); and that the
an pat f delm' quents are unusually likely to have criminal records
paren s o , 'Gill "f
Inde ed according to Ivlichael Rutter and Henn er, 0
t1lernseIv e s., ... . . li .
th arental characteristics assocIated WIth delinquency, crmuna ty IS
th: ~ost strikIDg and most consistent" 1984: 182)" '
Such information undermines the many explanations of cnme that
, th famiIv but in this form it does not represent much of an ad-
lonore e P d I 'th f
o o~er the belief of the general public (and those who ea ':1 0-
vance "d f · b . " or
fenders in the criminal justice system) that e. echve up rmgmg
"neulect" in the home is the primary cause of cnm . . e ..
:v
°To put these standard research findings in perspective, e tlu~ It
the conditions necessary for adequate child-reanng
necess ary to define . h th
Th e minimum conditions seem to be these: ID order to teac e
to occur, hiId' b h ' '(2)
child self-control, someone must (1) monitor the c . s e aVlOr,
recognize deviant behavior when it occurs; and (3) p~rush s.uch beha~­
ior. This seems simple and obvious enough. AI.l that 15 r.eqUlred to acti-
vate the system is affection for or investme~t m the. child: The person
who cares for the child will watch his behavlOr, see ~ domg things he
should not do, and correct him. The result may be a cluld more c~pable
of delaying gratification, more sensitive to the interests ~nd desu:es of
others, more independent, more willing to accept restr~mt~ on his ac-
tivity, and more unlikely to use force or violence to attarn his end~.
When we seek the causes of low self-control, we ask where this sys-
tem can go wrong. Obviously, parents do not prefer their childre~ to be
, Il'zed m· the terms described. We can therefore rule out m ad-
unsOCta 'li d b h '
vance the possibility of positive socializa~on to unsoCIa . ze e aVlOr
(as cultural or subcultural deviance theones suggest). Still, the system
can go wrong at anyone of four places. First, the parents may not care
for the child (in which case none of the other conditions ~ould be met);
second, the parents, even if they care, may not have the. time or energy
to monitor the child's behavior; third, the parents, even If they c~e and
monitor, may not see anything wrong with the child's behavlOri.fin~y,
even if everything else is in place, the parents may not have the mcl~a­
tion or the means to punish the child. So, what ma~ appear at hrst
glance to be nonproblematic turns out to be proble~atic. mdeed. M~y
things can go wrong. According to much research m ~nme and delm-
uency, in the homes of problem children many thlI~_gS have gone
~ong: "Parents of stealers do not track ([they] do not mter~;et steal-
, as deviant'}' they do not punish; and they do not care (Patter-
:~' i'980: 81l-<l9; s:e also Glueck and Glueck 1950; McCord and McCord
1959; West and Farrington 1977),
 342 Control Theory
24. LaMar T. Empey 343

NOTE
Patterson, Gerald R. 1980. "Children Who SteaL" In U1Jderstalldil1g Crime, edit-
ed by T. Hirschi and M. Gottfredson (pp. 73-90). Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage.
1. We do not mean to imply th t t hI ' d' ,
f cl cl a 5 a em IVldual differences between f Pelersilia, Joan. 1980. "Criminal Career Research: A Review of Recent Evi-
en ers an nonof!ende.IS are nonexistent. The fact of the rna tt . 0 -
ever, that substantial eVIdence documenting individual cliff er IS, ~ow­ dence." In Crime alld Justice: An Anllual Review of Research, vol. 2, edited by
as clear t~ us as it appears to be to others. The evidence on ::li.
es
15 n~t M. Tonry and N. Morris (pp. 321-79). Chicago: Universily of Chicago Press.
~n e~ce:hon. Here differences favoring nonoffenders have been !:::..e 15 Robins, Lee. 1966. Oevhlllt Childrell Grown Up. Baltimore: Williarns and
an y ocumented (cl. Wilson and Hennstein 1985). - Wilkins,
Rojek, Dean, and Maynard Erickson. 1982. "Delinquent Careers." Criminology,
20: 5-28,
REFERENCES CITED
West, Donald, and David Farrington. 1973. WllD Becomes Delillquent? London:
Akers, Ronald L 1984. "Delinquent Behavi D Heinemann.
Relationship?" T! d 'D /' or, rugs, and Alcohol: What Is the ___ .1977. The DelillqllC1lt Way afLife. London: Heinemann.
. 0 ay 5 e mqllent, 3: 19-47.

B~tlg~~r;.JereLmy.d1970 [17891. All Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Wilson, James Q., and Richard Hermstein. 1985. Crime alld Hlll1la/l Nature.
New York: Simon and Schuster.
n 1011. on ou- The Athlone Press.
' AIfr
BIurns tem, Wolfgang, Marvin, Robert Figlio, and Thorsten Sellin. 1972. DclillqlJellcy ill a
ed, Jacqueline Cahen Jeffery Roth and 0 .
Criminal Careers and "Career Crimi,;als "W: bin D lruty v.-lSher. 1986.
I Birth Cohort. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
my Press. . as gton, .c.: Naoonal Acade-

Cloward, Richard and Lloyd QllIin 1960 '

York: The Free Press. ' . Del11lqllency and Opportllllity. New

Eysenck, Hans. 1977. Crime and Persollality. Rev. ed. London: Paladin.
Glueck, Sheldon, and Eleanor Gl k 1 .
Cambridge Mas . H
, B..
d u.ec .. 950. Unmvelmg Juvenile Delinquency.
arvar UruversIty Press.
Analysis and Critique
Gottfredson Micha 1 198.1 v,' t' .
HMSO.' e. _. IC lIIlS of CrIme: The Dimensiolls of Risk. London:
24 Social Control Theory
Gough, Harrison G 1948. 'lA SOciological Theo of Ps ch " . LAMAR T. EMPEY
Jmmlal DJ Soci%gJj, 53: 359-66. ry Y opathy. Amencflll
The publication of Hirschi's control theory in 1969 was valuable because
Hindelang, Michael J. 1971. "Age, Sex, and the Versatility of D lin
volvements." Social Problems, 18: 522-35. e quent In- it helped to rectify a striking anomaly in academic criminology: the ten-
dency to downgrade the importance of intrafamily relationships. Al-
Hindelang, MichaeJ, Travis Hirschi and Jose h \Ni .
queney. Beverly Hills CaI'f' S ' P eIS. 1981. Measuring Delill- though a host of social scientists in other disciplines had long felt that
, 1 .. age.
these relationships were vital in determining the course of child devel-
HirpSchi, Travis. 1969. Catlses oJ DelinquellC1j- Berkeley' University of Calli ' opment, criminologists had argued, for almost half a century, that they
ress. . Qffila
were relatively unimportant when compared to socioeconomic, racial,
- - . 1986. "The Distinction Between Crime and C' . ' " .. and subcultural factors. They contended that delinquency results not
and Expl~lIatioll: Essays iu HOllor oJGwymle NettIer. e=tyT : ~ntlqlle from the way families are organized, but from the way society is struc-
and R. Silvennan (pp 55--69) N B " Y , , artnagel
. ' . ew runswlck, N.J.: Transaction. tured. Indeed, when considering the most serious problem of all-Iower-
Kle~'1;;alc?~. 1984. "Offense Specialization and Versatility Amon J class male delinquency-intrafamily relationships are of little
rules. Bntlsh Jotlmal oJCriminology, 24: 185-94. g uve-
McCord, WilIiam and Joan M C d '
oJ tile Cambridg~-Somerville' S~tI:yr 195~ O~~gcjllS oJC~jme: ~ Ncu: Evaluation
New Reprinted from LaMar T. Empey, American Deli1lr7111!Ht-y (Homewood, Ill.: Dorsey Press,
. or. olumbla Uruversltv Prp<:.<:. lQA?\ ,,,;!h th", ,~",~,.,.,;~,,; ... ,.... n'1M".-l<""" .. ~h P"I~l;<"h;~~ r" ~h; .. .-l "..l;""~ ~,,~,..,..; .... h~ 1Q01
 importance. Instead, no less than the delinquent boys who are me _
b~rs of them, families are but pawns in the larger scheme of human :_
faIrs.
Follovving the publication of Hirschi's theory, however, research on
----------------------
FIGURE 24.1
_ -------
___________
.. Stake in .....---p.. Conformist
Sodi.11 __---->-- co nfornu'ty bel,aVl'or
bond
the fa~ly began to increase. Nonetheless, it sparked reactions that were
negative as well as positive, ideological as well as scientific. It is a re-
Effective
construction of the delinquency problem that remains very much in con-
tention today. Antisocial socialization
nature ~

1. ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT HUMAN NATURE AND

SOCIAL ORDER
piLaf
socialization Ineffective
socializa han
This contention stems, in no little part, from Hirschi's resurrection of tr ained
.-.res ~ -Jrp-
Freedom
......---p..
Delinquent
.
U ,. lses to devIate behaVlOr
some old, very conservative points of view about human nature; name- irnpll
ly that all people would be delinquent if given the chance. Without ad-
equate socialization, or the presence of social control, delinquent conduct
would be common. Rather than working for years to pay for a car, for
example, people would simply steal one. What children must be taught,
therefore, IS not how to break the law but how to restrain their natural
----- ~------­

impulses and how to be law abiding. 3. POLICY IMPLICATIONS

Meanwhile, Hirschi, like other control theorists, also assumed that
tl:e sO~ial order is characterized by value consensus. People are not di-
VIded mto subcultures according to differing values; rather, most people
agree that crime is bad. Hence, it is only delinquents (and adult crimi-
nals) who defy convention and threaten social stability.
Z. LOGIC AND CONTENT OF CONTROL THEORY
Soci~ control theory is as much a theory of conformity as of delinquen-
cy. Sll~ce all of us are animals at birth who will prey upon others unless
restraIned, we must seek to explain what spells the difference between
deviance and conformity.
The answer is the social bond. If the process of socialization is ef-
fective:-if chil~en are attached to others, committed to long-range
goals, Involved In conventional activities, and believe in the morality
of law-the social bond will develop, a stake in conformity will be cre-
ated, and conformist behavior will result. But if socialization is ineffec-
tive, natural human impulses will remain unrestrained, children will be
free to deviate, and delinquent conduct will be the consequence. (See
Figure 24.1.)
Hirschi' 5 assumption about h:
an nature aside, his version of control
which makes sense to authoriti~s and
theory is the kind of explanatlf their interventions. They can readily un-
upon which they base many °deliI1quents to some kind of family, recom-
derstand the need to reattach .:[1vo1ve them in constructive actiVIties,
roit them to long-ran~e ~oals~ ~lorality of law.
and cultivate their behef m th
ICAf.. ADEQUACY
4. LOGICAL AND EMPIR
. control theory will predict delinquency
Hirschi contends that sOClal and race. Relative to the concepts of at-
across the lines of gender, dasSi eld up rather well. Those elements of
tachment, this contention haS o~ the test of logical and empirical scruti-
the theory which have best sto tl,e idea that attachment to family and
ny are those which (1) stresS difference between confor=ty and de-
school is crucial in spellin g the.tfIl-ent to long-term educational
. and oc-
viance; (2) indicate that CO~tO' rather than a caus~ of, de~in~uent
cupational goals is a barfle .flvolvement in acadeffilc purSUlts, if not
behavior and (3) suggest thatIS1 useful in promoting conformity.
I • _.
other conventional actlvltIes,
346 Con tro! Theory 24. LaMar T. Empcy 347

By contrast, the areas most in question are Hirschi's concepts of somehow sublimate their own feelings of anger, demoralization, and
human nature and social order, and his view of the delinquent as a psy- inadequacy, arm him against the chaos that so often characterizes ghet-
ci10path who lacks compassion and feeling for anyone. Just as cultural to schools, and make algebra and social studies more attractive than life
deviance, strain, and interactionist theories were extreme in painting on the streets. Clearly, theirs was a herculean task for which better in-
delinquents as moral and gregarious people who violate the law only trafamily relations were not the only answer. At the root of their prob-
because they feel compelled to adhere to the expectations of others, so- lems were economic, political, and cultural forces that extended well
cial control theory probably goes too far in the opposite direction. When beyond the limits of their immediate family-forces about which control
it indicates that delinquents are unsocialized predators, it underesti- theory does not provide us with adequate understanding.
mates the role of peers in generating support for delinquent conduct, In addition, research suggests that more privileged families also
overstates the importance of acquired beliefs as barriers to delinquent have problems of a more general type, generated by the impersonal
behaviDr, and leaves unaddressed the issues raised by the economic, character of modern society, the constant struggle for status and be-
political, and racial organization of society. longing, and the economic and ideological changes that can make the
Although attaclunent, commitment, and involvement are barriers role of being a parent seem increasingly less rewarding.
to delinquency, it cannot be said that all juveniles share an equal op- In short, whether we seek to understand the delinquent behavior
portunity to experience these civilizing influences. Why, for example, of either privileged or underprivileged youth, we must combine the in-
is the prototypical perpetrator of violent crime synonymous with the sights provided by control theory with those provided by broader, more
prototypical victim-a young minority male who is a ghetto dweller? structural, theories. Beyond the study of intrafamily and school rela-
Control theory is probably correct in suggesting that he is neither tionships, we must also explore the effects on these institutions by po-
well attached to a stable home life, nor committed to conventional long- litical, economic, and demographic forces. Childhood in American
range goals, nor involved in academic pursuits. Furthermore, control society is designed and organized by all of these social forces.
theory is probably more realistic than culture deviance, strain, or inter-
actionist theories in painting the destructive consequences of a disrupt-
ed social bond. Life for the young urban street dweller is not a romantic REFERENCE
odyssey, characterized by warm companionship and a carefree life. As
Claude Brown put it so eloquently. Brown, Claude
1965 Manchild in the Promised Land, New York: Macmillan.
I remember Johnny saying that the only thing in life a bad nigger was
scared of was living too long. This just meant that if you were going to
be respected in Harlem you had to be a bad nigger; and if you were
going to be a bad nigger, you had to be ready to die. I wasn't ready to
do any of that stuff. But I had to. I had to act crazy.
Sometimes I used to get headaches thinking about it. I used to get
sick. I couldn't get up. And sometimes I'd just jump out of bed and
run out and say, "Cmon, man, let's go steal somethin'[" I'd get Turk,
I'd get TIto, I'd get anybody who was around. I'd say, "Cmon, man,
let's go pull a score." It seemed li1<e the only way I could get away
(1965:127).
Although Brown was, in fact, poorly attached to home and school,
control theory is still unable to encompass the range of forces which
contributed to his delinquent conduct. Being aware of his need for
greater love and understanding from his parents, we also need to know
that they were saddled with a legacy of racial discrimination, poverty,
and injustice. Hence, if they were to do a better job of insulating him
against the destructive infhiences that surrounded him, they had to
 348 Control Theory
Contemporary Application
25 Turning Points in the Life Course: Why Change Matters
to the Study of Crime
JOHN H. LAUB and ROBERT J. SAMPSON
Several years ago we uncovered 60 cartons of case files in the basement
of the Harvard Law School Library. These data constituted the classic
longituetinal study of 500 delinquents and 500 nondelinquents initiated
by Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck in 1940 (see Glueck and Glueck, 1950,
1968). While we were organizing and reconstructing the Gluecks' data,
two important books rocked the field of criminology-Criwe alld HUlIlall
Nature by James Q. Wilson and Richard Hermstein (1985), and A Gen-
eral Theory of Crillle by Michael Gottfredson and Travis Hirschi (1990).
Although certainiy different, the thrust of these books was to redirect
criminological attention to the importance of childhood. For example,
Gottfredson and Hirschi (1990) argue that effective child rearing in the
early formative years of a child's development produces high self-con-
trol, which in turn is a stable phenomenon that inhibits crime through-
out the life course. The work of Wilson and Herrnstein (1985) pushed
the explanation of crime back even earlier in life to constitutional dif-
ferences (e.g., impulsiveness and temperament) in interaction with fa-
milial factors (see also Grasmick et al., 1993; Nagin and Paternoster,
1991).
Ironically, then, as we were resurrecting the Gluecks' data, new life
was breathed into the primary thesis of the Gluecks-childhood tem-
perament and family socialization matter most, and thus the "past is
prologue" (Glueck and Glued" 1968:167). Although attracted to this re-
newed emphasis on the importance of children and families to the ex-
planation of delinquency, we were troubled by the profound questions
raised by the childhood-stability argument. Are differences in child rear-
ing and temperament all we need to know to understand patterns of
Reprinted from "Turning Points in the Life Course: Why Change Matters to the Study of
Crime" by John H. Laub and Rahert J. Sampson, in Criminology and Criminal J1Istice. ©
1993. Reprinted by permission.
An earlier version of this article was presented at the annual meeting of the Ameri-
can Society of Criminology, New Orleans, 1992. We thilllk the reviewers for constructive
criticisms on an earlier draft. Life-history data were derived from the Sheldon and
Eleanor Glueck archives of the Harvard Law School Library, currently on long-term
! .... ",.,~" ~h ... u" .... ~,," ~A •• __ •• D_nn ___ 1... r __ __ _ , n_..I.''''_ r_" __ _
~
25. John H. Laub and RobertJ. Sampson 349
adult crime? Are childhood differences in antisocial behavior invariably
stable? Why does continuity in deviant behavior exist? Perhaps most
important, what about individual change, salient life events, and turning
points in adulthood?
Challenged by these and other questions, we set out to examine
crime and deviance in childhood, adolescence, and adulthood in a way
that recognized the significance of both continuity and change over the
life course. To do so we synthesized and integrated the crirninologicallit-
erature on childhood antisocial behavior, adolescent delinquency, and
adult crime with theory and research on the life course (Sarnpson and
Laub, 1992). By also rethinidng the finetings produced by longitudinal re-
search, we were eventually led to develop an age-graded theory of in-
formal social control to explain crime and deviance over the life span.
We then tested this theory on the longitudinal data we reconstructed
from the Gluecks' study (Sampson and Laub, 1993).
Building on these efforts, we turn to an examination of conceptual
issues relating to continuity and change in antisocial behavior over the
life course. With respect to continuity, we highlight the distinction be-
tween self-selection and cumulative continuity. We then unite the ideas
of state dependence (Nagin and Paternoster, 1991) and cumulative con-
tinuity (Caspi and Moffitt, 1993a, Moffitt, 1993) in delineating a devel-
opmental, sequential model of crime across the life course. With respect
to change, we explicate the relevance of the adult life course and the
various meanings of change. Our major thesis is that social capital and
turning points are important concepts in understanding processes of
change in the adult life course. We illush'ate these concepts using qual-
itative life-history data dravvn from the Gluecks' study. Overall, our goal
is to advance a framework that challenges theories of crime which "pre_
suppose a developmental determinism in which childhood experiences
set the course of later development" (Bandura, 1982:747). To set the
stage, we briefly highlight the theoretical framework on change from
our recent study (Sampson and Laub, ] 993)
AN AGE-GRADED THEORY OF INFORMAL SOCIAL
CONTROL
The central idea of social control theory-that crime and deviance are
more likely when an individual's bond to society is weak or broken-is
an organizing principle in our theory of social bonding over the life
course. 1 Following Elder (1975/ 1985), we differentiate the life course of
~~iv~~u~als on,the ~~si: of ag,e and ~rgue th~t the important i~t.ilutions
 350 Control Theory
However, we emphasize U1€ role of age-graded, infonllal social control as
reflected in the structure of interpersonal bonds linldng members of
society to one another and to wider social institutions (e.g., work, fam-
ily, school). Unlike formal sanctions that originate in purposeful efforts
to control crime, informal social controls "emerge as by-products of role
relationships established for other purposes and are components of role
reciprocities" (Kornhauser, 1978:24).
Although rejecting the "ontogenetic" approach dominant in devel-
opmental psychology (see Dannefer, 1984), our theoretical framework
nonetheless follows a developmental strategy (Loeber and LeBlanc,
1990; Patterson et al., 1989). The specific developmental approach we
take views causality as "best represented by a development network of
causal factors" in which dependent variables become independent vari-
ables over time (Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:433). Moreover, develop-
mental criminology recognizes both continuity and within-individual
changes over time, focusing on "life transitions and developmental co-
variates ...which may mediate the developmental course of offending"
(Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:451). This strategy has also been referred to as
a "stepping-stone approach" whereby factors are time ordered by age
and assessed with respect to outcome variables (see Farrington, 1986).
A similar orientation can be found in interactional theory as pro-
posed by Thomberry (1987). Interactional theory embraces a develop-
mental approach and argues convincingly that causal influences are
reciprocal over the life course and that delinquency may contribute to
the weakening of social bonds over time. Thomberry's perspective is
also consistent with a person-centered approach to development as pro-
pounded by Magnusson and Bergman (1988:47). Namely, by focusing
explicitly on "persons" rather than "variables" and examining individ-
uallife histories over time (see Magnusson and Bergman, 1988, 1990),
this strategy offers insight into the social processes of intra-individual
developmental change in criminal behavior over the life course.
Although beyond the scope of this analysis, the first building block
in our "sociogenic"developmental theory focuses on the mediating role
of informal family and school social bonds in explaining childhood and
adolescent delinquency (Sarnpson and Laub, 1993: Ch. 4-5). As elabo-
rated more below, the second building block incorporates the subse-
quent continuity in childhood and adolescent antisocial behavior that
extends throughout adulthood across a variety of life's domains (e.g.,
crime, alcohol abuse, divorce, unemployment).
Having provided a role for continuity, we nonetheless believe that
salient life events and social ties in adulthood can counteract, at least
to some extent, the trajeCtories of early child development. Hence, a
./.1-.:_..1 __ ..1 __ ~ __ ./.'\.. __ : __ , _ •• __ .• __ 1 . : . J..'\...~
25. John H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson 351
especially attacJzment to the laborforce and cohesive marriage (or cohabita-
tion)-explain criminal behavior regardless of prior differences in crim-
inal propensity. In other words, we contend that pathways to both crime
and conformity are modified by key institutions of social control in the
transition to adulthood (e.g., employment, military service, and mar-
riage).
In contrast to many life-course models, we emphasize the quality or
strength of social ties in these transitions more than the occurrence or
timing of discrete life events (cf. Loeber and LeBlanc, 1990:430-432). For
example, marriage per se may not increase social control, but close emo'
tional ties and mutual investment increase the social bond betvveen in-
dividuals and, all else equal, should lead to a reduction in criminal
behavior (cf. Shover, 1985:94). Employment by itself also does not nec-
essarily increase social control. It is employment coupled with job sta-
bility, commitment to work, and mutual ties binding workers and
employers that should increase social control and, all else equal, lead
to a reduction in criminal behavior.
In short, our theory attempts to unite continuity and change within
the context of sociological understanding of crime in the life course. A
major concept in our framework is the dynamic process Whereby the
interlocking nature of trajectories and transitions generates tumillg points
or a change in life course (Elder, 1985:32). Adaptation to life events is
crucial because the same event or transition followed by different adap-
tations can lead to different trajectories (Elder, 1985:35). That is, despite
the connection between childhood events and experiences in adulthood,
turning points can modify life trajectories-they can "redirect paths."
For some individuals, turning points are abrupt-radical "turnarounds"
or changes in life history that separate the past from the future (Elder et
al., 1991:215). For most individuals, however, we conceptualize turning
points as "part of a process over time and not as a dramatic lasting
change that takes place at anyone time" (Pickles and Rutter, 1991:134;
see also Clausen, 1990; McAdam, 1989:745; Rutter, 1989a, 1989b). The
process-oriented nature of turning points leads us to focus on incre-
mental change embedded in informal social controls.
To evaluate and refine our theory, we analyzed the na tural histories
of two groups of boys that differed dramatically in childhood antisocial
behavior and delinquency that were followed into adulthood. More
specifically, we reconstructed and examined the life histories originally
gathered by Glueck and Glueck (1950, 1968) of 500 delinquents and 500
control subjects matched on age, IQ, etlmicity, and neighborhood depri-
vation. An exhaustive body of data (e.g., official records, observations,
and personal interviews with subjects, parents, spouses, neighbors, and
• • •:_Il. •.• .l.:~ . .1 .. 1.1 . • • .' _ _ _ 1 __ • __ . \ ••• ____ 11_ ...... _.J . _ ~'\.. ' __ !_ .1: •• : ..l ••• I.!~ .1.!1 .11. _ • .1 • .1.1. _ •• __ _
352 Control Theory
young adulthood, and adulthood. Our analyses involved a multi-
method, multi-measurement scheme that used quantitative and quali-
tative data (see Sampson and Laub, 1993, for details).
DISTINGUISHING SELF. SELECTION FROM
CUMULATIVE CONTINUITY
Critics will argue that individual differences combine with self-selec-
tion to account for patterns of behavior across the life course. In brief,
this counterargument goes as follows: Individuals with an early propen-
sity to crime (e.g., low seli-control) determined mainly by family so-
cialization and individual differences (e.g., impulsiveness) systematically
sort themselves throughout adulthood into states consistent with this
latent trait. For instance, Gottfredson and Hirschi (1990:164-167) argue
that delinquent and impulsive youths will choose deviant spouses, un-
stable jobs, and continue their delinquent ways in adulthood. If true,
the adult life course is merely a setting within which predetermined
lives are played out.
In one sense the self-selection thesis was supported in the Gluecks'
study-adolescent delinquents and nondelinquents displayed signifi-
cant behavioral consistency well into adulthood. Delinquency and other
forms of antisocial conduct in childhood were related not only to adult
crime, but also to troublesome behaviors across a variety of adult do-
mains (e.g., AWOL in the military, economic dependence, marital dis-
cord). This continuity persisted despite the fact that delinquents and
controls were originally matched case-by-case on age, intelligence,
neighborhood, and ethnicity.
The hypothesis of self-selection, however, leads to a more funda-
mental methodological implication--correlations among adult behaviors
(e.g., job instability and crime) are completely spurious and should dis-
appear once controls are introduced for prior individual-level differ-
ences in criminal propensity or low self-control (see Gottfredson and
Hirschi, 1990:154-168). Although rarely examined directly, we believe
the data do not support this spuriousness hypothesis. In particular, our
quantitative analyses revealed independent effects of marital attach-
ment and job stability on adult crime. These results were consistent for
a wide variety of outcome measures, control variables (e.g., childhood
and adolescent antisocial behavior; individual-difference constructs,
such as IQ, self-control, mesomorphy, and personality), and analytic
techniques-including methods that account for persistent unobserved
heterogeneity in criminal orooensitv (see NaQ:in and Paternoster. 1991),
25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson 353
Rutter et al. (1990) have also shown tl,e independent explanatory power
of adult marital cohesion on adult deviance, self-selection notwith-
standing.
At the same time, our theory incorporates the causal role of prior
delinquency in facilitating adult crime by integrating the concept of state
dependence (Nagin and Paternoster, 1991) with that of Cllmlllutive conti-
ll11ihJ (Moffitt, 1993). Although tl1.i.s role is potentially direct, we empha-
size a developmental model wherein delinquent behavior has a
systematic, attenuating effect on the social and institutional bonds link-
ing adults to society (e.g., labor force attachment, marital cohesion).
More specifically, the idea of cumulative continuity posits that delin-
quency incrementally mortgages the future by generating negative Con-
sequences for the life chances of stigmatized and institutionalized
youths. For example, arrest and incarceration may spark failure in
school, unemployment, and weak community bonds, in turn increas-
ing adult crime (Tittle, 1988:80). Serious delinquency in particular leads
to the "knifing off" (Caspi and Moffitt, 1993a; Moifitt, 1993) of future
opportunities such U1at participants have fewer options for a conven-
tionallife. The cumulative continuity of disadvantage is thus not only a
result of stable individual differences in criminal propensity, but a dy-
namic process whereby childhood antisocial behavior and adolescent
delinquency foster adult crime through the severance of adult social
bonds. In this view, weak social bonding is a mediating and, hence,
causal sequential link in a chain of adversity betvveen childhood delin-
quency and adult criminal behavior_
The thesis of cumulative continuity was supported in our quantita-
tive analyses. As noted above, job stability and marital attachment in
adulthood were significantly related to changes in adult crime-the
stronger U1e adult ties to work and family, the less crime and deviance
among delinquents and controls. Moreover, social bonds to employ-
ment were directly influenced by state sanctions-incarceration as a ju-
venile and as a young adult had a negative effect on later job stability,
which in turn was negatively related to continued involvement in crime
over the life course. Although we found little direct effect of incarcera-
tion on subsequent criminality, the indirect "criminogenic" effects
through job stability were substantively important. Recent research by
Nagin and Waldfogel (1992) also supports the cumulative continuity
thesis in showing a destabilizing effect of convictions on the labor mar-
ket prospects of a cohort of London boys.
Our synthesis of cumulative continuity and state dependence re-
casts in a structural and developmental framework the original con-
tf'ntinn~ of i;'1hf'linD" tllPnrv-l-hRt nffiri;.1 rPRrtirmc: tn nrim;;ru ,jpvi::mrp
 354 Control Theory
(e.g., arrest) may create problems of adjustment (e.g., unemployment)
that foster additional crime in the form of secondary deviance (Becker,
1963; Lemert, 1951; Tittle, 1988). AB Becker (1963:24-39) has argued, the
concept of a deviant career suggests a stable pattern of deviant behavior,
which is sustained by the labeling process. More recently, Hagan and
Palloni (1990) suggested that continuity in delinquent behavior may re-
sult from a structural imputation process that begins early in childhood
(see also Tittie, 1988:78-81). They show that this process may even extend
across generations, thereby explaining the effects of parental conviction
on sons' delinquency regardless of family background and propensity to
crime.
CUMULATIVE DISADVANTAGE AND STRUCTURAL BACKGROUND
Hagan's (1991) research further suggests that the deleterious effect of
adolescent deviance on adult stratification outcomes is greatest among
lower-class boys, especially as mediated by police contacts. Middle-class
boys who escaped the negative consequences of official Jabeling did not
suffer impairment in adult occupational outcomes as a result of their
adolescent delinquency. In other words, avoiding the snares of arrest
and institutionalization provided opportunities for prosocial attach-
ments among middle-class youths to take finn hold in adulthood. Sim-
ilarly, lessor et al. (1991) show that for middle-class youths, delinquency
is not a major handicap with respect to adult outcomes. These studies
suggest that the concepts of kniHng off and cumulative continuity are
most salient in explaining the structurally constrained life chances of
the disadvantaged urban poor.
In short, there is evidence that cumulative disadvantage, state-de-
pendence, and location in the class structure may interact. Among those
in advantaged positions that provide continuity in social resources over
time, non delinquents and delinquents alike are presumably not just
more motivated, but better able structurally to establish binding ties to
conventional lines of adult activity If nothing else, incumbency in proso-
cial middle-class roles provides advantages in maintaining the status
quo and counteracting negative life events (e.g., last hired, first fired).
Race, class, and crime also pervade the consciousness of American so-
ciety more generally and employers in particular. Consider the wide-
spread perceptions of black as "dangerous" and "criminal" as rationales
by employers for discrimination in hiring (Kirschenman and Necker-
man, 1991). We therefore merge the state-dependence thesis that histor-
ical time matters with a concern for structural location. Quite simply,
the context of where and how long one has been in prior states is crucial
in IIncIpr.<::.t;'lnriino- b+t:>r ",A"j+ AOHa1,.,. ...... ..,... ... "' ..
25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson 355
SELF.SELECTION RECONSIDERED
Our theoretical conceptualization of cumulative continuity and the
causal role of the adult life course does not negate the potential direct or
unmediated effect of self-selection through individual differences. In
other words, by distinguishing self-selection from cumulative continu-
ity, we incorporate the independent effects of early delinquency (or in-
dividual propensity) and the dimensions of adult social bonding on
adult crime. This distinction is consistent with recent research on ho-
mophily in social choices across the life course. For example, Kandel et
a1. (1990) studied mate selection and found considerable homophlly-
deviant individuals tend to select deviant marriage or cohabitation part-
ners (see also Caspi et al., 1990). Nevertheless, social causation emerges
as a crucial factor even in the face of such social selection. As Kandel et
al. (1990:221) state, "Although individual cl,oices are made, in part, as a
function of the individual's prior attributes, values, and personality
characteristics, involvement in the new relationship has further effects
and influences on that individual." Similarly, Rutter et al. (1990) found
homophily in the choice of marital partners but also a substantial effect
of marital cohesion that held after taking planning of marriage partners
into account.
The emergence of significant social causation in tandem with ho-
mophily (or self-selection) undermines the theoretical individualism
that pervades social scientific thought. We believe that an overemphasis
on self-selection stems from a "broadly perpetuated fiction in modern
society" (Coleman, 1990:300):
TIus fiction is that society consists of a set of independent individuals,
each of whom acts to achieve goals that are independently arrived at,
and that the functioning of the social system consists of the combina-
tions of the actions of independent individuals.
Consistent with our theory, social interdependence arises from the fact
that actors have social investments in events and relationships that are
partially under the control of other actors. Hence, the interdependent
web of relations characteristic of social collectivities ensures the opera-
tion of constraints and opportunities in shaping behavior notwith-
standing individual intentions. 2
WHY CHANGE STILL MATTERS
Whether generated by self-selection or cumulative continuity, a focus
on stability is nonetheless insufficient for understanding crime in the
 356 Control Theory
perfect. As the literature on prediction shows, childhood variables tend
to be rat~l~r modest prognostic devices. In fad, a large percentage of
false posItives and false negatives is a common result (see, e.g., Loeber
and Stouthamer-Loeber, 1987; Farrington and Tarling, 1985). The pre-
dl:~O~ literature thus remforces the futility of an invariant or deter-
ITIIDIStiC conception of human development Gessor et al., 1991; Sampson
and Laub, 1992).
Second, and equally important, rank-order correlations and other
c~rnmor: measures of stability refer to the consistency of betvveen-indi-
vIdual differences over time and consequently rely on an aggregate pic-
ture of relative standing. As Huesmann et al. (1984:1131) note, what
remams.stable over time is the position of an individual relative to the
po~u~ahon. Stability coefficients do not measure the heterogeneity of
l~dlVIdual behaviors over time and, hence, do not capture within-indi-
vIdual change.
Life is dynamic; change is clearly possible. Yet the theoretical con-
cept:ralizahon of change has been surprisingly neglected, not just in
crurunology (see Farrington, 1988; Sampson and Laub, 1992) but in de-
velop~ental psychology as well. indeed, in searching the litera hIre, we
found litti~ conceptual work that directly confronts the problem. 3 More-
over, Caspl and Bem (1990:569)have argued that when the term change
does app:ar, It frequen~y. refers to the mere absence of continuity. We
thus consIder more explICitly the meaning of change and how it comes
about.
SOCIAL CAPITAL AND TURNING POINTS
!'1uch of the confusion regarding change centers on the various mean-
mg~ the co~c~pt conveys. According to the 1992 edition of The American
~entage DlctlOnan! of tJlellEnglisl~ Language, one definition of change is
to cause to be dlfferent -to gIve a completely different form or ap-
pearance, to wholly transform or alter. This definition is most closely
related to Caspi and Moffitt's (1993b) notion of "deep" or "real" change
(~.g., ~ ~gh-rate offender who suddenly desists and becomes a produc-
tIve ~l~en). But change can also mean a modification, reshaping, or
t~anSltion from one state, condition, or phase to another. For instance, a
high-rate offender ~ho b~g~s to commit fewer crimes than expected
ba:ed on age and pnor cnmmal propensity changes because his or her
trajectory has been modified. A third meaning of change is exchange or
r~p~acement with another, usually of tile same kind or category. An in-
dIVIdual may change from use of beer and wine to use of marijuana
and cocaine. Or offenders may change from burglary to robbery.
25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert]. Sampson 357
All of this leads us to think of change along a continuum and to in-
vestigate the underlying processes that enable people to change the
course of their lives. We believe this may be accomplished by viewing
the life course as a probabilistic linkage or chain of events (Rutter et al.,
1990) and by unraveling the mechanisms that operate at key turning
points (e.g., when a risk trajectory is recast to a more adaptive path [Rut-
ter, 1987:329]).
In our view, "deep" change and "modified" change are of most in-
terest; both are enhanced when changing roles and environments lead to
social investment or social capital (Coleman, 1988, 1990; Nagin and Pa-
ternoster, 1992) in institutional relationships (e.g., family, work, com-
munity). As Coleman (1990:302) argues, U,e distinguishing feature of
social capital lies in the structure of interpersonal relations and institu-
tionallinkages. Social capital is created when these relations change in
ways that facilitate action. In other words, "social capital is productive,
making possible the achievements of certain ends that in its absence
would not be possible" (Coleman, 1988:98). By contrast, physical capital
is wholly tangible, being embodied in observable material form
(1990:304), and human capital is embodied in the skills and knowledge
acquired by an individual. Social capital is even less tangible, for it is em-
bodied in the relations among persons (1990:304). A core idea, then, is
that independent of the forms of physical and human capital available to
individuals (e.g., income, occupational skill), social capital is a central
factor in facilitating effective ties that bind a person to societal institu-
tions.·1
Linking Coleman's notion of social capital to social control theory,
we have argued that the lack of social capital or investment is one of
the primary features of weak social bonds (Sampson and Laub, 1993;
see also Coleman, 1990:307; Nagin and Paternoster, 1992). The theoreti-
cal task is to identify the characteristics of social relations that facilitate
the social capital available to individuals, families, employers, and other
social actors. One of the most important factors is the closure (i.e., "con-
nectedness") of networks among actors in a social system (Coleman,
1990:318-320). In a system involving employers and employees, for ex-
ample, relations characterized by an extensive set of obligations, expec-
tations, and interdependent social networks are better able to facilitate
social control than are jobs characterized by purely utilitarian objectives
and nonoverlapping social networks. Similarly, the mere presence of a
relationship (e.g., marriage) among adults is not sufficient to produce so-
cial capital, and hence, the idea of social capital goes beyond Simple
structural notions of role change (i.e., married versus not married) to
capture the idea of embeddedness.
358 Control Theory 25. John H. Laub and Roberl J. Sampson 359

Our theory thus maintains that adult social ties are important inso- over time in African-American "old heads," who socialized boys in the
far as they create interdependent systems of obligation and restraint world of work and adulthood more generally. These ethnographies un-
that impose significant costs for translating criminal propensities into ac- derscore variations by race, ethnicity, and shuctural context in social
tion. In this scheme, adults will be inhibited from committing crime to capital and its role in promoting successful transitions to young adult-
the extent that over time they accumulate social capital in their work hood (see also Short, 1990).
and family lives, regardless of delinquent background. By contrast, those Thus, because individual-difference constructs and childhood an-
subject to weak systems of interdependency (see also Braithwaite, 1989) tisocial behavior are independent of adult social capital and structural
and informal social control as an adult (e.g., weak attachment to the context in fundamental respects, another key aspect of our theory is the
labor force or noncohesive marriage) are freer to commit deviance- partial exogenous nature of the adult life course. This conceptualization
even if nondelinquent as a youth. This dual premise enables us to ex- opens the door for turning points that can redirect behavioral trajectories
plain desistance from crime as well as late onset, and it is consistent in the transition to adulthood. To be sure, we are not implying that in-
with Jessor et al.'s (1991:160) argument that change is "as much an out- dividuals in our study became completely different or that they trans-
come of the person's embeddedness in a socially organized and struc- formed their total personality as a result of social bonding in adulthood.
tured context of age-related roles, expectations, demands, and We do not have the data to assess such transformations, nor would we
opportunities as it is of internal dispoSitions and intentions." expect that kind of change to occur given what we know about conti-
We also emphasize the reciprocal nature of social capital invested by nuities over the life course. But we strongly contend that behavioral
employers and spouses. For example, employers often take chances in changes do occur and that adult life-course patterns are not solely the re-
hiring workers, hoping that their investment will payoff. Similarly, a sult of childhood socialization (Bandura, 1982)5
prospective marriage partner may be aware of a potential spouse's de-
viant background but may nonetheless invest his or her future in that
person. This investment by the employer or spouse may in turn trigger A PERSON.BASED, LIFE· HISTORY APPROACH
a return investment in social capital by the employee or other spouse. TO CHANGE
The key theoretical point is that social capital and interdependency are
reciprocal and embedded in the social ties that exist between individu- Our research program has included an intensive qualitative analysis of
als and social institutions. This conception may help explain how change the life-history records for a subset of men from the Gluecks' study (see
in delinquent behavior is initiated (e.g., an employer's taldng a chance Sampson and Laub, 1993: Ch. 9). In contrast to the traditional "variables
on a former delinquent, fostering a return investment in that job, which oriented" approach dominant in criminology and the social sciences at
in turn inhibits the deviant behavior of the employee). large (see especially, Abbott, 1992; Katz, 1988), we have adopted a "per-
Sullivan's (1989) research on gangs in New York also provides in- son oriented" strategy that allows us to explore "patterns or configura-
sight into racial, ethnic, and community differences in the influence of tions of relevant person characteristics in a developmental perspective"
social capital on transitions to work. As they entered young adulthood, (Magnusson and Bergman, 1990:101). This approach enables one to in-
the men in the low-income white neighborhood that Sullivan studied se- vestigate person-environment interactions, sequences of action, and in-
cured better-quality jobs than men in African-American or Hispanic dividual change over lime (see Abbott, 1992; Cairns, 1986; Magnusson
neighborhoods. Whites were also better able to hold onto these jobs, in and Bergman, 1988:47).
part because of their familiarity with the "discipline of the workplace" Consistent with our goal of integrating quantitative and qualitative
gained through personal networks and intergenerational ties (1989:100- methods, we used quantitative results to identify cases for in-depth qual-
105). Networks with the adult community thus differentiated the itative analysis. For example, based on the finding that job stability was
chances of white youths' escaping environmental adversity from those an important predictor of desistance from crime, we selected cases that
of their minority counterparts. In a similar vein, Anderson's Streetwise: displayed high job stability (e.g., upper 15% of the frequency distribu-
Rnce, Class and CJJange in an Urban Com11lunihj (1990) points to the im- tion) in combination with no arrest experiences as an adult. Similarly,
portance of racial differences in intergenerational ties and the salience of we selected cases exhibiting low job stability (e.g., bottom quartile of the
those ties in facilitating 'employment among young males as they enter distribution) and arrest experiences as an adult. When there was suffi-
."..-1"IJ.h,....... ..-l A ..... ..-1 .................... {1QQfl\ ( .... ,.", .......... ; ............. 1-0,.,.. 1 ................ J.h ...... h ............ ..-1 ... ,.,.............. _;~~"_ •• _I-..~~ ~C _~n~n:~ __ ~11 1 .. ,... .. _11 .. ~_ ~I~~ ..l;_.~~ __ l\ .,. ____ ..l~~I .. ,..."
 360 Control Theory
lected them for in-depth analysis (e.g., strong job stability and no of-
fending in adulthood). We used a similar selection procedure for marital
attachment. In total, we reconstructed and examined 70 life histories
from the delinquent sample (see Sampson and Laub, 1993, for details).
Integrating divergent sources of life-history data (e.g., narratives,
interviews), our qualitative analysis was consistent with the hypothesis
that the major turning points in the life course for men that refrained
from crime and deviance in adulthood were stable employment and
good marriages. As an illustration of our thesis, consider the case histo-
ry of a subject we call Charlle 6 Although Charlie had no official arrests
during adulthood (ages 17-32), this pattern sharply contrasted with his
criminal experiences in childhood and adolescence. As a juvenile, Char-
lie had 10 arrests, primarily for larcenies and burglaries. His first arrest
occurred at the age of eight. Moreover, he was incarcerated three times
(his first commitment took place when he was 11), and he spent a total
of 30 months confined in reform schools.
At the age of 18, Charlie joined the U.S. Maritime Service. He was
employed by the same shipping line for two and a half years, working
the eastern seaboard from Canada to Cuba. Once every three months, he
returned home. Charlle gave virtually all of his earnings to his mother to
bank for him. His parole officer speculated that Charlie joined the mer-
chant service to remove himself from detrimental neighborhood influ-
ences that were leading him to delinquency and crime. During this same
period (ages 1B-20), Charlle began a relationship with a woman who
would eventually become his wife. Although classmates together in
high school, they began an active courtship via letters" while Charlie
11
was in the merchant service.
At age 25, Charlie was living with his wife in East Boston. (He was
almost 21 at the time of marriage and his wife was 19.) According to in-
terview data, Charlie was devoted to his wife, and the couple appeared
especially united in their mutual desire to advance economically. Their
goal was to build their own home. Charlie was appreciative of his wife's
cooperation and her enduring help and desire to advance economically.
When asked for reasons for his reformation, he offered, ''I'm married,
older, and settled down now."
This portrait of Charlie's life did not change very much at his age-32
interview. He was living with his wife and two children in a suburb
close to Boston. Charlie appeared happy and was especially devoted to
his two children. In his spare time, he worked on home improvement.
Throughout the age 25-32 period, Charlie worked at one job and had re-
cently been promoted to foreman. He had been a machine operator at
the factory where he now'-acted as the foreman. From interviewer notes,
25. Jolm H. Laub and Robert J. Sampson 361
Charlie was described as an industrious worker with no problems on the
job whatsoever.
1n this article, we further advance the life-history, person-based ap-
proach to uncovering turning points and processes of change. Specifi-
cally, we selected cases for qualitative analyses that demonstrated a
change in social bonds (a general measure combining job stability and
marital attachment) from age 25 to age 32. Our analysis revealed evi-
dence of both incremental and abrupt change. Incremental change usu-
ally occurred over a period of time in the context of an ongoing
relationship or institutional affiliation (e.g., marriage); abrupt change
was linked to a single event (e.g., entering the military). We also exam-
ined the investment processes that are involved as social capital is
formed through the development of strong marital ties. Marital invest-
ment is a reciprocal process between husbands and wives that, if suc-
cessfut encourages desistance from crime because of the strength of the
social relations that are built up in the family. The life history of the sub-
ject we call Tony illustrates these investment processes.
Tony had five arrests during the age of 17-25 period, including ar-
rests for serious crimes such as armed robbery and burglary. He also
served considerable time in penal institutions-32 months from age 20
to 25. Tony's marital situation at ages 17-25 was also rocky. At the time
of his marriage, Tony was 22 and his wife was 17. His wife was in high
school when she became pregnant, an event that precipitated their mar-
riage. Shortly after the marriage, the couple separated on and off. They
continued to experience poor conjugal relations throughout the early
period of their marriage.
Despite marital discord and a record of crime as a young adult, Tony
had no criminal activity (official or unofficial) during the age 25-32 pe-
riod. What accounted for this change in behavior? Inspection of his life-
history material reveals a distinct change in the marital relationship. At
Tony's age-32 interview, his family situation had changed dramatically.
to the point that the couple's conjugal relations were cohesive. Tony was
described as a rather dependent type who clung to his wife. She was
portrayed as a strong, sensible person whose interests were in the home
and in her family. The couple had two sons, and overall there was a
strong "we feeling" in the household.
According to Tony, his reasons for reformation included: (1) "I have
steady work," (2) "I have family responsibilities now," and (3) "I have
learned my lesson"- he feared returning to prison. According to de-
tailed interviewer notes and additional narratives, the strong influence
of Tony's wife was the most important reason for his reform. Indeed,
in what appears to be a form of marital social control seen in other cases
 362 Control Theory
described below, the interviewer wrote that Tany's wife "gives him good
counsel and she sees to it that the subject follows her advice."
Other cases we examined revealed more abrupt change. For instance,
one subject, Fred, had no arrests as an adult although he experienced
five arrests as a juvenile, mainly for burglaries and larcenies. Fred was in-
carcerated in reform school for a period of nine months for his crimes. At
the age of 16, he left school to go to work in order to support his mother
and five siblings. Pred served in the U.S. Maritime Service for about 18
months at ages 17-18. He worked on oil tankers along the East Coast.
Throughout the age 17-25 period, Fred remained single. He was
living with his mother and siblings in Boston at the age-25 interview.
Fred fully supported his mother and two siblings who were still in high
school. According to narrative data in the case file, Fred had refrained
from marriage until his younger siblings were out of high school. He
worked in several unskilled jobs (e.g., an oil and coal truck helper, an ap-
prentice welder, and a factory worker) Over this period. Fred stated that
his "home responsibilities forced him to be a stable and regular worker."
A similar pattern is revealed in Frank's life history. Although he had
eight arrests during the age 17-25 period, Frank emphasized at age 25
that he intended to marry later that year and was making an earnest ef-
fort to reform. He noted how hard it was for him to get a steady job be-
cause of his record. At the age-32 interview, Frank had no official or
unofficial record of criminal behavior. He married and was living with
his wife and child. He worked in a warehouse and, by all accounts, was
a reliable worker (e.g., he had held the same job for the past five years).
Frank did admit to some excessive drinking during the period, but he
claimed that his drinking had tapered off since his marriage. He stated
that his reformation stemmed from a variety of factors: (1) the influence
of his wife-according to the interviewer, "she exerts pressure on the
subject to conform and holds in check his aggression," (2) family re-
sponsibilities, (3) a long period of probation, (4) fairly steady work since
1957, and (5) fear of being "put away."
For George, a more incremental process of change was evident; it
consisted of several circumstances, including leaving the city of Boston,
becoming a parent, and finding a steady job. In his interview, George re-
marked: "Well, for one thing, I got out of Boston-I began to work
steadily, and now I have a family- a son whom I always wanted. My fa-
ther helped me to get back on the road to respectability and he has lived
with us since we moved here. My wife always wanted me to do the
right thing and I try to follow her advice. I got away from the old gang
and the bookie racket which my uncle runs in the city. In a small town
such as this, you have to go straight."
25. Jolm H. Laub and RobertJ. Sampson 363
Another set of cases we examined pointed to the military as a "set-
tling influence" or turning point in the life course (see also Elder, 1986).
Given the available information in the Gluecks' case files, it is hard to
uncover exactly what it was about the military experience that facilitat-
ed a change in behavior. Also, our finding of a positive influence is
somewhat surprising given our results on the continuity of antisocial
behavior from adolescence into adult domains, including misconduct
in the military (see Sampson and Laub, 1993:Ch. 6). However, it is not in-
consistent that the military can function to turn some men's lives
around, even as it disrupts other men's lives (Elder, 1986) or provides yet
another setting for some men to continue their criminal and deviant be-
havior (Gottfredson and Hirschi, 1990:165).
At his age-25 and age-32 interviews, Mickey was living with his
wife and children. TIle subject married when he was almost 22 and his
wife was nearly 21. A strong marital attachment betvveen Mickey and his
spouse centered around their home and children. Mickey joined the US.
Navy while on parole from reform school and remained there for 13
years. According to narrative data, the subject stated that his enlistment
in the military changed his outlook on life. "In the navy I was thrown in
with guys from all over the country; some of them were well educated
and had good backgrounds. I began to see that my thinking was way
out of line and that I was probably wrong. I began to do things their
way and things have gone well ever since."
This experience parallels tllat of another subject who spent a con-
siderable period of time in the navy (seven and a half years) and had
strong bonds to his wife and two sons. Similarly, other subjects in the
study reported that they "matured in the service" or that the "army
taught me a few things." Like Elder (1986), we find that for some men
serving in the military can help surmount childhood disadvantage by re-
casting the past. Bandura (1982:753) argues that encounters in a closed
milieu such as the military "have the grealest potential for branching
persons abruptly into new trajectories of life."
We also examined a subset of men who experienced a significant
decline in social bonding from ages 25 to 32. In these cases, it was diffi-
cult to detect clear turning paints, but nevertheless certain patterns did
emerge. For some men, a decline in job stability was due to changes in
the labor market. Not surprisingly, layoffs, seasonal work, and factory
closings all contributed to the weakening of ties to work For one subject,
his troubles in adulthood started when the company he was working for
"folded." All employees were let go and his "good job" was simply
gone. Macro-level transformations of the economy clearly bear on in-
dividuallives.
364 Control Theory
For several other cases the following scenario emerged. TIle subject
married young, and often the marriage was forced due to pregnancy.
Although prior to marriage there was some evidence of excessive drink-
ing by the subject, the subject's wife claimed that the subject had ma-
tured into his familial responsibilities, and initially the couple got along
well. Work was typically of a seasonal nature (e.g., construction work)
and weather dependent. But as the men became older (and while one
would normally expect an increasing "conformity" or settling down),
ties to marriage and work unraveled. There were separations, followed
by reconciliations, followed by further separations. There was often ev-
idence of physical abuse and nonsupport of children. The subject's wife
objected to the subject's drinking and was not pleased by the financial
uncertainty of seasonal work. 111e subject resented what he perceived to
be "overprotectiveness" on the part of his wife and claimed she
"nagged" him. Often the subject's drinking continued to be a problem,
exacerbated in part by the fact that in certain jobs drinking seemed to be
tolerated or even encouraged so long as one did not drink on the job
(Vaillant, 1983:96-97). As a result, crime and deviance became more pro-
nounced over time due to the severing of social ties to work and family.
IMPLICATIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH
As Clausen (1990) argues, the idea of turning points is an important
concept in the study of lives. Turning points are closely linked to role
transitions, and conceptually, they are helpful in understanding change
in human behavior over the life course. We adapted this perspective to
explore turning points in the lives of a sample of disadvantaged, per-
sistent adolescent delinquents. Some positive turning points in the
course of their lives were cohesive marriage, meaningful work, and serv-
ing in the military. Clear negative turning points were prolonged incar-
ceration, heavy drinking, and subsequent job instability during the
transition to young adulthood.
Having established that change does in fact occur, the key research
question for the future becomes: Why do some individuals change while
others do not? Learning more about turning points-especially in the
transition from adolescence to adulthood-is critical for understanding
the development of social capital and the facilitation of change in life tra-
jectories. For example, what predicts strong marital attachment in adult-
hood? How do troubled youths achieve job stability and a strong
commitment to work as adults? Is military service an effective vehicle
for reshaping the life course of disadvantaged youths? What roles do
structural factors and historical context play in determining strong
bonds to family and work? More generally, how does one explain dif-
ferential change among individuals?
Although these questions are complex and form the basis of our cur-
rent work, we advance some tentative hypotheses. One is simply that
there is an element of luck, randomness, or chance operating throughout
the course of life. Bandura (1982) argues that chance encounters play a
prominent role in shaping life paths. Namely, chance encounters intro-
duce an element of unpreructability in life-course trajectories and there-
by opportunities for change to emerge. As Bandura (1982:749) writes,
'~lthough U1e separate chains of events in a chance encounter have thel!
own causal determinants, their intersection occurs fortuitously rather
than through deliberate plan." A more explicit theorizing of the roles of
chance, "adventitious happenings" (Rutter, 1989b:33) or what short and
Strodtbeck (1965) many years ago called "aleatory" elements, may thus
help to capture dynamic etiological processes.
TI1e confluence of objective and subjective contingencies is also im-
portant in understanding the change process. In all likelihood, transi-
tions involving structural role change, like marriage and employment,
do not have the same meaning for everyone (Rutter, 1989a:20). For ex-
ample, marriage and full-time work provided an opportunity for men in
our study to change the direction of their life-course trajectory, but not
every man saw it that way (see also Oausen, 1990; Elder et al., 1991). In
other words, structural role changes only provide the possibility for
change to occur-its realization is mediated by individual contingen-
cies. Hence, there is a need to conceptualize and measure objective and
subjective elements of turning points. .
Although beyond the scope of this analysis, macro opportunIty
structures for marriage and the lab or market also play central roles. As
recent research on work and occupations shows, employment outcomes
have as much to do with structural features of the labor market (e.g.,
vacancy chains, segmentation of the labor market, ethnic enclaves) as it
does with individual predispositions to work (Rosenbaum, 1984; Rosen-
feld, 1992). Similarly, network and exchange theory emphasize the im-
portance of role multiplexity and interdependence that combine with
other structural features of collective life to introduce numerous av-
enues for positive and negative change (Cook and Whitmeyer, 1992).
As Dannefer (1987:216) argues, most research on life-course transitions
is too quick to attribute continuity to social-psychological processes of
"accentuation" rather than "structured mechanisms of sodal allocation
producing similar differentiating tendencies in successive cohorts .." The
channeling of prior differences and the tendency toward cumulation of
 366 Control Theory
advantage and disadvantage in employment (e.g., increasing inequality
over time) are so general that they have been referred to as the "Matthew
effect" (see Dannefer, 1987:216). Labor market research thus motivates a
deeper appreciation of contextual forces and opportunity structures in
the shaping of the life transitions of young adults.
Relatedly, variations in criminal propensity (e.g., low self-control)
are incomplete as an explanation of adult crime because the latter's re-
alization is dependent on criminal opportunity (e.g., lack of guardian-
ship or surveillance; suitable targets). Ties to work and family in
adulthood restrict many criminal opportunities and thus reduce the
probability that criminal propensities will be translated into action. For
example, those in stable employment and marital relations are typically
subject to more structured routine activities and less free time than those
in unstable roles (see the discussion of free time, types of employment,
and opportunities that facilitate drinking in Vaillant, 1983:96-97). Some
turning points in life may also reflect changes in the availability or prof-
itability of criminal strategies (see Cohen and Machalek, 1988)-'
As noted earlier, cumulative continuity and processes of change are
likely to interact with race and structural location (Hagan, 1991; lessor et
aI., 1991). In particular, there is increasing evidence that the probability
of adolescent risks beconting transmuted into adverse adult circum-
stances is greatest among those in disadvantaged racial and economic
positions. Whether it be environmental traps in the form of unemploy-
ment or arrest, research is needed to specify the dependence of trajecto-
ries on structuralloca tion.
Turning points and developmental change are bounded by histori-
cal context as well. The men in the Gluec1(5' study grew to young adult-
hood in a period of expanding economic opportunities during the 1950s
and 19605. They were also in a position to take advantage of numerous
opportunities offered by the G.!. Bill. Prospects for current cohorts may
not be as promising. The industrial base in America has changed dra-
maticaliy over the past 20 years (Wtlson, 1987), and there has been an in-
crease in global competition and a decline in expectations for upward
social mobility. There is a sense that good jobs are harder to find and
keep today than in previous decades. Moreover, the military may not be
the vehicle out of poverty in the 1990s as it was during the 1940s and
1950s (Elder, 1986). Consistent with the life-course perspective, we thus
stress the importance of conceptualizing and measuring secular change
at the macrosociallevel, especially through explicit cohort comparisons
(see Ryder, 1965). In this regard we believe a central topic for future re-
search is the interaction of turning points with the varying structural
locations and historical contexts within which individuals make the
transition to "miner :ulll1t'hnnrl
25. John H. Laub and Robed J. Sampson 367
CONCLUSION
Our dynamic conceptualization of social capital and informal social con-
trol at once incorporates stability and change in criminal behavior.
Change is central to our model because we propose that variations in
adult crime unexplained by childhood behavior are directly related to
the strength of adult social bonds. Yet, we incorporate the link between
childhood and adult outcomes, positing a cumulative, developmental
process wherein delinquent behavior attenuates the social and institu-
tional bonds linking adults to society (e.g., labor force attachment, mar-
ital cohesion). As such, we theorize that adult social bonds not only
have important effects on adult crime in and of themselves, but help to
explain the probablistic links in the chain connecting early childhood
differences and later adult crime.
Perhaps the key idea is ultimately a simple one-the adult life
course matters, regardless of how one gets there. We do not deny the re-
ality of sell-selection or that persons may sometimes "create" their own
environment. But once in place, those environments take on a history of
their own in a way that invalidates a pure spuriousness or sell-selec-
tion argument. Moreover, the self-selection view of the world is, in our
opinion, much too deterministic and neglects the role of state sanctions,
chance, luck, structural location, historical context, and opportunity
structure in shaping the life course.
In sum, by redirecting attention to the significance of both path-
ways and turning points in the life course, we are optimistic about the
possibilities for a new research agenda that has the potential to unify
heretofore divergent conceptions of stability and change in human de-
velopment. For example, Gotlfredson and lfuschl (1990:177-178; Hirschl
and Gottfredson, 1993) explicitly incorporate the role of opporhmity in
explaining criminal events. If opportunity matters for criminal events,
surely it matters for the establishment of strong employment and mar-
ital bonds. More important, at one point GoUfredson and Hirschi
(1990:115) allow for social control in explaining adolescent delinquency.
In this sense we see some compatibility between our theory and Got-
tfredson and Hirschi's theory, especially if one conceptualizes variations
in social control as partly influenced by variations in self-control (see
also Hirschl, 1992; lfuschl and Gotlfredson, 1993; Nagin and Paternos-
ter, 1992). Therefore, while Gotlfredson and lfuschi (1990) and Wilson
and Hermstein (1985) start off with a similar premise, they offer quite
different possibilities for potential integration with our focus on change
and informal social control across the adult life course. Future research
is needed to examine these possibilities, especially the relative impor-
 368 Control Theory

j
NOTES For the life histories we describe herein, potentially reve~li~g inform~tiQn
6. has been altered slightly in order to protect the confi~ent:tality of subjects
1. The life course has been defined as "pathways through the age diHerentiat_
ed life span" (Elder, 1985:17), in particular the "sequence of culturally de--
(e,g_, the names of the subjects are fictitious). There dId not seem ~o be ~y
pattern in the selection of these case~ WiUl respect ~o IQ, personalIty traIts
j
fined age~graded roles and social transitions that are enacted over time" such as aggressiveness, and early duldhood expenences.,
(Caspi et al., 1990:15). Two central concepts underlie the analysis of !ife- We further recognize that some turning points may provIde the opp?r~u-
course dynamics. A trnjectolY is a pathway or line of development OVer the
life span, such as work life, parenthood, and criminal behavior: Trajectories
7. nit)' for exposure to criminal and deviant pee~networks. Moreover, It IS j
ossible that as social ties to criminal and deVIant networks become
refer to long-term paHems of behavior and aTe marked by a sequence of ;tronger over time, the less likely one is toa~andon them. ,Mo.re research
transitions. Transitions are marked bv life events (e,g., first job or first mar-
riage) that ate embedded in trajectories and evolve over shorter time spans
(Elder, 1985,31-32). See also Sampson and Laub (1992).
js needed on the competing roles of conventional and d,evlanl. pee~ net-
works in generating social capital and the effect of ~n:mg pomts In ,re- j
shaping the structure and relative influence of assoclational nehvorks.
2. Ecological constancy (e.g., community constraints) and continuities in the
interpersonal environment may also underlie individual-level stability. In
other words, behavioral patterns mny show stability Simply because the
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 374 Control Theory

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CHAPTER VI
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Press. bility are not assumed, they focus on the changing and conflicting def-
Vaillant, George initions of the nonns in society and suggest that those of more powerful
1983 The ~atural History of Alcoholism. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard Uni- people may effect changes in individuals' status from nondeviant to de-
verSIty Press. viant Labeling theorists seek to understand three related issues:
Wilson, James Q. and Rkhard Hermstein 1. What forms of behavior are defined as deviance in society?
1985 Crime and Human Nature. New York: Simon & Schuster. 2. Who, among the many who deviate, becomes defined as
Wilson, William Julius deviant?
1987 Th~ Truly .Disadv~tage~: The ~er City, the Underclass, and Public 3. VVhat are the consequences of stigmatizing certain individu-
Policy. Chicago: Uruverslty of Chicago Press. als or activities with a deviant label?
In focusing on these issues, labeling theory deals primarily with what
happens to people after they have been singled out, identified, and
defined as deviants. The thrust of the argument is that public condem-
nation may lock an individual into a deviant role, irrespective of inter-
actional influences or society's structural conditions and controlling
mechanisms.
Labeling theory thus concentrates on the consequences of identify-
ing a person as deviant-a juvenile delinquent, a crook, a junkie, a ho-
mosexual, a troublemaker, and so on. One basic prentise of thls approach
reaches back to Reading 1, in which Emile Durkheim notes that some
people are criminals because a collective definition is attached to them,
110t because of any intrinsic quality of the acts they engage in. What hap-
pens to an individual who has been declared to be different or deviant
j..,." ,... .... ~;.., ...,4+; ....;"'1 "l",hala...",";n :> ,u"r;aMr (a cr l:>uT pnfnrrpTnpnt nffir;;)l<::
 376 Labeling and Deviance
psychiahists)? Just as important, how do labels alter an individual's
self-concept? The answers to such questions incorporate the basic as-
sumptions and research of the labeling approach.
No attempt is made in this approach to explain why individuals
initially engage in certain actions that may be, or have been, defined as
deviant in society. Rather, it stresses the important role of social defini-
~ons and negative social sanctions in pressuring individuals to engage
ID further deviant actions. It uses a "career development" model of de-
viant behavior whereby deviance is the outcome of a process in which
varying stages of initiation, acceptance, commitment, and imprison-
ment in a deviant role are primarily due to the actions of others. De-
viru:ce is therefore not viewed as an objective reality. The designation of
deVIance and the stigmatization of a person as a deviant is situational
and contingent on the reactions of others toward that person's behavior
or status.
The main focus of attention in labeling theory is on how others (the
"definers") react to individuals or acts that these evaluators perceive in
a negative way. It concentrates on the processes involved in making
rules, on the context in which they are applied, and on their effects for
~ose singled out as deviant. Thus, by its emphasis on subjective defin-
Itions of behavior and their consequences for those who are so labeled
labeling theorists further shift attention away from the individual's ac~
tion and toward the ways in which institutionalized processes of social
control and social definitions establish what (and who) is deviant. In
short, it is the definition of an individual's behavior as deviant, rather
than the behavior itself, that can cause a marked change in status that
~ansforrns a person's conception of self and initiates the process of lock-
mg that person into a "deviant career."
In a brief but an eloquent statement from Crime and the Community
(Reading 26), Frank Tannenbaum describes a process involving the sub-
tle transference from a definition of acts committed by an individual as
evil to the description of the i1ldividual as evil. As a result, most of the be-
havior of an individual who has been defined as evil comes to be looked
on with suspicion. And, as the community's definition of an individual
changes from one who occasionally misbehaves to one who is a delin-
quent, so the person's self-definition changes. Tannenbaum sums it up by
noting that "the process of making the criminal, therefore, is a process of
tagging, defining, identifying, segregating, describing, emphasizing,
making .COnsCIOUS an.d .self-conscious; it becomes a way of stimulating,
suggesting, emphaslzmg, and evoking the very traits that are com-
plained of."
The selectio~ from Edwin M. Lemert's Social PatllOlogtj (Reading 27)
proVIdes the mam thrust and theoTPnr<'l] nnpnbti .... n .... 1= ~h .... l ... 'h ... l: __ -_ •.
Labelmg and Deviance 377
edive. He describes a process, based on the effects of labeling, that
sp
transforms an individual's conception . of seIffrom one w h 015. " normal"
into one who has become deviant. . .
According to Lemert, individuals may occasIOnally engage m b e-
havior that has the potential of being de~ed as deviant .or is so d~fined
by others. At this stage, however, ~ere 15 no se~ere soclet~ reactio~ to
the individuals themselves as deVIant. Such pnrnary deVIance, which
may be the result of a variety of factors, does not ~ffect the individuals'
conception of self or their ability to perform SOCIal roles. However, if
the societal reaction to their primary deviance becomes severe enough,
they may be labeled by others and themselves as deviant persons, Then
the opportunity for continuing to play "nor.mal" .social r?les b~cornes
disrupted, with adverse effects on both theIr sOCIa~ relatio~hips and
their self-conception. Because they have been publIcly defined as ab-
normal, they may have no other alternative than to t~ke on .the d~Viant
role as the basis for organizing their lives. At this pomt, theIr deVIation
has become secondary. Their conception of self changes, their opP,ortu_
nity to play conventional roles is limited, and they become more firrnJ.y
entrenched in the role of the deviant.
For Lemert then, the central concern for labeling theory is not to ac-
count for deviance at the primary level. Rather, the process resulting in
societal reaction to primary deviance, which in turn produces secon.dary
deviance, requires study and explanation. Lemert suggests an ~Ight_
step sequential model of interactions leading to secondary deVIance,
which is helpful in demonstrating his conceptual scheme. .
The selection from Outsiders, by Howard S. Becker (Readmg 28),
also focuses attention on sustained (secondary) rather than occasional
(primary) deviance. The crux of Becker's argument is summ~ed in
the statement, "One of the most crucial steps in the process of ~ui1ding
a stable pattern of deviant behavior is likely to be the expenence of
being caught and publicly labeled as a deviant." The effect of this eXpe_
rience is a redefinition of both the person's public identity and private
identity. The final step in stabilizing a deviant identity and the indiVid_
ual's own private identity is likely to be movement mto an orgaruzed de-
viant group. Becker suggests that such groups are, in fact, an outgrowth
of the labeling process. A person so labeled may turn to a group for
moral support to proVide a rationale for deviance, as.well as. technical
support to provide instruction in how to carry on deVIance WIth a illin-
imum of trouble.
In Reading 29, Thomas J. Scheff applies the general principles of la-
beling theory to an analysis of functional (nonorganic~ men~al diSor_
ders. The distinguishing feature of Scheff's approach 15 the Idea that
. • ••• • • • ,. . . . . , . r
378 Labeling and Deviance
deviant behavior in society are clearly categorized. For instance, there
are concisely delineated terms and categories for norm violations such as
crime, prostitution, perversion, homosexuality, and so on. There are,
however, other forms of norm violations that do not fit neatly into any
specific category. According to Scheff, much of the behavior that comes
to be viewed and defined as mental illness falls into this "residual"
category. Since the behaviors that constitute mental illness are so anom-
alous, there is little agreement between both lay people and profession-
als within the field about the criteria used in deciding what mental
illness (and mental health for that matter) is or who is really mentally ill.
Nevertheless, labels describing the behavior of "mad" people do exist,
and when such a label is applied, especially by professionals in the men-
tal health field, it may have the unintended consequence of firmly en-
trenching the individual in the role of a "mentally ill" person.
In the same way that Lemert identifies the function of labeling in the
processes leading from primary to secondary deviance and Becker ar-
gues that being publicly labeled as deviant is a crucial step in building a
deviant identity, Scheff argues that, because of labeling, mental illness
(Le., being viewed as and playing the social role of a mentally ill person)
becomes stabilized. In a series of nine propositions, Scheff draws atten-
tion to how various social processes operate to create stabilized residual
deviance. His theory explicitly states, in Proposition 9, that "labeling is
the single most important cause of careers of residual deviance."
The Analysis and Critique section on labeling theory is a paper by
Milton Mankoff (Reading 30) that takes as its focus of attack the very
point made by Scheff and others concerning the significance of label-
ing as a cause of deviance. Mankoff raises a fundamental question con-
cerning what types of deviance are best explained by labeling theory.
His response to this question leads him to conclude that labeling theory
does not apply to the great range of deviance that its proponents imply
it should, nor is labeling the outstanding factor in deviant careers that
they suggest. He cites numerous research findings from the literature
on labeling to support his criticism.
Among the criticisms of labeling theory raised by Mankoff and oth-
ers is that research has failed to support the hypotheses that stigmati-
zation may lead to deviance in the first place or further a commitment to
deviance if the label is successfuily applied. It is the proposition that la-
beling creates deviance that has led to both the uniqueness and weak-
ness of labeling theory. This is exactly Mankoff's point in his argument
that people engage in deviance (primary deviance) or embark on a de-
viant career (secondary deviance) without having been singled out, stig-
matized, or subjected to mecharusms of social control. What someone is
Labeling and Deviance 379
suspected of being, what they have done, or what they may be doing is
the major factor in the development of an identity as a deviant. B~hav­
ior, rather than labeling, is thus the significant independent varIable
leading to career deviance that continues the process of stigmatization
and identification as a deviant.
Mankoff argues that a fascination with the dynamics of labeling has
left some sociologists with an overly simplistic, restricted approach. to
deviance. He says the labeling model ignores the possibility of genume
commitment to deviance on the part of the rule-breaker, minimizes the
importance of social and psychological factors other than labelinlS.' and
underestimates the successful deterrent effects of social control. TIus lat-
ter point is elaborated on further in Chapter Vill, by John Braithwaite
(Reading 44), who concentrates on the effects of "reintegrative sham-
ing" as a means of social control.
McLorg and Taub's researcl1 (Reading 31) focuses on the central ele-
ment in labeling theory: stigmatization of primary deviance leadmg to
adoption of a deviant identity resulting in secondary deviance or role
engulfment. In this ethnographic study of anorexics and bulimics,. the
authors examine the links between primary deviance, stigmatization,
denial and acceptance of the label, and continued deviance. While bio-
logical and psychological factors undoubtedly contribute to the .devel-
opment of an eating disorder, the authors focus primary attention on
how various social processes influence self-identification and acceptance
of oneself as anorexic or bulirnic. 111ey show how social messages em-
phasizing that women should be concerned with their weight and ap~
pearance influence many women to become thinner as a m~ans of
becoming more attractive and admired. The role models in magazmes, on
television, and in the movies depict a very narrow range of female body
types that are highly valued. Women exhibiting these physical charac-
teristics are often portrayed as successful and in control of their lives. ~
their attempt to confonn to these images and messages, the women m
this study developed an eating disorder. According to McLorg andTaub,
at this primary stage their deviance remained transitory, they ~d n?t
define themselves as having an eating disorder, and their behavlOr did
not affect their ability to interact with others as nondeviant. However,
once they began to exhibit symptoms of an eating disorder such as ~a­
ciation or maintaining a slim figure in spite of ingesting large quantities
of food, and they were labeled by family and friends as anorexic or bu-
limic, their ability to continue to define themselves as nondeviants and
perform social roles became difficult. At this secondary stage, ", .. re-
spondents were ascribed a new status with a different set of role expec-
tations." Once they accepted their new identity, their roles changed
 380 Labeling and Deviance
substantially and efforts directed toward assisting them overcome their
"disorder" further alienated these women-resulting in continned de-
viance and association primarily with other anorexics and bulirnics.
7.6 The Dramatization of Evil
FRANK TANNENBAUM
In the conflict between the young delinquent and the community there
develop two opposing definitions of the situation. In the beginning the
definition of the situation by the young delinquent may be in the form of
play, adventure, excitement, interest, mischief, fun. Breaking windows,
armoying people, running around porches, climbing over roofs, stealing
from pushcarts, playing truant-all are items of play, adventure, excite-
ment. To the community, however, these activities may and often do
take on the form of a nuisance, evil, delinquency, with the demand for
contral, admonition, chastisement, punishment, police court, truant
school. This conflict over the situation is one that arises out of a diver-
gence of values. As the problem develops, the situation gradually be-
comes redetined. The attitude of the community hardens definitely into
a demand for suppression. There is a gradual shift from the definition of
the specific acts as evil to a definition of the individual as evil, so that all
his acts come to be looked upon with suspicion. In the process of iden-
tification his companions, hang-outs, play, speech, income, all his con-
duct, the personality itself, become subject to scrutiny and question.
From the community's point of view, the individual who used to do
bad and mischievous things has now become a bad and unredeemable
human being. From the individual's point of view there has taken place
a similar change, He has gone slowly from a sense of grievance and in-
justice, of being unduly mistreated and punished, to a recognition that
the definition of him as a human being is different from that of other
boys in his neighborhood, his school, street, community. This recognition
on his part becomes a process of self-identification and integration witl"l
the group which shares his activities. It becomes, in part, a process of ra-
tionalization; in part, a simple response to a specialized type of stimulus.
The young delinquent becomes bad because he is detined as bad and
because he is not believed if he is good. There is a persistent demand for
consistency in character. The community cannot deal with people whom
it cannot define. Reputation is this sort of public definition. Once it is es-
tablished, then unconsciously all agencies combine to maintain this de-
Reprinted from Crime IHnl the Comllliinity, by Frank Tannenballm, Copyright © 1938, Co-
lumbia Universitv Prpss_ Flv nf'rmi<;<;inn of jhp nnhli<:.!w ..
finition even when they apparently and consciously altemp' to deny
their own implicit judgment.
j
Early in his career, then, the incipient professional criminal develops
an attitude of antagonism to the regulated orderly life that he is required j
to lead. TIlis attitude is hardened and crystallized by opposition. The
conflict becomes a clash of wills. And experience too often has proved
that threats, punishments, beatings and commihnents to institutions, j
abuse and defamation of one sort or another, are of no avail, Punish-
ment breaks down against the child's stubbornness. What has happened
is that the child has been defined as an "incorrigible" both by his con- j
tacts and by himself, and an attempt at a direct breaking down of will
generally fails.
The child meets the situation in the only way he can, by defiance j
and escape---physical escape if possible, or emotional escape by deri-
sion, anger, contempt, hatred, disgust, tantrums, destructiveness, and
physical violence. The response of the child is just as intelligent and in-
j
telligible as that of the schools, of the authorities. They have taken a
simple problem, the lack of fitness of an institution to a particular child's
needs, and have made a moral issue out of it with values outside the
j
child's ken. It takes on the form of war betvleen hvo wills, and the longer
the war lasts, the more certainly does the child become incorrigible. The
child will not yield because he cannot yield-his nature requires otl1er
j
channels for pleasant growth; the school system or society will not yield
because it does not see the issues involved as between the incompati-
bility of an institution and a child's needs, sometimes physical needs,
j
and will instead attempt to tw"ist the child's nature to the institution
with that consequent distortion of the child which makes an unsocial j
career inevitable. The verbalization of the conflict in tenns of evil, delin-
quency, incorrigibillty, badness, arrest, force, punishment, stupidity, lack
of intelligence, truancy, criminality, gives the innocent divergence of the j
child from the straight road a meaning that it did not have in the be-
ginning and makes its continuance in these same terms by so much the
more inevitable. j
The only important fact, when the issue arises of the boy's inability
to acquire the specific habits which organized institutions attempt to
impose upon him, is that this conflict becomes the occasion for him to j
acquire another series of habits, interests, and attitudes as a substitute.
These habits become as effective in motivating and guiding conduct as
would have been those which the orderly routine social institutions at-
j
tempted to impose had they been acquired. .
This conflict gives the gang its hold, because the gang provides eS-
cape, security, pleasure, and peace. The gang also gives room for the
j
...... nl-nr "rh~rltv lMhirh nbv<:: ~ l;wo-p rnlp in ., r'hjlrl'<:: liff" Thp l'lttpmn~ ro
j
j
j
j
 382 Labeling and Deviance
break up the gang by force merely strengthens it. TI,e arrest of the chil-
dren has consequences undreamed-of, for several reasons.
First, only some of the children are caught though all may be equal-
ly guilty. There is a great deal more delinquency practiced and commit-
ted by the young groups than comes to the attention of the police. The
boy arrested, therefore, is singled out in a specialized treatment. This
boy, no more guilty than the other members of his group, discovers a
world of which he knew little. His arrest suddenly precipitates a series
of institutions, attitudes, and experiences which the other children do
not share. For this boy there suddenly appear the police, the patrol
wagon, the police station, the other delinquents and criminals found in
the police lock-ups, the court with all its agencies such as bailiffs, clerks,
bondsmen, lawyers, probation officers. There are bars, cells, handcuffs,
:riminals. He is questioned, examined, tested, investigated. His history
IS gone into, his family is brought into court. Witnesses make their ap-
pearance. The boy, no different from the rest of his gang, suddenly be-
COmes the center of a major drama in which all sorts of unexpected
characters play important roles. And what is it all about? About the ac-
customed things his gang has done and has been doing for a long time.
In this entirely new world he is made conscious of himself as a different
human being than he was before his arrest. He becomes classified as a
tI~ef, perhaps, and the entire world about him has suddenly become a
different place for him and will remain different for the rest of his life.
THE DRAMATIZATION OF EVIL
The first dramatization of the "evil" which separates the child out of
hi~ ~oup for specialized treatment plays a greater role in making the
crrnunal than perhaps any other experience. It cannot be too often em-
phasized that for the child the whole situation has become different. He
now lives in a different world. He has been tagged. A new and hitherto
nonexistent environment has been precipitated out for him.
The process of making the criminal, therefore, is a process of tag-
ging, defining, identifying, segregating, describing, emphasizing, mak-
mg conscIOUS and self-conscious; it becomes a way of stimulating,
suggesting, emphasizing, and evoking the very traits that are com-
plain~d of. If the theory of relation of response to stimulus has any
mearung, the entire process of dealing with the young delinquent is mis-
chievous in so far as it identifies him to himself or the environment as a
delinquent person.
The person becomes the thing he is described as being. Nor does it
seem to matter whf'thf'r thp \f;ll11::1Hnn ;c n'I",A", 1... .. ~h,...,.,,... ••• 1.._ ••• _ •• 1.1 ...
26. Franlc.: Tannenbaum 383
ish or by those who would reform. In either case the emphasis is upon
the conduct that is disapproved of. The parents or the policeman, the
older brother or the court, the probation officer or the juvenile institu-
tion, in so far as they rest upon the thing complained of, rest upon a
false ground. Their very enthusiasm defeats their aim. The harder they
work to reform the evil, the greater the evil grows under their hands.
The persistent suggestion, with whatever good intentions, works mis-
chief, because it leads to bringing out the bad behavior that it would
suppress. The way out is through a refusal to dramatize the eviL The
less said about it the better. The more said about something else, still
better.
The hard-drinker who keeps thinking of not drinking is doing what
he can to initiate acts which lead to drinking. He is starting with the
stimulus to his habit. To succeed he must find some positive interest or
line of action which will inhibit the drinking series and which by in-
stituting another course of action will bring him to his desired end. 1
The dramatization of the evil therefore tends to precipitate the con-
flict situation which was first created through some innocent malad-
jushnent. The child's isolation forces him into companionship with other
children similarly defined, and the gang becomes his means of escape,
his security. The life of the gang gives it special mores, and the attack by
the community upon these mores merely overemphasizes the conflict al-
ready in existence, and makes it the source of a new series of experi-
ences that lead directly to a criminal career.
In dealing with the delinquent, the criminal, therefore, the important
thing to remember is that we are dealing with a human being who is
responding normally to tile demands, stimuli, approval, expectancy, of
the group with whom he is associated. We are dealing not with an indi-
vidual but with a group.
In a study of 6,000 instances of stealing, with reference to the number of
boys involved, it was found Ulat in 90.4 per cent of the cases two or
more boys were known to have been involved in the act and were con-
sequenUy brought to court. Only 9.6 per cent of all the cases were acts
of Single individuals. Since this study was based upon the number. of
boys brought to court, and since in many cases not all of the boys m-
volved were caught and brought to court, it is certain that the percent-
age of group stealing if; therefore even greater than 90.4 per cent. It
cannot be doubled that delinquency, particularly stealing, almost in-
variably involves two or more persons. 2
That group may be small gang, a gang of children just growing up,
a gang of young "toughs" of nineteen or twenty, or a gang of older crim-
inal of thirty. If we are not dealing with a gang we may be dealing with
r '1 • ,·r , '" ·.1 '" r., . 11 _
 384 Labeling and Deviance
may be dealing with a community. In practice all these factors-the fam-
ily, the gang, and the community-may be important in the develop-
ment and maintenance of that attitude towards the world which makes
a criminal career a normat an accepted and approved way of life.
Direct attack upon the individual in these circumstances is a dubi-
ous undertaking. By the time the individual has become a criminal his
habits have been so shaped that we have a fairly integrated character
whose whole career is in tune with the peculiar bit of environment for
which he has developed the behavior and habits that cause him to be ap-
prehended. In theory isolation from that group ought to provide occa-
~1Or: ~or change in the individual's habit structure. It might, if the
mdlvldual were transplanted to a group whose values and activities
had the approval of the wider community, and in which the newcomer
might hope to gain full acceptance eventually. But until now isolation
has meant the grouping in close confinement of persons whose strongest
common bond has been their socially disapproved delinquent conduct.
ll1us the attack cannot be made without reference to group life.
The attack must be on the whole group; for only by changing its at-
titudes and ideals, interests and habits, can the stimuli which it exerts
upon the individual be changed. Punishment as retribution has failed to
reform, that is, to change character. If the individual can be made aware
of a different set of values for which he may receive approval, then we
may be on the road to a change in his character. But such a change of val-
ues involves a change in stimuli, which means that the criminal's so-
cial world must be changed before he can be changed.
NOTES
1. John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct (New York: Henry Holt and Com-
pany, 1922), p. 35.
2. Clifford R. Shaw and Earl D. Myers, "The Juvenile Delinquent" The IllirlOis
Crime Survey, pp. 662-663. Chicago, 1929.
27. Edwin M. Lernert 385
2.1 Primary and Secondary Deviation
EOWIN M. LEMERT
SOCIOPATHIC INDIVIDUATION
The deviant person is a product of differentiating and isolating process-
es. Some persons are individually differentiated from others from the
time of birth onward, as in the case of a child born with a congenital
physical defect or repulsive appearance, and as in the case of a child
born into la] minority racial or cultural group. Others persons grow to
maturity in a family or in a social class where pauperism, begging, or
crime are more or less institutionalized ways of life for the entire group.
In these latter instances the person's sociopsychological growth may be
normal in every way, his status as a deviant being entirely caused by
his maturation within the framework of social organization and culture
designated as "pathological" by the larger society. This is true of many
delinquent children in our sOciety.l
It is a matter of great Significance that the delinquent child, growing up
in the delinquency areas of the city, has very little access to the cultur-
al heritages of the larger conventional society. His infrequent contacts
with this larger society are for the most part formal and externaL Quite
naturally his conception of moral values is shaped and rnolded by the
moral code prevailing in his play groups and the local community in
which he lives ... the young delinquent has very little appreciation of the
meaning of tile traditions and fonnallaws of society.... Hence the con-
flict between the delinquent and the agencies of society is, in its broad-
er aspects, a conflict of divergent cultures.
The same sort of gradual, unconscious process which operates in
the socialization of the deviant child may also be recognized in the ac-
quisition of socially unacceptable behavior by persons after having
reached adulthood. However, with more verbal and sophisticated
adults, step-by-step violations of societal norms tend to be progressive-
ly rationalized in the light of what is socially acceptable. Changes of
this nature can take place at the level of either overt or covert behavior,
but with a greater likelihood that adults will preface overt behavior
changes with projective symbolic departures from society's norms.
When the latter occur, the subsequent overt changes may appear to be
"sudden" personality modifications. However, whether these changes
are completely radical ones is to some extent a moot point. One writer
holds strongly to the opinion that sudden and dramatic shifts in behav-
ior from normal to abnormal are seldom the case, that a sequence of
Reprinled from Edwin M. Lemert, Social PatllO/ogy (New York: McGraw~HiIl Book Co.,
386 Labeling and Deviance
small preparatory transformations must be the prelude to such appar-
ently sudden behavior changes. This writer is impressed by the day-by-
day growth of "reserve potentialities" within personalities of all
individuals, and he contends that many normal persons carry poten-
tialities for abnormal behavior, which, given proper conditions, can eas-
ily be called into play.'
PERSONALITY CHANGES NOT ALWAYS GRADUAL
This argument is admittedly sound for most cases, but it must be taken
into consideration that traumatic experiences often speed up changes
in personality.3 Nor can the "trauma" in these experiences universally be
attributed to the unique way in which the person conceives of the ex-
perience subjectively. Cases exist to show that personality modifications
can be telescoped or that there can be an acceleration of such changes
caused largely by the intensity and variety of the social stimulation.
Most soldiers undoubtedly have entirely different conceptions of their
roles after intensive combat experience. Many admit to having "lived a
lifetime" in a relatively short period of time after they have been under
heavy fire in battle for tile first time. Many generals have remarked that
their men have to be a little "shooted" or "blooded" in order to become
good soldiers. In the process of group formation, crises and interaction-
al amplification are vital requisites to forging true, role-oriented group
behavior out of individuated behavior.4
The importance of the person's conscious symbolic reactions to his
or her own behavior cannot be overstressed in explaining the shift from
normal to abnormal behavior or from one type of pathological behavior
to another, particularly where behavior variations become systematized
or structured into pathological roles. This is not to say that conscious
choice is a detennining factor in the differentiating process. Nor does it
mean that the awareness of the self is a purely conscious perception.
Much of the process of self-perception is doubtless marginal from the
point of view of consciousness.5 But however it may be perceived, the
individual's self-definition is closely connected with such things as self-
acceptance, the subordination of minor to major roles, and with the mo-
tivation involved in learning the skills, techniques, and values of a new
role. Self-definitions or self-realizations are likely to be the result of sudden
perceptions and thet) are especially significant when they are followed immedi-
ately by overt demonstrations of the new role they symbolize. The self-defin-
ing junctures are critical points of personality genesis and in the special
case of the atypical person they mark a division between two different
types of deviation.
'17. Edwin M. Lemert 387
PRIMARY AND SECONDARY DEVIATION
There has been an embarrassingly large number of theories, often with-
out any relationship to a general theory, advanced to account for various
specific pathologies in human behavior. For certain types of pathology,
such as alcoholism, crime, or stuttering, there are almost as many theo-
ries as there are writers on these subjects. This has been occasioned in no
small way by the preoccupation with the origins of pathological behav-
ior and by the fallacy of confusing original causes with effective causes.
All such theories have elements of truth, and the divergent viewpoints
they contain can be reconciled with the general theory here if it is grant-
ed that original causes or antecedents of deviant behaviors are many
and diversified. This holds especially for the psychological processes
leading to similar pathological behavior, but it also holds for the situa-
tional concomitants of the initial aberrant conduct. A person may come
to use excessive alcohol not only for a wide variety of subjective rea-
sons but also because of diversified situational influences, such as the
death of a loved one, business failure, or participating in some sort of or-
ganized group activity calling for heavy drinking of liquor. Whatever the
original reasons for violating the norms of the comntunitYt they are im-
portant only for certain research purposes, such as assessing the extent
of the "social problem" at a given time or determining the requirements
for a rational program of social control. From a narrower sociological
viewpoint the deyjations are not significant until they are organized
subjectively and transformed into active roles and become the social cri-
teria for assigning status. The deviant individuals must react symboli-
cally to their own behavior aberrations and fix them in their
sociopsychological patterns. The deviations remain primary deviations
or symptomatic and situational as long as they are rationalized or oth-
erwise dealt with as functions of a socially acceptable role. Under such
conditions normal and pathological behaviors remain strange and some-
what tensional bedfellows in the same person. Undeniably a vast
amount of such segmental and partially integrated pathological behav-
ior exists in our society and has impressed many writers in the field of
social pathology.
Just how far and for how long a person may go in dissociating his
sociopathic tendencies so that they are merely troublesome adjuncts of
normally conceived roles is not known. Perhaps it depends upon the
number of alternative definitions of the same overt behavior that he can
develop; perhaps certain physiological factors (limits) are also involved.
However, if the deviant acts are repetitive and have a high visibility,
and if there is a severe societal reaction, which, through a process of
 388 Labeling and Deviance
probability is greatly increased that the integration of existing roles will
be disrupted and that reorganization based upon a new role Of roles
will occur. (The "me" in this context is simply the subjective aspect of the
societal reaction.) Reorganization may be the adoption of another nor-
mal role in which the tendencies previously defined as "pathological"
are given a more acceptable social expression. The other general possi-
bility is the assumption of a deviant role, if such exists; or, more rarely,
the person may organize an aberrant sect or group in which he creates a
special role of his own. Whm {} person begins to employ his deviant belUlvior
01' a role based UpOl1 it as a lIlearlS of dejense, attack, or adjustment to the overt
and covert problellls created by the consequent societaI reaction to him, his de-
viation is secolldary. Objective evidences of this change will be found in
the symbolic appurtenances of the new role, in clothes, speech, posture,
and mannerisms, which in some cases heighten social visibility, and
which in some cases serve as symbolic cues to professionalization.
ROLE CONCEPTIONS OF THE INDIVIDUAL MUST BE
REINFORCED BY REACTIONS OF OTHERS
It is seldom that one deviant act will provoke a sufficiently strong soci-
etal reaction to bring about secondary deviation, unless in the process of
introjection the individual imputes or projects meanings into the social
situation which are not present. In this case anticipatory fears are m-
volved. For example, in a culture where a chHd is taught sharp distinc-
tions between "good" women and "bad" women, a Single act of
questionable morality might conceivably have a profound meaning for
the girt 50 indulging. However, in the absence of reactions by the per-
son's family, ne~ghbors, or the larger community, reinforcing the tenta-
tive "bad-girl" self-definition, it is questionable whether a transition to
secondary deviation would take place. It is also doubtful whether a tem-
porary exposure to a severe punitive reaction by the community will
lead a person to identify himself with a pathological role, unless, as we
have said, the experience is highly traumatic. Mostfrequentty there is a
progressive reciprocal relationship behveen the deviation of the indi-
vidual and the spcietai reaction, witD- a compounding of the societal re-
action out of the minute accretions in the deviant behavior, until a point
is reached where ingrouping and outgrouping between society and the
deviant is manifest.' At this point a stigmatizing of the deviant occurs in
the form of name calling, labeling, or stereotyping.
TIle sequence of interaction leading to secondary deviation is rough-
ly as follows: (1) primary deviation; (2) social penalties; (3) further pri-
mary deviation; (4) stronger penalties and rejections; (5) further devia-
tion, perhaps with hostilities and resentment beginning to focus upon
those doing the penalizing; (6) crisis reached in the tolerance quotient,
expressed in formal action by the community stigmatizing of the de-
viant; (7) strengthening of the deviant conduct as a reaction to the stig-
matizing and penalties; (8) ultimate acceptance of deviant social status
and efforts at adjustment on the basis of the associated role.
As an illustration of this sequence the behavior of an errant school-
boy can be cited. For one reason or another, let us say excessive energy,
the schoolboy engages in a classroom prank. He is penalized for it by the
teacher. Later, due to clumsiness, he creates another disturbance and
again he is reprimanded. Then, as sometimes happens, the boy is
blamed for something he did not do. When the teacher uses the tag "bad
boy" or "mischief maker" or other invidious terms, hostility and re-
sentment are excited in the boy, and he may feel that he is blocked in
playing the role expected of him. Thereafter, there may be a strong temp-
tation to assume his role in the class as defined by the teacher, particu-
larly when he discovers that there are rewards as well as penalties
deriving from such a role. There is, of course, no implication here that
such boys go on to become delinquents or criminals, for the mischief-
maker role may later become integrated with or retrospectively ratio·
nalized as part of a role more acceptable to school authorities? If such a
boy continues this unacceptable role and becomes delinquent, the
process must be accounted for in the light of the general theory of this
volume. There must be a spreading corroboration of a sociopa thic self-
conception and societal reinforcement at each step in the process.
The most significant personality changes are manifest when societal
definitions and their subjective counterpart become generalized. V/hen
this happens, the range of major role choices becomes narrowed to one
general class. B This was very obvious in the case of a young girl who
was the daughter of a paroled convict and who was attending a small
Middle Western college. She continually argued with herself and with
the author, in whom she had confided, that in reality she belonged on
the" other side of the railroad tracks" and that her life could be enor-
mously simplified by acquiescing in this verdict and living according-
ly. While in her case there waS a tendency to dramatize her conflicts,
nevertheless there was enough societal reinforcement or her self-con-
ception by the treatment she received in her relationship with her father
and on dates 10th coHege boys to lend it a painful reality. Once these
boys took her home to the shoddy dwelling in a slum area where she
lived with her father, who was often in a drunken condition, they
abruptly stopped seeing her again or else became sexually presumptive.
 390 Labeling and Deviance
NOTES
1. Shaw, c., The Natural Histonj of a Delinquent Caree,~ Chicago, 1941, pp.
75-76. Quoted by permission of the University of Chicago Press, Chicago.
2. Brown, L. Guy, Social PatllOlogJj, 1942, pp. 44-45.
3. Allport, G., Personality, A Psycl1010gical Interpretatioll, 1947, p.57.
4. Slavson, S. R., An Introduction to Group PsycllOtllCrapy, 1943, pp.lO, 229ff.
5. Murphy, G., PersortalihJt 1947, p. 482.
6. Mead, G., "The Psychology of Punitive Justice," Americall Jounlal of Sociol-
ogy, 23 March, 1918, pp. 577-602.
7. Evidence for fixed or inevitable sequences from predelinquency to crime
is absent. Sutherland, E. H, Principles of Criminology, 1939, 4th ed., p. 202
8. Sutherland seems to say something of this sort in connection with the de-
velopment of criminal behavior. Ibid., p. 86.
28 Ca,.ee,. Deviance
HOWARD S. BECKER
... [T]he.normal development of people in our society (and probably in
any socIety) can be seen as a series of progressively increasing commit-
ments to conventional norms and institutions. The "normal" person,
when he discovers a deviant impulse in himself, is able to check that
impulse by thinking of the manifold consequences acting on it would
produce for him. He has staked too much on continuing to be normal to
allow himself to be swayed by unconventional impulses.
This suggests that in looking at cases of intended nonconformity
we must ask how the person manages to avoid the impact of conven-
tional commitments. He may do so in one of two ways. First of ali, in the
course of growing up the person may somehow have avoided entan-
gling alliances with conventional society. He may, thus, be free to follow
his impulses. The person who does not have a reputation to maintain or
~ conventional job he must keep may follow his impulses. He has noth-
mg staked on continuing to appear conventional.
However, most people remain sensitive to conventional codes of
conduct and must deal with their sensitivities in order to engage in a de-
viant act for the first time. Sykes and Matza have suggested that delin-
Reprinted with the permission of The Free Press, a Djvision of Simon & Schuster from
Outsiders: Studies ill ale Sociology afDeviallce by Howurd S. Bed;er. Copyright © 1963 by
The Free Press; copyright renewed in 1991 by Howard S. Beeker.
28. Howard S. Becker 391
quents actually feel strong impulses to be law-abiding, and deal with
them by techniques of neutralization: "justifications for deviance that
are seen as valid by the delinquent but not by the legal system or society
at large." They distinguish a number of techniques for neutralizing the
force of law-abiding values.
But we are not so much interested in the person who commits a de-
viant act once as in the person who sustains a pattern of deviance over
a long period of time, who makes of deviance a way of life, who orga-
nizes his identity around a pattern of deviant behavior. It is not the ca-
sual experimenters with homosexuality (who turned up in such
surprisingly large numbers in the Kinsey Report) that we want to find
out about, but the man who follows a pattern of homosexual activity
throughout his adult life.
One of the mechanisms that lead from casual experimentation to a
more sustained pattern of deviant activity is the development of de-
viant motives and interests .... Here it is sufficient to say that many kinds
of deviant activity spring from motives which are socially learned. Be-
fore engaging in the activity on a more or less regular basis, the person
has no notion of the pleasures to be derived from it; he learns these in
the course of interaction vvith more experienced deviants. He learns to be
aware of new kinds of experiences and to think of them as pleasurable.
What may well have been a random impulse to try something new be-
comes a settled taste for something already Imown and experienced.
The vocabularies in which deviant motivations are phrased reveal that
their users acquire them in interaction with other deviants. The indi-
vidualleaTHs, in short, to participate in a subculture organized around
the particular deviant activity.
Deviant motivations have a social character even when most of the
activity is carried on in a private, secret, and solitary fashion. In such
cases, various media of communication may take the place of face-to-
face interaction in inducting the individual into the culture .... [P]orno-
graphic pictures ... were described to prospective buyers in a stylized
language. Ordinary words were used in a technical shorthand designed
to whet specific tastes. The word "bondage," for instance, was used re-
peatedly to refer to pictures of women restrained in handcuffs or strait-
jackets. One does not acquire a taste for "bondage photos" without
having learned what they are and how they may be enjoyed.
One of the most crucial steps in the process of building a stable pat-
tern of deviant behavior is likely to be the experience of being caught
and pUblicly labeled as a deviant. Whether a person tal,es this step or
 392 Labeling and Deviance
not depends not so much on what he does as on what other people do,
on whether or not they enforce the rule he has violated. Although I will
consider the circumstances under which enforcement takes place in
SOme detail later, two notes are in order here. First of all, even though no
one else discovers the nonconformity or enforces the rules against it,
the individual who has committed the impropriety may himself act as
enforcer. He may brand himself as deviant because of what he has done
and punish himself in one way or another for his behavior. This is not al-
ways or necessarily the case, but may occur. Second, there may be cases
ill<e those described by psychoanalysts in which the individual really
wants to get caught and perpetrates his deviant act in such a way that it
is almost sure he will be.
In any case, being caught and branded as deviant has important
consequences for one's further social participation and self-image. The
most important consequence is a drastic change in the individual's pub-
lic identity. Committing the improper act and being publicly caught at it
place him in a new status. He has been revealed as a different kind of
person from the kind he Was supposed to be. He is labeled a "fairy,"
"dope fiend," "nut" or "lunatic," and treated accordingly.
In analyzing the consequences of assuming a deviant identity let
us make use of Hughes' distinction between master and auxiliary status
traits. 1 Hughes notes that most statuses have one key trait which serves
to distinguish those who belong from those who do not. Thus the doctor,
whatever else he may be, is a person who has a certificate stating that he
has fulfilled certain requirements and is licensed to practice medicine;
this is the master trait. As Hughes points out, in our society a doctor is
also informally expected to have a number of auxiliary traits: most peo-
ple expect him to be upper middle class, white, male, and Protestant
When he is not there is a sense that he has in some way failed to fill the
bill. Similarly, though skin calor is the master status trait determining
who is Negro and who is white, Negroes are informally expected to
have certain status traits and not to have others; people are surprised
and find it anomalous if a Negro turns out to be doctor or a college pro-
fessor. People often have the master status trait but lack some of the
auxiliClIJ" informally expected characteristics; for example, one may be a
doctor but be female or Negro.
Hughes deals with this phenomenon in regard to statuses that are
well thought of, desired and desirable (noting that one may have the
formal qualifications for entry into a status but be denied full entry be-
cause of lack of the proper auxiliary traits), but the same process occurs
in the case of deviant statuses. Possession of one deviant trait may have
a generalized symbolic value, so that people automatically assume that
if-co l-." ............ ~"',.. ... ~,..n ... ,.. _"-1.. _____ ..1 __ ! __ 1..1_ -'-_!L _ _ 11 ___ ..1L ______ , ••.
28. Howard S. Seeker 393
To be labeled a criminal one need only commit a single criminal of-
fense, and this is all the term formally refers to. Yet the word carries a
number of cormotations specifying auxiliary traits characteristic of any-
one bearing the label. A man who has been convicted of housebreaking
and thereby labeled criminal is presumed to be a person likely to break
into other houses; the police, in rounding up known offenders for in-
vestigation after a crime has been committed, operate on this premise.
Further, he is considered likely to commit other kinds of crimes as well,
because he has shown himself to be a person without "respect for the
law." Thus, apprehension for one deviant act exposes a person to the
likelihood that he will be regarded as deviant or undesirable in other
respects.
There is one other element in Hughes' analysis we can borrow with
profit: the distinction between master and subordinate statuses. 2 Some
statuses, in our society as in others, override all other statuses and have
a certain priority. Race is one of these. Membership in the Negro race, as
socially defined, will override most other status considerations in most
other situations; the fact that one is a physician or middle class or fe-
male will not protect one from being treated as a Negro first and any of
these other things second. TIle status of deviant (depending on the kind
of deViance) is this kind of master status. One receives the status as a re-
sult of breaking a rule, and the identification proves to be more impor-
tant than most others. One will be identified as a deviant first, before
other identifications are made. The question is raised: "What kind of
person would break such an important rule?" And the answer is given:
"One who is different from the rest of us, who cannot or will not act as
a moral human being and therefore might break other important rules."
The deviant identification becomes to controlling one.
Treating a person as though he were generally rather than specifi-
cally deviant produces a self-fulfilling prophecy. It sets in motion several
mechanisms which conspire to shape the person in the image people
have of him. 3 In the first place, one tends to be cut off, after being iden-
tified as deviant, from participation in more conventional groups, even
though the specific consequences of the particular deviant activity might
never of themselves have caused the isolation had there not also been
the public knowledge and reaction to it. For example, being homosexu-
al may not affect one's ability to do office work, but to be known as a ho-
mosexual in an office may make it impossible to continue working there.
Similarly, though the effects of opiate drugs may not impair one's work-
ing ability, to be known as an addict will probably lead to losing one's
job. In such cases, the individual finds it difficult to conform to other
rules which he had no intention or desire to break, and perforce finds
.1 ' . ' __ .1f..1 ___ ! ___ ._!_ '-, ___________ ~. __ 11 'T'L. _ 1.. _________ 1 _._1.._ !_ ...:1 __ ..: •• _..1
 394 Labeling and Deviance
of a "respectable" job by the discovery of his deviance may drift into
unconventional, marginal occupations where it does not make so much
difference. The drug addict finds himself forced into other illegitimate
kinds of activity, such as robbery and theft, by the refusal of respectable
employers to have him around.
When the deviant is caught, he is treated in accordance with the
popular diagnosis of why he is that way, and the treatment itself may
likewise produce increasing deviance. The drug addict, popularly con-
sidered to be a weak-willed individual who cannot forgo the indecent
pleasures afforded him by opiates, is treated repressively. He is forbid-
den to use drugs. Since he cannot get drugs legally, he must get them il-
legally. This forces the market underground and pushes the price of
drugs up far beyond the current legitimate market price into a bracket
that few can afford on an ordinary salary. Hence the treatment of the
addict's deviance places him in a position where it will probably be nec-
essary to resort to deceit and crime in order to support his habit..} The be-
havior is a consequence of the public reaction to the deviance rather
than a consequence of the inherent qualities of the deviant act.
Put more generally, the point is that the treatment of deviants denies
them the ordinary means of carrying on the routines of everyday life
open to most people. Because of this denial, the deviant must of neces-
sity develop illegitimate routines. The influence of public reaction may
be direct, as in the instances considered above, or indirect, a consequence
of the integrated character of the society in which the deviant lives.
Societies are integrated in the sense that social arrangements in one
sphere of activity mesh with other activities in other spheres in particu-
lar ,vays and depend on the existence of these other arrangements. Cer-
tain kinds of work lives presuppose a certain kind of family life....
Many varieties of deviance create difficulties by failing to mesh with
expectations in other areas of life. Homosexuality is a case in point. Ho-
mosexuals have difficulty in any area of social activity in which the as-
sumption of normal sexual interests and propensities for marriage is
made without question. In stable work organizations such as large busi-
ness or industrial organizations there are often points at which the man
who would be successful should marry; not to do so will make it diffi-
cult for him to do the things that are necessary for success in the orga-
nization and will thus thwart his ambitions. The necessity of marrying
often creates difficult enough problems for the normal male, and places
the homosexual in an almost impossible position. Similarly, in some
male work groups where heterosexual prowess is required to retain es-
teem in the group, the homosexual has obvious difficulties. Failure to
meet the expectations of others may force the individual to attempt de-
~.; ........ ~ • • ,. ... H~ ~C ......1..:_ ••: _____ •• 11. ____ 1. _ _ _ ...:_
28. Howard S. Becker 395
Obviously, everyone caught in one deviant act and labeled a de-
viant does not move inevitably toward greater deviance in the way the
preceding remarks might suggest. The prophecies do not always con-
firm themselves, the mechanisms do not always work. What factors
tend to slow down or halt the movement toward increasing deviance?
Under what circumstances do they come into play?
One suggestion as to how the person may be immunized against
increasing deviance is found in a recent study of juvenile delinquents
who "hustle" homosexuals.s These boys act as homosexual prostitutes to
confirmed adult homosexuals. Yet they do not themselves become ho-
mosexual. Several things account for their failure to continue this kind of
sexual deviancy. First, they are protected from police action by the fact
that they are minors. If they are apprehended in a homosexual act, they
will be treated as exploited children, although in fact they are the ex-
ploiters; the law makes the adult guilty. Second, they look on the ho-
mosexual acts they engage in simply as a means of making money that
is safer and quicker than robbery or similar activities. Third, the stan-
dards of their peer group, while permitting homosexual prostitution,
allow only one kind of activity, and forbid them to get any special plea-
sure out of it or to pennit any expressions of endearment from the adult
with whom they have relations. Infractions of these rules, or other de-
viations from normal heterosexual activity, are severely punished by
the boy's fellows.
Apprehension may not lead to increasing deviance if the situation in
which the individual is apprehended for the first time occurs at a point
where he can still choose between alternate lines of action. Faced, for
the first time, with the possible ultimate and drastic consequences of
what he is doing, he may decide that he does not want to take the de-
viant road, and turn back. If he makes the right choice, he will be wel-
comed back into the conventional community; but if he makes the
wrong move, he will be rejected and start a cycle of increasing deviance.
Ray has shown, in the case of drug addicts, how difficult it can be to
reverse a deviant cycle. 6 He points out that drug addicts frequently at-
tempt to cure themselves and that the motivation underlying their at-
tempts is an effort to show nonaddicts whose opinions they respect that
they are really not as bad as they are thought to be. On breaking their
habit successfully, they find, to their dismay, that people still treat them
as though they were addicts (on the premise, apparently, of "once a
junkie, always a junkie").
A final step in the career of a deviant is movement into an orga-
nized deviant group. When a person makes a definite move into an or-
ganized group-or when he realizes and accepts the fact that he has
c __ 1.l.. _ _ _ _ _ 1 _____ _
... 1......... ..I~ • ..1 ..... _'"' r-... ; ... 1-. ... ~ ... ~"""",", ... j::"l .......... ..,,.. .......... h;,.. ,.. ......... ,.. ...........; ......... ( hi rn_
396 Labeling and Deviance

self. A drug addict once told me that the moment she felt she was real- has learned, on the one hand, how to avoid trouble and, on the other
ly "hooked" was when she realized she no longer had any friends who hand, a rationale for continuing. , .
were not drug addicts. One further fact deserves mention. The ratIonales of deVIant groups
Members of organized deviant groups of course have one thing in tend to contain a general repudiation of conventional moral rules, con-
common: their deviance. It gives them a sense of common fate, of being ventional institutions, and the entire conventional world.
in the same boat. From a sense of common fate, from having to face the
same problems, grows a deviant subculture: a set of perspectives and
understandings about what the world is like and how to deal with it, NOTES
and a set of routine activities based on those perspectives. Membership
in such a group solidifies a deviant identity. 1. Everett C. Hughes, "Dilemmas and Contradictions of Status," American
Moving into an organized deviant group has several consequences Journa! of Sociolol'J, L (March, 1945),353-359.
for the career of the deviant. First of all, deviant groups tend, more than 2. Ibid. . Ad
3. See Marsh Ray, "The Cycle of Abstinence and Relapse Among Herotn -
deviant individuals, to be pushed into rationalizing their position. At an diets," So cia! Problems, 9 (Fall, 1961), 132-140. .
extreme, they develop a very complicated historical, legal, and psycho- 4. See Dntg Addiction: Crime 01" Disease? Interim and Final Re~ort5Mol thdealJOlnt
logical justification for their deviant activity. The homosexual communi- Committee of the American Bar Association and the Amencan e lC
ty is a good case. Magazines and books by homosexuals and for Association on Narcotic Drugs {Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University
homosexuals include historical articles about famous homosexuals in his- Press, 1961). " .
tory. They contain legal articles on the biology and physiology of sex, de- 5. Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "The Social Integration of Queers and Peers, Soc1Ol
signed to show that homosexuality is a "normal" sexual response. They Problems,9 (Fall, 1961), 102-120.
contain legal articles, pleading for civil liberties for homosexuals? Taken 6. Ray, op. cit. .
together, this material provides a working philosophy for the active ho- 7, One and The Mattachille Review are magazines of this type that I have seen.
mosexual, explaining to hinl why he is the way he is, that other people
have also been that way, and why it is all right for him to be that way.
Most deviant groups have a self-justifying rationale (or "ideology"),
although seldom is it as well worked out as that of the homosexual.
'WhUe such rationales do operate, as pointed out earlier, to neutralize
29 The Role of the Mentally III and the Dynamics of Mental
the conventional attitudes that deviants may still find in themselves to- Disorder: A Research Framework
ward their own behavior, they also perform another function. They fur-
nish the individual with reasons that appear sound for continuing the
THOMAS]. SCHEFF
line of activity he has begun. A person who quiets his own doubts by Although the last two decades have seen a vast increase in the nurn~er
adopting the rationale moves into a more principled and consistent kind of studies of functional mental disorder, there is as yet no substantial,
of deviance than was possible for him before adopting it. verified body of knowledge in fhis area. A quotation from a recent sym-
The second thing that happens when one moves into a deviant posium on schizophrenia summarizes the present sItuatlon:
group is that he learns how to carry on his deviant activity with a min- During the past decade, the problems of chronic s~~pJ:renia have
imum of trouble. All the problems he faces in evading enforcement of claimed the energy of workers in many fields. DespIte s1gnificant con-
the rule he is breaking have been faced before by others. Solutions have tributions which reflect continuing progress, we have yet to learn to ask
been worked out. Thus, the young thief meets older thieves who, more ourselves the right questions. 1
experienced than he is, explain to him how to get rid of stolen rner-
cl1andise without running the risk of being caught. Every deviant group Reprinted from ThomasJ. Scheff, "The Role of the Mentally mand the Dynamics of
has a great stock of lore on such subjects and the new recruit learns it Mental Disorder," Sociametn;, vol 26, 1963, pp. 436-453.
quickly. This project was supported in part by the Graduate Research C?nunittee of th~ ~ni~
Thus, the deviant who enters an organized and institutionalized de- versity of Wisconsin. The help of many persons, too numerous to list here, who cnti~
H;~""~ ,-T ... ,... . . . . . . ; .. _ _ ,.,. ..... 1;1~,...1.~ ;.\...~ ................. \...~.c,..._ ... ~,... _,..._ .... !_.~_ 1-!_ ~.~_~._ TT_ • , ,' ..... _~,~~:~ __ >_!..II.. ~ ..Ir... ",.,I",.ln",-l
 398 Labeling and Deviance
Many investigators apparently agree; systematic studies have not
only failed to provide answers to the problem of causation, but there is
considerable feeling that the problem itself has not been formulated cor-
rectly.
One frequently noted deficiency in psychiatric formulations of the
problem is the failure to incorporate social processes into the dynamics
of mental disorder. Although the importance of these processes is in-
creasingly recognized by psychiatrists, the conceptual models used in
formulating research questions are basically concerned with individual
rather than social systems. Genetic, biochemical, and psychological in-
vestigations seek different causal agents, but utilize simllar models: dy-
namic systems which are located within the individual. In these
investigations, social processes tend to be relegated to a subsidiary role,
because the model focuses attention on individual differences, rather
than on the social system in which the individuals are involved.
Recently a number of writers have sought to develop an approach
which would give more emphasis to social processes. Lemert, Erikson,
Goffman, and Szasz have notably contributed to this approach.2 Lemert,
particularly, by rejecting the more conventional concern with the ori-
gins of mental deviance, and stressing instead the potential importance
of the so~ietal reaction in stabilizing deviance, focuses primarily on
mechanisms of social control. 'The work of all these authors suggests re-
search avenues which are analytically separable from questions of indi-
vidual systems and point, therefore, to a theory which would
incorporate social processes.
'The purpose of the present paper is to contribute to the formula-
tion of such a theory by stating a set of nine propositions which make up
basic assumptions for a social system model of mental disorder. This
set is largely derived from the work of the authors listed above, all but
two of the propositions (No. 4 and No. 5.) being suggested, with varying
degrees of explicitness, in the cited references. By stating these proposi-
tions explicitly, this paper attempts to facilitate testing of basic assump-
tions, all of which are empirically unverified, or only partly verified. By
stating these assumptions in terms of standard sociological concepts,
this paper attempts to show the relevance to studies of mental disorder
of findings from diverse areas of social science, such as race relations
and prestige suggestion. This paper also delineates three problems
which are crucial for a sociological theory of mental disorder: what are
the conditions in a culture under which diverse kinds of deviance be-
come stable and uniform; to what extent, in different phases of careers of
mental patients, are symptoms of mental illness the result of conforming
behavior; is there a general set of contingencies which lead to the defin-
itinn nf r1"'ui::ln~ 1">"'1, .... ;,... .. " ... ~ ..... ~~;c~~ ..~...: ___ c _ •• _._.1 '"
29. Thomas J. Schett ;y,,,,
this paper attempts to formulate special conceptual tools to deal with
these problems, which are directly linked to sociological theory. The so-
cial institution of insanity, residual deviance, the social role of the men-
tally ill, and the bifurcation of the societal reaction into the alternative
reactions of denial and labeling are examples of such conceptual tools.
These conceptual tools are utilized to construct a theory of mental
disorder in which psychiatric symptoms are considered to be violations
of social norms, and stable "mental illness" to be a social role. The va-
lidity of this theory depends upon verification of the nine propositions
listed below in future studies, and should, therefore, be applied with
caution, and with appreciation for its limitations. One such limitation is
that the theory attempts to account for a much narrower class of phe-
nomena than is usually found under the rubric of mental disorder; the
discussion that follows will be focused exclusively on stable or recurring
mental disorder, and does not explain the causes of single deviant
episodes. A second major limitation is that the theory probably distorts
the phenomena under discussion. Just as the individual system mod-
els under-stress social processes, the model presented here probably ex-
aggerates their importance. The social system model "holds constant"
individual differences, in order to articulate the relationship between
society and mental disorder. Ultimately, a framework which encom-
passed both individual and social systems would be desirable. Given
the present state of knowledge, however, this framework may prove
useful by providing an explicit contrast to the more conventional med-
ical and psychological approaches, and thus assisting in the formula-
tion of sociological studies of mental disorder.
THE SYMPTOMS OF "MENTAL ILLNESS" AS
RESIDUALLY DEVIANT BEHAVIOR
One source of immediate embarrassment to any social theory of "men-
tal illness" is that the terms used in referring to these phenomena in our
society prejudge the issue. The medical metaphor "mental illness" sug-
gests a determinate process which occurs within the individual: the un-
folding and development of disease. It is convenient, therefore, to dr~p
terms derived from the disease metaphor in favor of a standard SOCIO-
logical concept, deviant behavior, which signifies behavior that violates
a social norm in a given society.
If the symptoms of mental illness are to be construed as violations of
social norms, it is necessary to specify the type of norms involved. Most
norm violations do not cause the violator to be labeled as mentally ill,
, 1 •• 1 ._,
 400 Labeling and Deviance
depending on the type of norm involved. There are innumerable nonns,
however, over which consensus is so complete that the members of a
group appear to take them for granted. A host of such norms surround
even the simplest conversation: a person engaged in conversation is ex-
pected to face toward his partner, rather than directly away from him; if
his gaze is toward the partner, he is expected to look toward his eyes,
rather than, say, toward his forehead; to stand at a proper conversa-
tional distance, neither one inch away nor across the roOID, and so on. A
person who regularly violated these expectations probably would not be
tllought to be merely ill-bred, but as strange, bizarre, and frightening, be-
caUSe his behavior violates the assumptive world of the group, the
world that is construed to be the only one that is natural, decent, and
possible.
The culture of the group provides a vocabulary of terms for cate-
gorizing many norm violations: crime, perversion, drunkenness, and
bad manners are familiar examples. Each of these terms is derived from
the type of norm broken, and ultimately, from the type of behaviar in-
vol.ved. After exhausting these categories, however, there is always a
resIdue of the most diverse kinds of violations, for which the culture
pro:rides no explicit labeL For example, although there is great cultural
vanation in what is defined as decent or real, each culture tends to reify
it~ definition of decency and reality, and so provide no way of handling
VIolations of its expectations in these areas. The typical norm governing
decency or reality, therefore, literally "goes without saying" and its vio-
lation is unthinkable for most of its members. For the convenience of
the society in construing those instances of unnamable deviance which
are c~lled to its attention, these violations may be lumped together into
a reSidual category: witchcraft, spirit possession, or, in our own society,
mental illness. In this paper, the diverse kinds of deviation for which
our society provides no explicit label, and which, therefore, sometimes
lead to the labeling of the violator as mentally ill, will be considered to
be technically residual deviance.
THE ORIGINS, PREVALENCE AND COURSE OF
RESIDUAL DEVIANCE
The first proposition concerns the origins of residual deviance. 1. Resid-
ual deviance arises from fttnda11lentally diverse sources. It has been demon-
strated that some types of mental disorder are the result of organic
causes. It appears likely,-therefore, that there are genetic, biochemical
or physiolOgical origins fmo-residual deviance. It also appears that resid-
11::11 ripui::1nro .... "'n "' ..;"'''' h-n-n--> : .... .-:Ih.:...:I •• ~l __ •• _\..~l __ ; __ l ____ 1'_ ..1':._ . _ 1
29. TIlOmas J. Scheff 401
from differences in upbringing and training. Residual deviance can also
probably be produced by various kinds. of ~xternal stress: the sustained
fear and hardship of combat, and depnvation of food, sleep, and even
sensory experience.] Residual deviance, finally, can be a volitional act of
innovation or defiance. The kinds of behavior deemed typical of mental
illness, such as hallucinations, delusions, depression, and mania, can all
arise from these diverse sources.
The second proposition concerns the prevalence of residual deviance
which is analogous to the "total" or "true" prevalence of mental disorder
(in contrast to the "treated" prevalence). 2. ~eIati~e to the rate,ajtreated
11/enial illness, the rate of Iltzrecorded residual deVlmtCe IS extremely lugh. There
is evidence that grossly deviant behavior is often not noticed or, if it is
noticed, it is rationalized as eccentricity. Apparently, many persons who
are extremely withdravm, or who "fly off the handle" for ~xtended p~­
riods of time who imagine fantastic events, or who hear VOIces or see VI-
sions are no~ labeled as insane either by themselves or others. Their
4
deviance, rather, is unrecognized, ignored, or rationalize~. This pattern
of inattention and rationalization will be called "denial."'J
In addition to the kind of evidence cited above there are a number of
epidemiological studies of total prevalence. ~here are n~e~o~s pro~­
lems in interpreting the results of these studIes; the major dIfficulty IS
that the definition of mental disorder is different in each study, as are the
methods used to screen cases. These studies represent, however, the
best available information and can be used to estimate total prevalence.
A convenient summary of findings is presented in Plunkett and
Gordon.6 This source compares the methods and populations used in
eleven field studies, and lists rates of total prevalence (in percentages) as
1.7,3.6,4.5,4.7,5.3,6.1,10.9,13.8,23.3,23.3, and 33.3.
How do these total rates compare with the rates of treated mental
disorder? One of the studies cited by Plunkett and Gordon, the Balti-
more study reported by Pasamanick, is useful in this regard since it in-
cludes both treated and untreated rates. 7 As compared with the
untreated rate of 10.9 per cent, the rate of treatment in state, VA, and
private hospitals of Baltimore residents was .5 per cent. 5 That is, for
every mental patient there were approximately 20 untreated cases lo-
cated by the survey. It is possible that the treated rate is too I.ow, how-
ever, since patients treated by private physicians were not mcluded.
Judging from another study, the New Haven study of treated preva-
lence, the number of patients treated in private practice is small co~­
pared to those hospitalized: over 70 per cent of t~e patien~5 l~cated In
that study were hospitalized even though extenSIVe case-h.ndmg tech-
niques were employed. The over-all treated prevalence tn the New
, ___ • ~ •• <._.J __ 0 _~_ .... ~~I· T •• l ... ; .... \-. ;" ;n n-""'''.--I "'n-rpPT11pnt
 402 Labeling and Deviance
with my estimate of .7 per cent for the Baltimore study9 If we accept .8
per cent as an estimate of the upper limit of treated prevalence for the
Pasamanick study, the ratio of treated to untreated cases is 1/14. That is,
for every treated patient we should expect to find 14 untreated cases in
the community.
One interpretation of this finding is that the untreated patients in the
community represent those cases with less severe disorders, while those
patients with severe impairments all fall into the treated group. Some of
the findings in the Pasamanick study point in this direction. Of the un-
treated patients, about half are classified as suffering from minimal im-
pairment. At least a fourth of the untreated group, then, involved very
mild disorders. ID
The evidence for the group diagnosed as psychotic does not support
this interpretation, however. Almost all of the cases diagnosed as psy-
chotic were judged to involve severe impairment yet half of the diag-
noses of psychosis occurred in the untreated group. In other words,
accorcling to this study there were as many untreated as treated Cases of
psychoses. ll
On the basis of the high total prevalence rates cited above and other
evidence, it seems plausible that residual deviant behavior is usually
transitory, which is the substance of the third proposition. 3. Most residual
deviance is "denied" and is transiton;. The high rates of total prevalence
suggest that most residual deviancy is unrecognized or rationalized
away. For this type of deviance, which is amorphous and uncrystallized,
Lemert uses the term "primary deviation."l1 Balint describes similar be-
havior as "the unorganized phase of illness."13 Although Balint assumes
that patients in this phase ultimately "settle down" to an "organized ill-
ness," other outcomes are pOSSible. A person in this stao-e may "orga-
nize" his deviance in other than illness terms, e.g. as ;ccentricity or
genius, or the deviant acts may terminate when situational stress is
removed.
The experience of battlefield psychiatrists can be interpreted to sup-
port the hypotheSis that residual deviance is usually transitory. Glass
reports that combat neurosis is often self-terminating if the soldier is
kept with his unit and given only the most superficial medical atten-
tion.I.! Descriptions of child behavior can be interpreted in the same
wa~. According to these reports, most children go through periods in
which at least several of the fOllowing kinds of deviance may occur:
temper tantrums, head banging, scratching, pinching, biting, fantasy
playmates or pets, illusory physical complaints, and fears of sounds,
shapes, colors, persons, animals, darkness, weather, ghosts, and 50 on.tS
In the vast majority of instances, however, these behavior patterns do
nnl- h",,.,n"",<> c~::>hlo
29. Thomas J. Scheff 403
If residual deviance is highly prevalent among ostensibly "normal"
persons and is usually transitory, as suggested by the last two proposi-
tions, what accounts for the small percentage of residual deviants who
go on to deviant careers? To put the question another way, under what
conditions is residual deviance stabilized? The conventional hypothesis
is that the answer lies in the deviant himself. The hypothesis suggested
here is that the most important single factor (but not the only factor) in
the stabilization of residual deviance is the societal reaction. Residual
deviance may be stabilized if it is defined to be evidence of mental ill-
ness, and/or the deviant is placed in a deviant status, and begins to play
the role of the mentally ill. In order to avoid the implication that mental
disorder is merely role-playing and pretense, it is first necessary to dis-
cuss the sodal institution of insanity.
SOCIAL CONTROL: INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIAL SYSTEMS
OFBEHAVIOR
in The Myth of Mental Illness, 5zasz proposes that mental disorder be
viewed within the framework of "the game-playing model of human
behavior." He then describes hysteria, schizophrenia, and other mental
disorders as the "impersonation" of sick persons by those whose "real"
problem concerns "problems of living." Although Szasz states that role-
playing by mental patients may not be completely or even mostly vol-
untary, the implication is that mental disorder be viewed as a strategy
chosen by the individual as a way of obtaining help from others. Thus,
the term "impersonation" suggests calculated and deliberate shamming
by the patient. In his comparisons of hysteria, malingering and cheating,
although he notes differences between these behavior patterns, he sug-
gests that these differences may be mostly a matter of whose point of
view is taken in describing the behavior.
The present paper also uses the role-playing model to analyze men-
tal disorder, but places more emphaSis on the involuntary aspects of
role-playing than Szasz, who tends to treat role-playing as an individual
system of behavior. In many social psychological discussions, however,
role-playing is considered as a part of a social system. TIle individual
plays his role by articulating his behavior with the cues and actions of
other persons involved in the transaction. The proper performance of a
role is dependent on having a cooperative audience. This proposition
may also be reversed: having an audience which acts toward the indi-
vidual in a uniform way may lead the actor to play the expected role
even if he is not particularly interested in doing so. The "baby of the
, .,,, - __ • . . _._ £.:._..ld_~ ___ l _ _ l... ____ ;_ •• ~ L.. •• l.J.L..,.., •• _;( .............. "' ... H-n........ "f
 404 Labeling and Deviance
cues and actions which confronts him in the family may lock in with
his own vocabulary of responses so that it is inconvenient and difficult
for him not to play the part expected of him. To the degree that alterna-
tive roles are closed off. the proffered role may come to be the only way
the individual can cope with the situation.
One of Szasz's very apt formulations touches upon the social sys-
temic aspects of role-playing. He draws an analogy between the role of
the mentally ill and the "type-casting" of actors,I6 Some actors get a rep-
utation for playing one type of role, and find it difficult to obtain other
roles. Although they may be displeased, they may also come to incor-
porate aspects of the type-cast role into their self-conceptions, and ulti-
mately into their behavior. Findings in several social psychological
studies suggest that an individual's role behavior may be shaped by the
kinds of "deference" that he regularly receives trom others. 17
One aspect of the voluntariness of role-playing is the extent to which
the actor believes in the part he is playing. Although a role may be
played cynically, with no belief, or completely sincerely, with whole-
hearted belief, many roles are played on the basis of an intricate mixture
of belief and disbelief. During the course of a study of a large public
mental hospital, several patients told the author in confidence about
their cynical use of their symptoms-to frighten new personnel, to es-
cape from unpleasant work details, and so on. Yet these same patients, at
other times, appear to have been sincere in their symptomatic behavior.
Apparently it was sometimes difficult for them to tell whether they were
playing the role or the role was playing them. Certain types of sympto-
matology are quite interesting in this connection. In simulatiop. of pre-
vious psychotic states, and in the behavior pattern known to
psychiatrists as the Ganser syndrome, it is apparently almost impossible
for the observer to separate feigning of symptoms from involuntary acts
with any degree of certainty.IS In accordance vvith what has been said so
far, the difficulty is probably that the patient is just as confused by his
own behavior as is the observer.
This discussion suggests that a stable role performance may aris~
when the actor's role imagery locks in with the type of "deference"
which he regularly receives. An extreme example of this process may be
taken from anthropological and medical reports concerning the "dead
role," as in deaths attributed to "bone-pointing." Death from bone-point-
ing appears to arise from the conjunction of MO fundamental processe,s
which characterize all social behavior. First, all individuals continually
orient themselves by means of responses which are perceived in social
interaction: the individual's identity and continuity of experience are
dependent on these cues}9 Secondly, the individual has his own vocab-
111"'1"'11 nf aVT\a,..,J."'H ....... " .u!,; ...!, ........ " ; .... ~~_;.;~ .. I~_ ,..;;..," .. ....:~ _ _ :;.1.. _ _ _ _ _ _
29. Thomas J. Scheff 405
Witll or be in conflict with the sanctions to which he is exposed. Entry
into a role may be complete when this role is part of the individual's
expectations, and when these expectations are reaffinned in social in-
teraction. In the following pages this principle will be applied to the
problem of the causation of mental disorder.
What are the beliefs and practices that constitute the social institu-
tion of insanity?2.0 And how do they figure in the development of men-
tal disorder? Two propositions concerning beliefs about mental disorder
in the general public Mll now be considered.
4. Stereohjped imagery of mental disorder is leamed in early childhood.
Although there are no substantiating studies in this area, scattered ob-
servations lead the author to conclude that children learn a consider-
able amount of imagery concerning deviance very early, and that much
of the imagery comes from their peers rather than from adults. The lit-
eral meaning of "crazy," a term now used in a wide variety of contexts,
is probably grasped by children during the first years of elementary
school. Since adults are often vague and evasive in their responses to
questions in this area, an aura of mystery surrounds it. In this social-
ization the grossest stereotypes which are heir to childhood fears, e.g., of
the "boogie man," survive. These conclusions are quite speculative, of
course, and need to be investigated systematically, possibly with tech-
niques similar to those used in studies of the early learning of racial
stereotypes.
Assuming, however, that this hypothesis is sound, what effect does
early learning have on the shared conceptions of insanity held in the
corrununity? There is much fallacious material learned in early child-
hood which is later discarded when more adequate information replaces
it. This question leads to hypothesis no. 5. 5. The stereohjpes of insanity are
continually reaffirmed, illadvertelltly, ill ordillnnj social illteraction.
Although many adults become acquamted with medical concepts of
mental illness, the traditional stereotypes are not discarded, but contin-
ue to exist alongside the medical conceptions, because the stereotypes re-
ceive almost continual support from the mass media and in ordinary
social discourse. In newspapers, it is a common practice to mention that
a rapist or a murderer was once a mental patient. l1tis negative infor-
mation, however, is seldom offset by positive reports. An item like the
following is almost conceivable:
Mrs. F-alph Janes, an ex-mental patient, was elected president of the
Fairview Home and Garden Society in their meeting last Thursday.
Because of highly biased reporting, the reader is free to make the
unwarranted inference that murder and rape occur more frequently
.... ~~~~~., ~,.,~;. .... 1 ~ .... ~;~~~,. ~I~ .... ~ .... ~~~~ ~1 .. ,..,~,.,.~ •• 1 .... 1.;"..., .... ;.1 .... ~~,.., !I,-h, .. l]"
 406 Labeling and Deviance
it has been demonstrated that the incidence of crimes of violence, or of
any crime, is much lower among ex-mental patients than among the
general popuIation. 21 Yet, this is not the picture presented to the public.
Reaffirmation of the stereotype of insanity occurs not only in the
mass media, but also in ordinary conversation, in jokes, anecdotes, and
even in conventional phrases. Such phrases as I~re you crazy?" or "It
would be a madhouse," "It's driving me out of my mind," or "It's driv-
ing me distracted," and hundreds of others occur frequently in infor-
mal conversations. In this usage insanity itself is seldom the topic of
conversation; the phrases are so much a part of ordinary language that
only the person who considers each word carefully can eliminate them
from his speech. Through verbal usages the stereotypes of insanity are a
relatively permanent part of the social structure.
In a recent study Nunnally demonstrated that reaffirmation of
stereotypes occurs in the mass media. In a systematic and extensive con-
tent analysis of television, radio, newspapers and magazines, including
"confession" magazines, they found an image of mental disorder pre-
sented which was overwhelmingly stereotyped.
... media presentations emphasized the bizarre symptoms of the men-
tally ill. For example, information relating to Factor I (the conception
that mentally ill persons look and act different from "normal" people)
was recorded 89 times. Of these, 88 affirmed the factor, that is, indi-
cated or suggested that people with mental-health problems "look and
act different": only one item denied Factor L In television dramas, for
example, the afflicted person often enters the scene staring glassy-eyed,
with his mouth widely ajar, mumbling incoherent phrases or laugh-
ing uncontrollably. Even in what would be considered the milder dis-
orders, neurotic phobias and obsessions, the afflicted person is
presented as having bizarre facial expression and actions.
DENIAL AND LABELING
According to the analysis presented here, the traditional stereotypes of
mental disorder are solidly entrenched in the population because they
are learned early in childhood and are continuously reaffirmed in the
mass media and in everyday conversation. How do these beliefs func-
tion in the processes leading to mental disorder? This question will be
considered by first referring to the earlier discussion of the societal re-
action to residual deviance.
It was stated that the usual reaction to residual deviance is denial,
and U1at in these cases most residual deviance is transitory. The societal
reaction to deviance is not'always denial, however. In a small proportion
of ('asps thp rPArnnn anpc;: ~hp nthpr '''''~lr pv~aa"'r::>t-1n.-.- ::>nrl ",t t-1 ........ oa .-'1;<,_
29. Thomas 1. Scheff 407
tOIting the extent and degree of deviation. This pattern of exaggeration,
whldl we will call "labeling:' has been noted by Garfinkel in his dis-
cussion of the "degradation" of officially recognized crirninals.23 Goff-
man makes a similar point in his description of the "discrediting" of
mental patients. 24. Apparently under some conditions the societal reac-
tion to deviance is to seek out signs of abnormality in the deviant's his-
tory to show that he was always essentially a deviant.
The contrasting social reactions of denial and labeling provide a
means of answering MO fundamental questions. If deviance arises from
diverse sources-physical, psychological, and situational-how does
the uniformity of behavior that is associated with insanity develop? Sec-
ondly, if deviance is usually transitory, how does it become stabilized in
those patients who became chronically deviant? To summarize, what
are the sources of uniformity and stability of deviant behavior.
In the approach taken here the answer to this question is based on
hypotheses Nos. 4 and 5, that the role imagery of insanity is learned
early in childhood, and is reaffirmed in social interaction. In a crisis,
when the deviance of an individual becomes a public issue, the tradi-
tional stereotype of insanity becomes the guiding imagery for action,
both for those reacting to the deviant and, at times, for the deviant him-
self. When societal agents and persons around the deviant react to him
uniformly in terms of the traditional stereotypes of insanity, his amor-
phous and unstructured deviant behavior tends to crystallize in con-
formity to these expectations, thus becoming similar to the behavior of
the other deviants classified as mentally ill, and stable over time. The
process of becoming uniform and stable is completed when the tradi-
tional imagery becomes a part of the deviant's orientation for guiding
his own behavior.
The idea that cultural stereotypes may stabilize primary deviance,
and tend to produce uniformity in symptoms, is supported by cross-
cultural studies of mental disorder. Although some observers insist there
are underlying similarities, most agree that there are enormous differ-
ences in the manifest symptoms of stable mental disorder betwee/l soci-
eties, and great similarity within societies.25
These considerations suggest that the labeling process is a crucial
contingency in most careers of residual deviance. Thus Glass, who ob-
served that neuropsychiatric casualties may not become mentally ill if
they are kept with their unit, goes on to say the military experience with
psychotherapy has been disappointing. Soldiers who are removed from
their unit to a hospital, he states, often go on to become chronically im-
paired. 26 That is, tlleir deviance is stabilized by the labeling process,
which is implicit in their removal and hospitalization. A similar inter-
..... ~ ... ~ ... .s.-; ............ .., ... 1.. ........ ..,.-1 .... 1-. ........................... ; ..... ...- J.t.. .........1.. .......... , ... 4-: ............... ( ..."h;l...1h ......... .-'I .-'1;",_
 408 Labeling and Deviance
orders among Mexican-Americans with those of "Anglo" children.
Childhood disorders such as Sl/sto (an illness believed to result from
fright) sometimes have damaging outcomes in Mexican-American chil-
drenP Yet the deviant behavior involved is very similar to that which
seems to have high incidence among Anglo children, with permanent
impairment virtually never occurring. Apparently through cues n-om
his elders the Mexican-American child, behaving initially much like his
Anglo counterpart, learns to enter the sick role, at times with serious
consequences. 28
ACCEPTANCE OF THE DEVIANT ROLE
From this point of view, then, most mental disorder can be considered to
be a social role. This social role complements and reflects the status of
the insane in the social structure. It is through the social processes which
maintain the status of the insane that the varied deviancies from which
mental disorder arises are made uniform and stable. The stabilization
and uniformization of residual deviance are completed when the de-
viant accepts the role of the insane as the framework within which he or-
ganizes his own behavior. Three hypotheses are stated below which
suggest some of the processes which cause the deviant to accept such a
stigmatized role.
6. Labeled deviants may be rewarded for playing tlte stereoh}ped devim1t
role. Ordinarily patients who display "insight" are rewarded by psychi-
atrists and other personnel. That is, patients who manage to find evi-
dence of "their illness" in their past and present behavior, confinning the
medical and societal diagnosis, receive benefits. This pattern of behavior
is a special case of a more general pattern that has been called the "apos-
tolic function" by Balint, in which the physician and others inadver-
tently cause the patient to display symptoms of the illness the physician
thinks the patient has." Not only physicians but other hospital person-
nel and even other patients reward the deviant for conforming to the
stereotypes.3D
7. Labeled deviants are punished when they attempt the return to CO/l-
verztional roles. The second process operative is the systematic blockage
of entry to nondeviant roles once the label has been publicly applied.
Thus the ex-mental patient, although he is urged to rehabilitate himself
in the community, usually finds himself discriminated against in seek-
ing to return to his old status, and on trying to find a new one in the oc-
cupational, marital, social, and other spheres. 31 Thus, to a degree, the
labeled deviant is rewarded for deviating, and punished for attempting
to confonn.
29. Thomas j. Schell 409
8. lit the crisis occurril1g when a primary deviant is publicly labeled, the de-
viant is highly suggestible, and may accept the proffered role of the insalle as the
ollly alternative. When gross deviancy is publicly recognized and made
an issue, the primary deviant may be profoundly confused, anxious,
and ashamed. In this crisis it seems reasonable to assume that the de-
viant will be suggestible to the cues that he gets from the reactions of
others toward him.32 But those around him are also in a crisis; the in-
comprehensible nature of the deviance, and the seeming need for im-
mediate action lead them to take collective action against the deviant
on the basis of the attitude which all share-the traditional stereotypes
of insanity. The deviant is sensitive to the cues provided by these others
and begins to think of himself in terms of the stereotyped role 01 insan-
ity, which is part of his own role vocabulary also, since he, like those
reacting to him, learned it early in childhood. In this situation his be-
havior may begin to follow the pattern suggested by his own stereo-
types and the reactions of others. That is, when a primary deviant
organizes his behavior vvithin the framework of mental disorder, and
when his organization is validated by others, particularly prestigeful
others such as physicians, he is "hooked" and will proceed on a career of
chronic deviance.
The role of suggestion is noted by Warner in his description of bone-
pointing magic:
The effect of (the suggestion of the entire community on the victim) is
obviously drastiC. An analogous situation in our society is hard .to
imagine. If all a man's near kin, his father, mother, brothers and SIS-
ters, wife, children, business associates, friends and all the other mem-
bers of society, should suddenly withdraw themselves because of some
dramatic circumstance, refusing to take any attitude but one of taboo ...
and then perform over him a sacred ceremony.:.the en~rmous su.g-
geslive power of this movement. .. of the communIty after It has had Its
attitudes (toward the victim) crystallized can be somewhat understood
by ourselves.}3
If we substitute for black magic the taboo that usually accompanies
mental disorder, and consider a commitment proceeding or even men-
tal hospital admission as a sacred ceremony, the similarity between
Warner's description and the typical events in the development of men-
tal disorder is considerable.
The last three propositions suggest that once a person has been
placed in a deviant status there are rewards for conforming to the de-
viant role, and plmishments for not conforming to the deviant role. This
is not to imply, however, that the symptomatic behavior of persons oc-
cupying a deviant status is always a manifestation of conforming be-
havior. To explain this point, some discussion of the process of
,. J/ ••• '_/J'_.~~ _____ ._.
410 Labeling and Deviance
In a recent discussion of the process of self-control, Shibutani notes
that self-control is not automatic, but is an intricate and delicately bal-
anced process, sustainable only under propitious circumstances. 3.J: He
points out that fatigue, the reaction to narcotics, excessive excitement
or tension (such as is generated in mobs), or a number of other condi-
tions interfere with self-control; conversely, conditions which produce
normal bodily states, and deliberative processes such as symbolization
and imaginative rehearsal before action, facilitate it.
One might argue that a crucially important aspect of imaginative
rehearsal is the image of himself that the actor projects into his fuhlre ac-
tion. Certainly in American society, the cultural image of the "normal"
adult is that of a person endowed with self-control ("willpower," "back-
bone," "strength of character," etc.). For the person who sees himself as
endowed with the trait of self-control, self-control is facilitated, since
he can imagine himself enduring stress during his imaginative rehearsal,
and also while under actual stress.
For a person who has acquired an image of himself as lacking the
ability to control his own actions, the process of self-control is likely to
break down under stress. Such a person may feel that he has reached his
"breaking-point" under circumstances which would be endured by a
person with a "normal" self-conception. This is to say, a greater lack of
self-control than can be explained by stress tends to appear in those
roles for which the culture transmits imagery which emphasizes lack
of self-controL In American society such imagery is transmitted for the
roles of the very young and very old, drunkards and drug addicts, gam-
blers, and the mentally ill.
Thus, the social role of the mentally ill has a different significance
at different phases of residual deviance. When labeling first occurs, it
merely gives a name to primary deviation which has other roots. When
(and if) the primary deviance becomes an issue, and is not ignored or
rationalized away, labeling may create a social type, a pattern of
"symptomatic" behavior in conformity with the stereotyped expecta-
tions of others. Finally, to the extent that the deviant role becomes a
part of the deviant's self-conception, his ability to control his own be-
havior may be impaired under stress, resulting in episodes of compul-
sive behavior.
The preceding eight hypotheses form the basis for the final causal
hypothesis. 9. Among residual deviants, labeling is the single most impor-
tant caltse of careers of residual deviance. This hypothesis assumes that most
residual deviance, if it does not become the basis for entry into the sick
role, will not lead to a deviant career. Most deviant careers, according to
this point of view, arise out of career contingencies, and are therefore
29. Thomas J. Scheff 411
35
not directly connected with the origins of the initial deviance. Although
there is a wide variety of contingencies which lead to labeling rather
than denial, these contingencies can be usefully classified in terms of
the nature of the deviant behavior, the person who commits the deviant
acts, and the community in which the deviance occurs. Other things
being equal, the severity'of the societal reaction to deviance is a function
of, first, the degree, amount, and visibility of the deviant behavior; sec-
ond, the power of the deviant, and the social distance between the de-
viant and the agents of social control; and finally, the tolerance le~el of
the community, and the availability in the culture of the commuruty of
alternative nondeviant roles.35 Particularly crucial for future research is
the importance of the first two contingencies (the amount and degree of
deviance), which are characteristics of the deviant, relative to the re-
maining five contingencies, which are characteristics of the social sys-
tem.37 To the extent that these five factors are found empirically to be
independent determinants of labeUng and denial, the status of the men-
tal patient can be considered a partly ascribed rather than a completely
achieved status. The dynamics of treated mental illness could then be
profitably studied quite apart from the individual dynamics of mental
disorder.
CONCLUSION
This paper has presented a sociological theory of the causation of stable
mental disorder. Since the evidence advanced in support of the theory
was scattered and fragmentary, it can only be suggested as a stimulus to
further discussion and research. Among the areas pointed out for further
investigation are field studies of the prevalence and duration of residual
deviance; investigations of stereotypes of mental disorder in children,
the mass media, and adult conversations; studies of the rewarding of
stereotyped deviation, blockage of retulTI to conventional roles, and of
the suggestibility of primary deviants in crises. The final causal hy-
pothesis suggests studies of the conditions under which denial and la-
beling of residual deviation occur. The variables which might effect the
societal reaction concern the nature of the deviance, the deviant him-
self, and the community in which the deviation occurs. Although many
of the hypotheses suggested are largely unverified, they suggest av-
enues for investigating mental disorder different than those that are
usually followed, and the rudiments of a general theory of deviant be-
havior.
 412 Labeling and Deviance
NOTES
1. Nathanial S. Apter, "Our Growing Restlessness with Problems of Cluon-
ic Schizophrenia," in Lawrence Appleby, et al., Chronic Schizopitrenia,
Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1958.
2. Edwin M. Lemert, Social Pathology, New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951; Kai T.
Erikson, "Patient Role and Social Uncertainty-A Dilemma of the Men-
tally ill," Psychiatry, 20 (August, 1957), pp. 263-274; Erving Gof&nan,
Asylu1IIs, New York: Doubleday-Anchor, 1961; Thomas S. Szasz, The
Myth afMental Illness, New York: Hoeber-Harper, 1961.
3. Philip Solomon, et al. (eds.), SeT/son) Deprivatioll, Cambridge: Harvard,
196~; E. L Bl.is~: et al., "Studi~s of Sleep Deprivation-Relationship to
Schizoprnerua, A.M.A. ArchIves afNeurology and Psychiatry, 81 (March,
1959), pp. 348-359.
4. See, for example, John A. Clausen and Marian R. Yarrow, "Paths to the
Mental Hospit~l,,, Joumal of Social Issues, 11 (December, 1955), pp. 25-32;
August B. Hollingshead and Frederick C. Redlich, Social Class and Mental
Illness, New.York: Wiley, 1958, pp. 172-176; and EIaine Curnming and
John Cumrnmg, Closed Ranks, Cambridge: Harvard, 1957, pp. 92-103.
5. The tenn "denial" is used in the same sense as in Curnming and Cum-
ming, ibid., Chap. VIr.
6. Richard J. Plu~kett and John E. Gordon, Epidemiolog1j and Menial Illfless,
New York: BasIc Books, 1960.
7. ~enjamin Pasamanick, "A Survey of Mental Disease in an Urban Popula-
tIOn, Iv, An Approach to Total Prevalence Rates," Archives of Gelleral PSlj-
clliain}, 5 (August, 1961), pp. 151-155.
8. Ibid., P. 153.
9.
Hollinshead and Redlich, op. cit., p. 199.
10. Pasamanick,op. cit., pp. 153-154.
11. Ibid.
12. Lemert, op. cif., Chap. 4.
13. Michael Balint, The Doctor, His Patient, and the Illness, New York: Interna-
tional Universities Press, 1957, p. 18.
14. Albert J. Glass, "Psychotherapy in the Combat Zone," in SymposiulIJ 011
Stress, Washington, D.e.: Army Medical Service Graduate School, 1953.
Cf. Abraharn Kardiner and H. Spiegel, War Stress and Neurotic Illness,
New York: Hoeber, 1947, Chps. Ill-IV.
15. Frances L lig and Louise B. Ames, Child Behavior, New York: Dell, 1960,
pp. 138-188.
16. Szasz, op. c:·t., p. 252. For discussion of type-casting see Orcin E. Klapp,
Heroes, VlllJal1s alld Fools, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall,
1962, pp. 5--8 and passim.
17. Cf. Zena S. Blau, "Changes in Status and Age Identification," American
~ociologica~ Review, 21 (April, 1956), pp. 198-203; James Benjamins,
c:na~ges ill Performan,ce in Relation to Influences upon Self-Conceptu-
alization, Jormwl of AbflOnnal and Social Psyc1lOlogJ), 45 Quly, 1950), pp.
29. Thomas J. Scheff 413
473-480; Albert Ellis, "The Sexual Psychology of Human Hermaphro-
dites," PsyclJOsomntic Medicille, 7 (March, 1945), pp. 108-125j S. Liberman,
"The Effect of Changes in Roles on the Attiludes of Role Occupants,"
Hi/mall Relatiolls, 9 (1956), pp. 385-402. For a reivew of experimental evi-
dence, see John H. Mann, "Experimental Evaluations of Role Playing,"
Psychological Bulletill, 53(May, 1956), pp. 227-234. For an interesting
demonstration of the inter-relations between the symptoms of patients
on tile same ward, see Sheppard G. Kellam and J. B. Chassan, "Social
Context and Symptoms Fluctuation," Psyclliatry, 25 (November, 1962),
pp. 370-381.
18. Leo Sadow and Alvin Suslick, "Simulation of a Previous Psychotic
State," A.M.A. Arcllives of Gelleral Psyclliatnj, 4 (May, 1961), pp. 452-458.
19. Generalizing from experimental findings, Blake and Mouton make this
statement about the processes of conformity, resistance to influence, and
coversion to a new role:
... an individual requires a stable framework, including salient and
firm reference points, in order to orient himself and to regulate his
interactions with others. This framework consists of external and in-
ternal anchorages available to the individual whether he is aware of
them or not. With an acceptable framework he can resist giving or
accepting information that is inconsistent with that framework or
that requires him to relinquish it. In the absence of a stable frame-
work he actively seeks to establish one through his own strivings by
maldng use of Significant and relevant infonnation provided within
the context of interaction. By contl'Ollil1g the amount and kind of infor-
matio/J nvailable for orientatiOll, llC call be led to embrace cOllfonu/lIg atti-
tildes which are entirely foreigll to his earlier ways of t1lillkillg.
Robert R. Blake and Jane S. Moufon, "Conformity; Resistance and Con-
version," in COllformih) and Deviation, Irwin A Berg and Bemard M. Bass
(eds.), New York: Harper, 1961, pp. 1-2. For a recent and striking demon-
stration of the effect on social communication in defining internal stim-
uli, see Stanley Schachter and Jerome E. Singer, "Cognitive, Social, and
PhYSiological Detenninants of Emotional State," Psychological Review, 69
(September, 1962), pp. 379-399.
20. TIle Cumrnings describe the social institution of insanity (the "patterned
response" to deviance) in terms of denial, isolation, and insulation. Curn-
rning and Curruning, loco cit.
21. Henry Brill and Benjamin Malzberg, "Statistical Report Based on the Ar-
rest Record of 5354 Male Ex-patients Released from New York State Men-
tal Hospitals During the Period 1946-48," mimeographed document
available from the authors; L.H. Cohen and H. Freeman, "How Danger-
ous to the Community Are State Hospital Patients?", COIlIlecticut State
Medical JouJ"/lal, 9 (September, 1945), pp. 697-701.
22. Jum C. Nurmally, Jr., Poplllar Conceptions of Mental Health, New York:
Holt, Rinehart and Wrnston, 1961, p. 74.
414 Labeling and Deviance
23. Harold Garfinkel, "Conditions of Successful Degradation Ceremonies,"
Americall JOllmal of SocioloJ51J, 61 (March, 1956), pp. 420-424.
24. Goffman, liThe Moral Career of the Mental Patient," in AsylulIls, op. cit.,
pp. 125-171.
25. P. M. Yap, "Mental Diseases Peculiar to Certain Cultures: A Survey of
Comparative Psychiatry," /ollmal of Melltal Science, 97 (April, 1951), pp.
313-327; Paul E. Eenedict and Ivving Jacks, "Mental Illness in Primitive
Societies," PsycltiatnJ, 17 (November, 1954), pp. 377-389.
26. Glass, op. cil.
27. Lyle Saunders, Cultuml Differellces alld Medical Care, New York: Russell
Sage, 1954,p. 142.
28. For discussion, with many illustrative cases, of the process in which per-
sons play the "dead role" and subsequently die, see Charles C. Herbert,
"Life-influencing Interactions," in Tlte PhysiologtJ ojEmotiolls, Alexander
Simon, et al., eds., New York: Charles C Thomas, 1961.
29. Habnt, op. cif., pp. 215-239. Cf. Thomas]. Sd1eff, "Decision Rules, Types
of Error and Their Consequences in Medical Diagnosis," Behavioral Sci-
ellce, 8 (April, 1963), pp. 97-107.
30. William Caudill, F. C. Redlich, H. R. Gilmore, and E. B. Brody, "Social
Structure and the Interaction Processes on a Psychiatric Ward," American
JOllmal of OrtllOpsycJziatnj, 22 (April, 1952), pp. 314-334.
31. Lemert,op. cit., provides an extensive discussion of this process under
the heading of "Limitation of Participation," pp. 434-440.
32. This proposition receives support from Erikson's observations: Kai T. Er-
ickson, lac. cit.
33. W. Lloyd Warner, A Black Civilization, rev. ed., New York: Harper, 1958, p.
242.
34. T. Shibutani, Sociehj alld Personality, Englewood Cliffs, N.].: Prentice-
Hall, 1961, Chapter 6, "Consciousness and Voluntary Conduct."
35. It should be noted, however, that these contingencies are causal only be-
cause they become part of a dynamic system: the reciprocal and cumula-
tive interrelation between the deviant's behavior and the sodetal
reaction. For example, U1e more the deviant enters the role of the mental-
ly ill, the more he is defined by others as mentally ill, but the more he is
defined as mentally ill, the more fully he enters the role, and so on. By
representing this theory in the fonn of a £low chart, WaIter Huckley
pointed out that there are numerous such feedback loops implied here.
For an explicit treatment of feedback, see Edwin M. Lemert, "Paranoia
and the Dynamics of Exclusion," Sociometnj, 25 (March, 1962), pp. 2-20.
36. Cf Lemert, op. cit., pp. 51-53, 55-68; Goffman, "The Moral Career of the
Mental Patient," in Asylums, op. cit., pp. 134-135; David Mechanic, "Some
Factors in Identifying and Defining Mentallllness," Melltal Hygiene, 46
Ganuary, 1962), pp. 66-74; for a list of similar factors in the reaction to
phYSical illness, see Earl L. Koos, The Healtll of Regiollville, New York: Co-
lumbia University Press, 1954, pp. 30-38.
37. Cj. Thomas]. Scheff, '!Psychiatric and Social Contingencies in the Release
.... r1l.,f" ... .. 1 P ..
~ ;";~~J.~:~ _ 1..<:..l ••• __ ... _ _ CJ._J._"
c__ . . 1... __ . , __ . r!. ___ ._
30. Milton Mankoff 415
Mark Lefton, Shirley Angrist, and Benjarnin Pasarnanick, "Psychiatric
and Social Attributes as Predictors of Case Outcome in Mental Hospital-
ization," Social Problems, 8 (Spring, 1961), pp. 322-328.
Analysis and Critique
30 Societal Reaction and Career Deviance:
A Critical Analysis
MILTON MANKOFF
INTRODUCTION
In recent years the societal reaction or labeling perspective of Tannen-
baurn (1938), as elaborated by Lemert (1951), Erikson (1962), Becker
(1963), and Scheff (1966), has become well known and seemingly wide-
ly accepted in one form or another by sociologists studying social de-
viance. Whether Tannenbaum and others intended to expound a general
theory 01 deviance (Gibbs, 1966b), particularly career deviance, is not
nearly as important as the fact that the work of these sociologists has
been perceived by many to form a fairly coherent body of thought on the
subject. Accordingly, a great deal of research has been generated by
using some central concepts associated with the labeling perspective
(i.e., primary and secondary or career deviance and societal reaction)
to examine many forms of rule-breaking.
The bulk of the research growing out of this tradition has succeeded
in demonstrating that sociallabeling is not randomly applied through-
out the population 01 rule-breakers (Cicourel, 1968; Piliavin and Briar,
1964). While not wishing to belittle the importance of such documenta-
tion and its implications for social theory (and social justice), one must
point out that to date there has not been a systematic examination of
Reprinted from "Societal Reaction and Career Deviance: A Critical Analysis," Milton
Mankoff, The Sociologiml Quarterly, 12:2 (Spring 1971): pp. 204-217. © 1971 and by per-
mission of The Sociological Quarterly Midwest Sociological Society.
ll1is is a revised version of a paper previously delivered at the 1969 meetings of the
Pacific Sociological Association in Seattle, Wushington. I am deeply indebted for both
substantive and editorial assistance to WiIliam Chambliss, Marshall Clinard, Irving
Horowitz, David Mechanic, Arnold Ross, Thomas Scheff, D. Lawrence Wieder, and sey-
.... , .. ,.-
416 Labeling and Deviance
one of the labeling perspective's most profound derivative "theories";
that is, rI/le-breakers become wtrenched in dc:viant roles because t/Jel) are labeled
"devinnt" by otllers and are cof1seqllentIy excluded fro11l resllmiJ1g l1DI7Jlal roles
ill the COI1lI111l1Iioj (Lemert, 1951:75-79; Becker, 1963:31-36; Scheff, 1966).
Much of the documentation of the discriminatory use of labeling is
based on the belief that labeling is the primary determinant of career
deviance. It is worthwhile, therefore, to examine the validity of this po-
sition. Without validation of this central notion, the research on the la-
beling process loses a great deal of its significance.
Among labeling theorists there are, of course, subtle disagreements
concerning whether the labeling process is merely a necessary condi-
tion, or approaches a necessary and sufficient condition for the devel-
opment of secondary or career deviance. Lemert (1967), for example, is
extremely sensitive to the indeterminacy of the interaction between rule-
breakers and other social actors and is even willing to exclude certain
forms of rule-breaking from the general societal reaction model. Yet in
focusing on the variety of paths rule-breakers travel he does not devel-
op any explicit formulation of the conditions under which the sodetal re-
action model is most applicable to the phenomena at hand.
The failure of those whose work falls within the boundaries of the
labeling tradition to develop typologies that indicate which particular
kinds of social deviance can be most fruitfully understood by using the
concepts of labeling theory is a serious shortcoming which prevents
evaluating the significance of their research. While labeling theorists
may think they are only applying the principles of the labeling per-
spective to one form of deviation, their incidental endorsements of gen-
eralizability to other forms of deviant behavior make the critic wary of
"straw men" arguments when he attempts to project the implications of
specific research for general theory. Those who write about deviance
from the labeling perspective, whether they feel they are being general
theorists or not, should welcome an attempt to consider the limits of
their model for explaining career deviance.
Given the above-mentioned confusion, it is the primary intention
of this exploratory paper to examine critically some empirical studies
bearing on the validity of labeling theory and to provide some tenta-
tive answers to the following queries:
1. Is societal reaction to rule-breaking a necessary and suffi-
cient condition for career deviance?
2. Is societal reaction to rule-breaking equally significant in the
determination of career deviance for all kinds of rule-break-
ing phenomena, or is it best applied to a limited number of
rule-breaking phenomena?
30. Nlilton Mankoff 417
3. What are the most serious obstacles to an adequate assess-
ment of the theory?
I shall consider two distinct types of rule-breaking phenomena, as-
criptive and achieved, which should illuminate the limitations of the la-
beling perspective when it addresse~ Itself to the so:rrce of ca~eer
deviance.1 Ascribed rule-breaking occurs if the rule-breaker IS charactenzed
in terms of a particular physical or visible "impairment." ~e does not
necessarily have to act in order to be a rule-breaker; he acq~es that sta-
tus regardless of his behavior or wishes. Thus, the very beautiful an~ the
very ugly can be considered ascriptive rule-breakers. By contrast, achIeved
rule-breaking involves activity on the part of the rule-breaker, regardless
of his positive attachment to a deviant "way of life." The embezzler wh~
attempts to conceal his rule-breaking act, no less than the re~ man-
juana user who freely admits his transgression, has had t.o achieve.rule~
breaking status, at least to some extent, on the strength of Ius ?VV1l actions.-
In evaluating the applicability of the labeling perspective on career
deviance to both types of rule-breaking phenomena, I shall employ the
logic of analytic induction, detennining whether invidious socle~a~ re-
action to primary deviation represents a necessary and/or suffICIent
condition for career deviance (Denzin, 1970:194-199).
Because the body of the paper shall attempt to demonstrate the se-
vere limitations of labeling theory as a general theory of career deviance
and, more significantly, because at least some of the evidence for my
argument will come from the empiri:al r~s~arch gener.ated b~ proro-
neJlts of the labeling perspective, I believe It IS worthwhile consIdenng
the development and wide acceptance of labeling theory among sociol-
ogists as a suitable topic for a study in the sociology of l~m:ledge. Thus,
in the last section of this paper, I shall present some heunstic remarks on
the social sources of labeling theory as an intellectual product and the
implications of this analysis for the study of social deviance, the socio-
logical profession, and public policy.
ASCRIPTIVE RULE.BREAKING
Labeling theorists, unlike most sociologists of de~iant ~eha.vior, have
been particularly concerned with the effects of stIgmatization on t~le
physically and visibly handicapped. Lemert's (1951: Chapters 5, 6) PlO-
neering text, Social Pathology, devoted two entIre chapters to the blmd
and persons \vith speech defects.
It seems quite evident that societal reaction is probab~y a f1ecess~ry
condition for deviant careers among certain kinds of phYSIcally or VISl-
418 Labeling and Deviance
bly handicapped persons, that is, those whose rule-breaking would not
normally interfere with conventional role playing (e.g., dwarfs, the ex-
tremely ugly, women, blacks). One would be hard pressed to think of a
group whose members become preoccupied with physical or visible
traits they share that are not "labeled" by outsiders.
In considering whether societal reaction represents a sufficient con-
dition for ascriptive career deviance, several problems arise. Labeling
theorists have failed to specify which kinds of sanctions lead to career
deviance and the degree of severity which is required to produce such
an outcome. When considering necessary conditions, the above diffi-
culty is not as severe if one can demonstrate the absence of societal reac-
tion .. .it is a qualitative issue. When it comes to the role of labeling as a
sufficient condition, however, one is dealing with a question which has
a quantitative dimension (Turner, 1953).
Given the lack of clarity in conceptualizing and operationalizing
societal reaction, any discussion of sufficient conditions must be ex-
ploratory. Gibbs' (1966a) recent attempt to develop a typology of social
sanctions is suggestive of the many aspects which must be examined
in an adequate treatment of this area.
For the purposes of this paper, I shall treat societal reaction as a
qualitative phenomenon exclusively, involving the presence or absence
of formal or informal sanctions (e.g., conviction and incarceration, prej-
udice and discrimination). In the case of ascribed rule-breaking, sanc-
tions are almost always informal, exceptions being Jim Crow laws and
physical requirements for certain occupations; achieved rule-breakers
face both kinds of sanctions. It is debatable which are more severe, but
we can assume that labeling theorists consider the typical sanctions
meted out to rule-breakers-ostracism, economic discrimination, and
incarceration-as sufficient conditions for career deviance as long as the
labeling and punishment of rule-breal<ers is widely known and prac-
ticed by community members. It can always be argued, to be sure, that
a more severe societal reaction would succeed in excluding the rule-
breaker from normal roles and lead him inexorably to a deviant career.
It is impossible to test such an assertion when the requisite degree of
severity is left in doubt. Thus, it is possible that the labeJing perspec-
tive is valid in the abstract, but its use in an historical context may be
limited because of the concrete features of sanctions being used in a
given society.
In any case, Goffman's (1963) work on stigma testifies to the pow-
erful impact that labeling has on the social behavior of those stigma-
tized for physical and visible ascriptive rule-breaking. Davis' (1964)
study of the attempts at "deviance disavowal" by handicapped persons
;n ...H"",h:>c: th",t rl.:,.r;",,,t ,,'''If_r'n''r'o..... f-inn''' rlcn,,,,l,.vn o","u urh",,, n"n ;<=' "'",,_
30. Milton Mankoff 419
cessful in minimizing stigmatization and discrimination. The "psycho-
logical" problems of black people in the United States are, of course,
the most obvious examples of the operation of this process (Kardiner
and Ovesey, 1951).
On the other hand, even among the severely stigmatized, variations
in (n) power, (b) soda-economic status, (c) the acquisition of compen-
satory skills, and (d) defense mechanisms may enable some of the vic-
tims of labeling to assume a quasi-normal role in the community, while
others must accept a deviant career.
Nevertheless, because ascribed rule-breaking is highly visible to
corrununity members and often the object of widespread prejudice, la-
beling may come close to being a sufficient condition for career deviance.
Ascribed deviants such as dwarfs, women, the ugly, and blacks are not
handicapped because their physical and/ or visible traits prevent them
from playing any particular roles but rather because of the invidious
labeling process and the absence of factors which might tend to miti-
gate its effects. Ascribed deviance is based upon rule-breaking phe-
nomena that fulfill all the requirements of the labeling paradigm: highly
"visible" rule-breaking that is totally dependellt upon the sonetal reaction
of community members while being totally illdepelldent of the actions
and intentions of rule-breakers.
The normal modes of social redintegration discussed by Parsons
(1951:297-325) cannot operate because the interaction behveen rule-
breakers and agents of social control is not based on true reciprocity.
The deviant status of the ascriptive rule-breakers can ordinarily be ter-
minated only by drastic cultural, structural, or aesthetic changes in the
SOCiety in which they are members. Short of such societal transforma-
tion, the labeled ascriptive rule-breaker almost inevitably will be caught
up in the mechanistic system which the proponents of the labeling per-
spective have discovered. The so-called black revolution and, on a small-
er scale, the "hire the handicapped" campaigns, testify to the inability of
ascribed rule-breal<ers to achieve social redintegration on the basis of
individual adaptation as opposed to collective efforts to transform soci-
etal values, beliefs, and institutions.
ACHIEVED RULE· BREAKING
While ascribed rule-breaking can perhaps best be lmderstood in terms of
the labeling perspective, only a small proportion of the socially sanc-
tioned rule-breaking that has preoccupied sociologists of deviant be-
havior involves ascribed phenomena. The normal concerns of students
:~ t.t...:n '£:~I...1 __ ~_~_1-. _~..J _.:_1 __ .L __ : _ _ ,,_ .. : _______ .:d. ___ ' __ '_LO. ___ "
420 Labeling and Deviance
(Schur, 1965), the various exotic sub-cultures often associated with cer-
tain occupational statuses (e.g., dance musicians, taxi-dancers, strip-
pers), and "residual rule-breaking" (Scheff, 1966), involve the
examination of achieved rule-breaking. Although the designation of
these phenomena as rule-breaking necessarily involves the violation of
normative standards and sociallabeling as does ascribed rule-breaking,
unlike the ascribed case, achieved rule-breaking requires the commission
of a norm-violating act by the rule-breaker. This act can be engaged in
out of regrettable necessity or hedonism, consciously or unconsciously.
Several empirical studies, including, notably, the research of Lemert
(1967:99-134) and Becker (1963:41-78), advocates of the labeling per-
spective, can be used to question whether societal reaction to achieved
rule-breaking is a necessanJ condition for career deviance.
Lemert's (1967:99-134) detailed examination of systematic check
forgers, for example, documents the way in which career deviance and
deviant self-conceptions can develop prior to societal reaction. TIle career
of the systematic check forger begins with a situation in which "closure"
operates leading to the initial rule-breaking. The naive forger is involved
in "dialectical" behavior, such as heavy gambling or living beyond his
means, in which each expenditure forces him deeper in debt without
permitting him to abandon his imprudent behavior. At some point he
runs out of available cash and the pressures to continue his activities
make forgery the only possible step. Among systematic check forgers
Lemert finds that there is the thrill and excitement of living beyond one's
means, as well as the challenging aspects of forgery itself, which accounts
for the systematic nature of the offense. Societal reaction does not ap-
pear to be a significant cause of career deviance. In terms of self-concep-
tion systematic check forgers at first appear to accept their identity after
arrest, often seeking capture in order to secure a stable self-image, ac-
cording to Lemert. Yet, it seems that such offenders may merely feel the
need for others to respond to them in the deviant role to which they have
already become attached prior to experiencing social sanctions.
Perhaps a stronger case of the adoption of a deviant role without
the experience of invidious societal reaction can be found in Cressey's
(1953) study of violators of financial trust. Using the method of analyt-
ic induction, Cressey shows that a financial trust violation occurs among
persons who have a problem that cannot be shared with others, become
aware that financial trust violation can solve the problem, and are able to
use contacts with criminal values to apply verbalizations to their be-
havior which act as rationalizations.
Cressey (1953:114-138) suggests that arrest often precedes the recog-
nition of "criminality" on'· the part of trust violators. However, in other
_____ LI __ • __ 1_ 1_ •. __ 1._ •. _____
t. _ .J ___ : __
_ l. I ! ______ L _-= __ t. _ _ _ •• ! __
__
30. rvlilton Mankoff 421
mal sanctions by employers or agents of social control. Chronic specu-
lation is based primarily upon the desire and ability to "borrow" suc-
cessfully without detection. Often a record of "borrowed" money is kept
in the beginning with a clear intention of repayment. After the amount
taken becomes too great to return, or perhaps they read about another
case of trust violation in the newspaper, trust violators may recognize
that they are "in too deep" and accept the fact that they are "criminals,"
not merely "borrowers." At this point, Cressey reports that trust viola-
tors may react in several ways: confess their crime, gamble wildly to re-
store funds, abscond, commit suicide, or increase defalcations with little
discretion and no concern for repayment. In any case, it seems, from
Cressey's discussion, that career deviance and deviant self-conceptions
can arise without the actor experiencing societal reaction to initial rule-
breaking.
An examination of Becker's (1963:41-78) classic study of the career
development of regular marijuana users casts further doubt on the role
of the labeling process in the generation of career deviance. According to
Becker marijuana users go through three distinct career stages: (a) be-
ginner, (b) occasional user, and (c) regular user. In terms of the labeling
paradigm, the beginner is a primary deviant, and the regular user is a ca-
reer deviant, with occasional use fitting somewhere in behveen. Becker
was not particularly concerned with the reasons for beginning use of
marijuana, but generally he accepted the position that initial use is based
on curiosity. How, then, does the initiate go from the beginner stage to
the stage of being a "head" or regular user? Becker did not see societal
reaction entering into the picture in a traditional sense. Rather, the initi-
ate learns:
1. To use the proper smoking technique in order to produce the
proper subjective state.
2. To associate marijuana with the feeling state produced.
3. To interpret the feeling as pleasurable.
At no point in his narrative does Becker refer to invidious labeling as a
factor in bringing about regular marijuana use. 3 At various stages in the
career of the user, he is free to discontinue smoking. Regular use of mar-
ijuana seems to be depending upon finding the subjective effects of the
drug pleasurable and solving certain problems of supply, discretion,
and ethics. Thus, the case of marijuana smoking appears to be an excel-
lent illustration of career deviance based primarily upon finding plea-
sure in a deviant manner.
Finally, an examination of the literature on homosexuality seems to
indicate that a very similar career sequence may be operating as in the
r., .. L·,1. r. .. .1 _ • •1. . , , _ .• 1• • . . 1.1 • . 1.
 422 Labeling and Deviance
uals nor rejection by peers during childhood or adolescence seems to
account for career deviation within this rule-breaking group (Schofield,
1965). Homosexual experimentation seems to be a prevalent feature of
50-called normal socialization among adolescents. Some youths find
that they enjoy such activity and, depending upon the opportunity
structure and the importance of discretion, may choose to continue such
activity. Many homosexuals are bisexual and even marry persons of the
opposite sex. Career deviation occurs despite lack of visibility and social
labeling.
In considering the question of whether societal reaction is a SJlffi-
cient condition for career deviance among achieved rule-breakers, the
same difficulties arise as in the earlier consideration of labeling as a suf-
ficient condition for career deviance in the ascriptive case.
Unfortunately, much of the literature focuses on the effects of in-
carceration, ignoring the importance of informal societal reaction to rule-
brealdng. It is doubtless true that informal sanctions such as ostracism
may be more damaging than legal penalties, but a prison sentence is
certainly a severe form of punishment for transgressions.
If incarceration exacerbates attachment to deviant role-playing, one
would predict that recidivism rates would be extremely high for ex-con-
victs. Such persons should be unable to find jobs because of discrimi-
nation when their criminal career and prison record become known to
employers (Lemert, 1951:331-332). As a result of incarceration we would
also expect convicts to harbor a great deal of resentment toward the
"free" community and "reject the rejectors," thus facilitating a return to
criminal associations and patterns (Lemert, 1951:77).
Data bearing upon the above hypotheses comes from Glaser's (1964)
exhaustive research on the effectiveness of the federal prison and pa-
role system. Lengthy reports were obtained from interviews and other
modes of data collection pertaining to the experiences of several hun-
dred federal prisoners in a modified panel design.
Using a cohort analysis, Glaser found that approximately one-third
of parolees are recidivists between two and five years after parole is
granted (Glaser, 1964:13-31).
ill the area of post-release occupational adjustment Glaser finds that
failure to achieve satisfactory employment is due primarily to unrealis-
tic aspirations in view of the lack of skills held by ex-convicts. Stigma did
not seem to play a significant role in occupational adjustment. Only four
per cent of the job terminations of parolees were blamed (by the men
themselves) on their previous criminal record. Similarly only nine per
cent of the parolees who were unable to obtain a job within one week
after parole attributed itlo the stigma of their criminal past (Glaser,
10t::/J."Jt:o "Jt::1 \
30. Milton Mankoff 423
Glaser's research can be dealt with critically, and it may well be that
he under-represents by far the true recidivism rate and fails to consider
the possibility that parolees were "putting on" the interviewers, at-
tributing adjustment failures to their own limitations in order to show a
"positive" attitude toward the rehabilitation process. 4 ill any case his
research suggests that the notion that prisons are criminogenic may re-
quire further study.
Cameron's (1964) study of professional and amateur shoplifters of-
fers more evidence that the labeling process does not necessarily lead to
career deviance. When amateur shoplifters ("snitches") were appre-
hended by department store detectives they were unable to accept them-
selves as "thieves" and ceased pilfering.
Finally, Chambliss (1969:360-378), in summarizing the literature on
deterrence, has argued that rule-breakers who have a low commitment
to criminal activity as a way of life and whose criminal behavior is in-
strumental rather than expressive (e.g., snitches, white collar criminals,
gangland murders) may be deterred by punishment rather than become
career deviants as a consequence of societal reaction.
Thus, the labeling perspective on career deviance does not appear to
be very useful in understanding the dynamics of achieved rule-brealdng.
Societal reaction seems to be neither a necessary nor a sufficient condi-
tion for career-achieved deviance. The essential feature of achieved rule-
breal<ing, the necessity for action on the part of the rule-breaker as well
as sOciallabeling by community members, makes it possible for rule-
breakers to commit themselves to deviant careers without being
"forced" by formal or informal agents of social control and to terminate
rule-breaking despite the lack of social recognition for "rehabilitation."
Moreover, such possibilities have been realized in the empirical world.
Achieved rule-breaking permits individual adaptations to sociallabeling
and social structures which are largely precluded in the case of ascribed
rule-breaking.
PROBLEMS OF THEORY AND RESEARCH
In the previous section some evidence has been presented to suggest
that societal reaction theory is not an adequate general theory of career
deviant behavior. As a theoretical model it appears to be most applicable
when rule-breaking is ascribed rather than achieved. Even in the as-
cribed case labeling probably serves only as a necessary rather than a
necessary and sufficient condition for career deviance.
In examining some of the evidence pertaining to labeling theory, I
, ___ • ____ • _____ , _ .1 _____ r ___ ". __ ,. __
1 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 1 ______ • • _ _ ~ __ .1 __ • __ , ____ , " ___ , _ _ • __ ••
 424 Labeling and Deviance
ranted. It is conceivable that some of the evidence cited which casts
doubt on the "completeness" of labeling theory can be reinterpreted by
proponents of the theory in such a manner as to justify its claim to be a
general theory of career deviance. Moreover, as Hirschi and Selvin
(1967:119-123) point out, it is a false criterion for causality to require
"independent" variables to be related to "dependent" variables as nec-
essary and/ or sufficient conditions for their existence. Social labeling
undoubtedly plays an important role in the generation of career devia-
tion in many cases. Nevertheless, it is probably not as crucial in this
process as some of its proponents would claim.
In order to aid in the development of a more complete theory of ca-
reer deviance, I shall briefly discuss some of the shortcomings which
limit the utility of the labeling perspective, particularly in considering
achieved rule-breaking.
The most salient theoretical difficulty is in the conception of initial
rule-breaking and the nature of the sources which bring it into being.
There is a premise in the writings of the labeling theorists that whatev-
er the causes of initial rule-breaking, they assume minimal importance
or entirely cease operation after initial rule-breaking (Scheff, 1966:50-54;
Lemert, 1967:40). Without such a premise, one might attribute career
deviance and its consequences not to societal reaction but to the contin-
ued effects of social structural strains, psychological stress, or disease
states which produced initial rule-breaking.
In this connection, the labeling model fails to seriously consider the
possibility that deviant behavior may be persisted in even when the
rule-breaker has every opportunity to return to the status of nondeviant
(Becker, 1963:37), because of a positive attachment to rule-breaking.
Given the fact that theorists within the labeling tradition often see their
views as consistent with a conflict interpretation of deviance, as op-
posed to one involving consensus which attributes deviance to faulty so-
cialization, one can find significant traces of consensual thinking implicit
in their theorizing. The societal reaction paradigm implies that labelers
really share the same Weltansc!uwllng as rule-breakers. The only problem
is that rule-breakers are imperfect creatures who sh'ay from the fold on
occasion. The logic of the labeling approach to career deviance precludes
rule-breakers being credited (or discredited) with freely espousing career
deviance as a positive alternative to career conformity. Labeling the rule-
breaker will only serve to prevent his rapprochement with the non-rule-
breaking elements of the community. Deviant conduct and attacrunent to
a deviant role will strengthen when the community isolates and ex-
cludes the transgressor from nonnal social life. Implicit in the labeling
model is the belief that iule-breakers really want to confonn, even the
.............. ~";I1.j:,, 1 ...... ~ .... ~
30. :Milton Mankoff 425
There are some labeling theorists who admit the possibility that ini-
tial rule-breaking behavior may be the product of a desire to reorganize
the world or a particular segment of it. Scheff (1966:44-45), for example,
illustrates this point by a discussion of the Dadaist movement in the
arts, but unfortunately his defense of the innovative, willful rule-break-
er is obviated by the fact that he traces the growth of the movement in
terms of the enormous hostility toward it expressed by orthodox artists
and critics. One might argue that it was the severity of the societal reac-
tion which made the Dadaists more self-conscious of their "revolution-
ary" acts and more tenacious in their defense of those acts. Thus, Scheff
(1966:44-45), even when defending the Weltmlschazlllllg of the rule-break-
er undermines the defense by implying the possibility of involuntary
career deviance.
Becker (1963) explicitly considers the possibility of "intended" rule-
breaking. Often, in his ethnographic accounts, as in the case of the re-
search on the dance musician (Becker, 1963:79-119) as well as the
marijuana user (Becker, 1963:41-78), he seems to accept the existence of
a self-sustaining cotlllter-culture based on deviant identities. Neverthe-
less, a careful reading of Becker's "sequential model" for career deviance
makes one conclude that given the chance to resume nonnal activities,
the rule-breaker will invariably do so (Becker, 1963:36--39). His exam-
ples range from boys who engage in homosexual behavior without re-
ally believing in it to tortured heroin addicts. He talks of deviants
fonning subcultures which provide them with "rationalizations" for
their deviance. The examples used and the terminology employed seem
to betray the theorist's doubts about the legitimacy of deviant careers.
Such doubts are necessarily linked to the labeling theory of career de-
viance which sees unfettered rule-breaking co-existing with the main-
tenance of social order. if rule-breakers truly represented subversive
values such a co-existence would be untenable. The discrepancy be-
tween empirical research and theory constTuction is characteristic of la-
beling theory and shall be discussed shortly.
Another theoretical problem arises in regard la the issue of social
sensitivity. After an actor engages in rule-breaking behavior he may feel
shame, guilt, or fear of exposure. As Becker (1963:31) realizes, it is pos-
sible that this in itself may be sufficient to have the primary deviant
label himself as "deviant," and he may then engage in all kinds of be-
haviors to cover up his initial rule-breaking and tlllwittingly exacerbate
the problem (cf., Matza, 1969:150-152). Such "vicious cycles" apparent-
ly OCCllr among stutterers and alcoholics (Lemert, 1967:56-57). Even
granting that cultural standards are ultimately responsible for making
the primary deviant self-conscious, simply focusing on labelers while ig-
___ : _ _ LL _____ 1:..: ___ Cd _____ I_l_ .. __ l._ .. ____ 1._.1.. '_.1 . . . 1. __ :_
 426 Labeling and Deviance 30. Milton Mankoff 427

in understanding the dynamics of career deviance. It is important to de- lieved in the validity of labeling theory (since the researcher would
termine the sources and salience of self-labeling in the development of suspect that he was pOSSibly dooming his experimental group to career
career deviance. deviance).
A final theoretical dilemma involves the nature of the societal reac-
tion itself. As mentioned earlier, labeling theorists have not clearly spec-
ified what sort of reaction on the part of community members-formal, LABELING THEORY AND THE SOCIOLOGY OF
informal, or both-is necessary and/ or sufficient to produce career de- KNOWLEDGE
viation. Lemert (1967:42) claims that to establish a totally deviant iden-
tity, stigmatization must be disseminated throughout the society. This is In the previous section I spoke about the seeming incongruity between
very unlikely to occur in advanced societies for almost allY rule-breaking empirical research and theory construction which characterizes much
phenomenon. If we ignore Lemert's extreme statement we find that the of the scholarship that falls within the labeling tradition. When "theory"
lack of specification as to the type and severity of sodetal reaction makes ignores what research uncovers, one often finds a problem that is trace-
the labeling theory impossible to refute. It can always be maintained able to "ideology" rather than the competence of professionals. This
that either a mild societal reaction is sufficient or that a different kind of issue must be squarely addressed if the study of social deviance is to
reaction or more severe form of the same one would account for career attain scientific respectability and provide a guide to public policy.
deviance. In this manner one can explain all findings and predict none. Sociologists in general, and those who study deviant behavior in
Moreover, it can once again lead to a reductionist position in which it is particular, are often beset by ambivalence in carrying out their life's
the extreme sensitivity of the primary deviants (this time, to an actual so- work. On the one hand they are committed to value-neutrality and
cietal reaction) which leads them to permanent entrenchment in deviant objectivity as part of their professional training; on the other hand, they
roles. frequently side with the perspective of the "underdog" and view them-
The major theoretical difficulties mentioned above generate relat- selves as liberal reformers in their role as citizens. Frequently, they try to
ed research dilemmas. One problem involves controlling the effects of combine both roles (Turnin, 1965; Becker, 1967).
the sources of initial rule-breaking; another involves controlling for the Because of the operation of unique historical forces, American soci-
sensitivity of the rule-breaker to the possibility and actuality of societal ology was based upon the synthesis of liberal reforrnism and the social
reaction. Only by such a procedure can the impact of actual societal re- theories of European conservatives with their preoccupation with the
action be weighted. problem of social order (Parsons, 1937, 1951; Nisbet, 1966; Nicolaus,
Unfortunately, natural field settings make it impossible to ade- 1969). As time went by the ideological roots of modern American soci-
qua tely assess the theory because of the impossibility of controlling ology were forgotten, and the concerns of the field, while still retaining
for either of the MO variables which might confound the effects of ac- their conservative bias, were rephrased in the seemingly value-neutral
tual societal reaction. Comparing experimental and control groups on language of contemporary sociological discourse (e.g., functions, dys-
these variables would require labeling both to see if they are equally functions, social disorganization). TIle continuing focus of sociological
"sensitive." To do this would obviously eliminate the usefulness of the inquiry has, of course, been reinforced by the political context in which
control group since it would cease serving that function at the point American sociologists seek research support (Nicolaus, 1969; Gouldner,
when its members were influenced by a particular kind (mode and in- 1968,1970).
tensity) of societal reaction. An experimental design, as advocated by Given the intellectual and professional orientation of modem soci-
Scheff (1966:199), on the other hand, is objectionable principally on ologists trained in and practicing their craft in the United States, it is
ethical grounds. Two groups (experimental and control) would have to understandable that a conflict should arise between the scientific and cit-
be chosen from a population of primary deviants unaware that they izen roles of the profeSSional sociologist. Thus, most sociologists, who
are rule-breakers. Randomization could be used to control for the wish "society" to be more tolerant of rule-breaking and solve various
sources of primary deviation and social sensitivity. Unfortunately, even "social problems" while still retaining social cohesiveness and institu-
if it were possible to locate potential experimental subjects, the neces- tional continuity, must demonstrate that labeling and repression are in-
sary invocation of societalreaction with the experimental group would imical to the long-term stability of America's social institutions. Only
ha "',.., nhHi ..... ,.C" Hi .... 1., .............. f ............ t: . ." .... ; ........... 1 ";.1-..;...,,.., ...... ~_h ... "l~ .. l~.:£ ~~~ 1..._ ;_ ..1...;_ ••• _ •• ___ ~1...~., ~~ .. ;~CTT •. J...~ ~ ........ ,,: ............ ,., ... ~,.. At: ~J...,.,; .. .....r.t:n""";r. ... fra",h,
 428 Labeling tlnd Deviance 30. Milton Mankoff 429

express their political views, and develop cogent arguments acceptable
to very conservative public policy decision-makers.
Unfortunately, the consequence of such a complex posture is to fail
as a competent scientist, lose faith in the liberal political analysis, and
meet rejection by "realistic" policy-makers, when the "data" fail to con-
form to expectations. Neither repression nor the lack of it Seems to affect
the propensity of youth to use psychedelic drugs; student activism
grows whether the campuses are administered by "doves" or "hawks."
Repression even seems to work better, at least in the short run, but at the
ex-pense of increasingly widespread alienation from authority.
The preoccupation with labeling as the source of chronic rule-break-
ing may blind sociologists to macro-sociological analysis which traces
social instability and career deviance to the very institutional arrange-
ments-economic, political, cultural-that are supposed to maintain
order. s Unfortunately, returning to the neglected concerns of an institu-
tion-and conflict-oriented macro-sociology-may upset the symbiotic
links betvveen sociology as a profession and the sources of its material
sustenance. Moreover, knowledge acqUired through such an effort may
destroy the strain of optimism that reformers have carefully nurtured
despite attacks from the Left and Right. Liberal sociologists may not be
able to have their cake and eat it: either certain "subversive" forms of
rule-breaking may have to be suppressed via police state methods, Or so-
ciallife may have to be reorganized around values other than profit,
productivity, and puritanism. In this regard, Erikson's (1966) macro-la-
beling perspective, emphasizing the functions of deviance and social
control for the maintenance of social order, may demonstrate a willing-
ness to face unpleasant choices not shared by micro-labeling theorists
who focus on the functions of social control in the generation of deviant
careers.
In order not to end on a somber note entirely, it might well be pos-
sible to eliminate negative sanctions against ascribed rule-breakers with-
out endangering the social order. However, even this policy would have
to be accompanied by a profound alteration in the minds of our citizens
as well as the creation of new ways to deal with the economic problems
associated with the incorpora tion of millions of persons into a labor
market unable to provide employment, even demeaning employment,
for many of its beautiful, healthy, white males.
CONCLUSION
This paper has been concerned with the empirical validation of one of
~h .......... ~ ... ~ ,..;~;I.;,,~_~ II~J... ... ~_;" ... II ...l ... _;y .... ...l L...,,~ ~J..." 1~J...,,1;_~ _,.._,,_,..,,!.l .....
namely, rule-breakers become entrenched in deviant roles because they
are labeled "deviant" by others and are consequently excluded from re-
suming normal societal roles. By dividing rule-breaking phenomena
into two major types, ascribed and achieved rule-breaking distinguished
by the necessity of rule-breaking activity on the part of the rule-breaker,
the paper has attempted to demonstrate that the utility of this theory is
severely limited.
Ascribed rule-breaking, because it involves a passive rule-breal<er al-
most totally dependent upon the whims of sociallabelers, exemplifies
the kind of rule-breaking phenomena for which the labeling model is
most applicable. Even in this case, however, while sociallabeling may be
a necessary condition for career deviance, it is probably not a sufficient
condition for such a development. Variations in power, sodo-economic
status, the acquisition of compensatory skills, and defense mechanisms
may permit some labeled ascribed rule-breakers to avoid career de-
viance. Nevertheless, collective attempts to change social values, be-
liefs, and institutions are probably necessary to end ascribed deviance in
the face of the dependence of ascribed rule-breakers upon prevailing
community ideology and behavior.
In the case of achieved rule-breaking, the labeling model is ex-
tremely inadequate in providing an explanation for the genesis of ca-
reer deviance. Labeling theorists ignore the possibility of genuine
commitment on the part of the rule-breaker to achieved career deviance.
This failure of analYSis stems from an underestimation of the impor-
tance of social and psychological factors other than labeling in generat-
ing deviant careers. Finally, labeling theory underestimates the
possibilities for successful social control through labeling. TIle evidence
suggests that while the labeling process may play a significant role in the
development of career-achieved deviance it is neither a necessary nor
sufficient condition for such an outcome.
Besides considering the particular strengths and weaknesses of the
labeling model in regard to the generation of career ascribed and
achieved deviance, the paper has also discussed some of the major
dilemmas pertaining to theory and research which must be faced by
those who may wish to assess labeling theory in the future. Among the
theoretical problems are the previously stated failure to consider the
continJlillg effects of the social structural and psychological sources of
initial rule-breaking in the development of career deviance, the lack of
concern with the vulnerability of certain rule-breakers to self-labeling
processes which may reduce the significance of objective labeling prac-
tices in determining deviant careers, and tlle related omission of any se-
rious analysis of the types and severity of actual social sanction which
f~ri1ibl~p ""l1r(,ps"f1l1" bhp\inp". t l1Hm~~plv. stllopnrs nf cipvi~n('p will
 3D" Milton Mankoff 431
430 Labeling and Deviance

ul ty es under analysis m this paper were

have to reconsider the mechanistic assumptions of labeling theory when McKinney (1966). Th,e(i;~~~ cO~Id~ratiOn of role relationships. The ele-
applied to achieved and to a lesser degree ascribed rule-breaking. The drawn from Parsons bili"b"es for actwe role-making rather than
" "ty <and the POSSI chi d roles as opposed to asen·b ed
ment 0 f recIproo •
implicit notions of human passivity, so characteristic of behaviorism, paSSIve role-accepting impliCIt m a elve f au~onomy charactenstic of
seem out of place in a sociological tradition that has been founded upon b m contrast to tle l ac k 0 I th
ones, were feIt I0 e th I b ling perspective By exp Ofmg e
penetrating observations of the creative potential of human beings. Re- t
the IdeaI- ypIC · al rule breaker
- < ill
•
e a e ul
t apphes to types of r e- rea b king ,
searchers will have to learn to control the effects of the sources of initial unpltcations of Parsons' dlstlm~~on as ~rspective IS dependent upon a pas-
rule-breaking and sensitivity to self-Iabeling and particular types of so- it IS possIble to see how the a ~ mg p d
breaking IS ascnbe .
cietal reaction. Only in this way can they demonstrate the power of ac- stYe actor wh ose ru Ie-, d h d rule-breaking, It 15, of course,
th scnbed an ac Ieve
tual labeling processes by community members in determining career 2. In the case 0 f b 0 a < d of rule-breaking (Becker,
deviance. possIble that persons are falsely a~u~~Ction5 hold because the falsely ac-
Finally, because of the observation that the empirical research of la- 196320) Nevertheless, the ab°thve 15 to be someone, whereas the falsely
b d rule-breaker 15 ought
beling theorists has often provided evidence which contradicts the la- cused ascn e felt to have done somethmg
accused achieved rule-breaker IS f t looking for a labelmg process
beIing model of career deviance the paper has briefly explored some of
3. 1t would not be fatr to fault Beck:e~: ~; studIed in the early 1950s But
the ideological and social sources of this model. It has suggested that the operating among the manJuan a b I anner his ongmal thought on
model arises out of a tension between the refonnist ideological orienta- smce he h as no t reVlsed ill any essen a IDclassic study In a vo Iume w hlch
. t his
tions of most sociologists of deviance, the conservative bias of American becorrung a user and chose to re}~:elin theory (Be~ker,
sociology derived from European conservative social theory, and the mcludes his particular verSlOn 0 thg t he would have reconsIdered ei-
e
pressures arising from the sources of political and financial support for 1963:19-39;41-58) one would Ima g: .a~ce or his manJuana srudy at the
the American sociological profession. These three factors have permitted ther his theoretIcal perspectIve on eVl
some sociologists to become advocates of a theoretical perspective which time. , , el high it does not follow that
E if the true recidivism rate IS e~t:em y ' . , lity. An alter-
resolves the tensions which are rooted in the conflict between ideolo- 4. yen ,~ fficient condItion for career cnmma .
gy, professionalism, and political and financial pressure. UnforhmatelJ" societal reaction 1S a su f· . tial rule-breaking are still
. 'ht be that the causes 0 uu al d
the inadequacy of the labeling perspective leads to ideological, scien- nate explanation mlg ,. F mple if a poor man ste< san
. ation IS over or exa , till
tific, and political bankruptcy" It is suggested tilat sociologists of social operating after mcarcer fut" 10" steal after release because he is s
is sent to pnso. n , he may con ue <
t tion to the commuru.ty sm " ce
deviance concern themselves more with macro-sociological analysis in oor. Prison may provide temporary pro ec, talll crimID-al acts, but it
the future, focusing primarily on the institutional sources of career de- P ," position to engage ID cer f
the rule-breaker IS m no . 'd 1 -term solution to the problem 0
viance. This focus may lead to greater understanding of the nature of ca- is questionable whether It praVI eS a ong
reer deviance, although it may result in shifting ideological, political "law and order." , "th· terviewer it is also possible, of
and professional orientation for those who undertake this task. " eof"puttmg on e m ' consciousness " an d
As f or th e ISSU . xhib'tin "false
In conclusion, this paper has left many problems unresolved, par- course, that the ex-conVIcts ",:,ere e d' 1. ~ a tory hiring policies, If this is
f
ticularly the difficulties involved in the conceptualization and opera- were not aware 0 f th e operation, 0 l5crmun victs may not become emb', I-
t recidiVIsm as ex-con I
tionalization of "societal reaction" and the development of a viable so it might we II preven ' . ply become career "ritua -
t red and "reject the rejectors." They may SlID
research program designed to test the labeling model adequately. Nev- e ,) ftheterm .
ists" in Merton s (1938 sense 0 G t D ression did attempt such an
ertheless, directing attention toward some of the outstanding weak-
Merton (1938), in the midst of the rkea 14:~Pe provodative had numerouS
nesses of the model as it currently stands will hopefully lead to more 5" analysis of socla " IdeVl'ance ' The wor ,WU-! ut of favor' in recent years,
productive attempts to grapple with the problems associated with the flaws (Clinard, 1964) and seems to have gone 0
phenomenon of career deviance.

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 432 Labeling and Deviance 30. Milton Mankoff 433

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Turner, R.
1953 "The quest for universals in sociological research." American Socio-
lOgical Review 18 (December):604-611.
Contemporary Application
31 Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia: The Development of
Deviant Identities
PENELOPE A. MCLORG and DIANE E. TAUB
INTRODUCTION
Current appearance norms stipulate thinness for women and muscu-
larity for men; these expectations, like any norms, entail rewards for
co~pliance ar:d ne~ative sanc~ons for violations. Fear of being over-
welg~t-of bemg Visually deVIant-has led to a striving for thinness,
espeCIally among women. In the extreme, this avoidance of overweight
engenders eating disorders, which themselves constitute deviance
Anorexia nervosa, or purposeful starvation, embodies visual as well a~
behavioral ~eviation; .buli~ia,. binge-eating followed by vomiting
and! or .laxative abuse, 15 pnmanly behaviorally deviant.
B~sldes a fear of fatness, anorexics and bulimics exhibit distorted
bo~y Images. In anorexia nervosa, a 20-25 percent loss of initial body
weIght occurs, resulting from self-starvation alone or in combination
~th excessive exercising, occasional binge-eating, vomiting and/or lax-
allve abuse. Bulimia denotes cyclical (daily, weekly, for example) binge-
eabng followed by vonuting or laxative abuse; weight is normal or close
to normal (Humphries et aL, 1982). Common physical manifestations
of these eating disorders include menstrual cessation or irregularities
Equal co-aut,hors. This paper is a revised version of a manuscript presented at the 1986
<1~n~al meetings of the Southern Sociological Society, New Orleans. Reprinted by per-
~ls~lOn from De~inl1l BdllHJior, 8:177~189, 1987. Copyright © 1987 by Hemisphere Pllb-
hshmg CorporatIOn.
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 435
and electrolyte imbalances; among behavioral traits are depression, ob-
- sessions/ compulsions, and anxiety (Russell, 1979; Thompson and
Schwartz, 1982).
Increasingly prevalent in the past two decades, anorexia nervosa
and bulimia have emerged as major health and social problems. Termed
an epidemic on college campuses (Brody, as quoted in Schur, 1984:76),
bulimia affects 13% of college students (Halmi et al., 1981). Less preva-
lent, anorexia nervosa was diagnosed in 0.6()lo of students utilizing a
university health center (Stangler and Printz, 1980). However, the over-
all mortality rate of anorexia nervosa is m{J (Schwartz and Thompson,
1981) to 20% (Bumphries et aI., 1982); bulimia appears to be less life-
threatening (Russell, 1979).
Particularly affecting certain demographic groups, eating disor-
ders are most prevalent among young, white, affluent (upper-middle
to upper class) women in modern, industrialized countries (Crisp,
1977; Willi and Grossman, 1983). Combining all of these risk factors
(female sex, youth, high socioeconomic status, and residence in an in-
dustrialized country), prevalence of anorexia nervosa in upper class
English girls' schools is reported at 1 in 100 (Crisp et aI., 1976). The
age of onset for anorexia nervosa is bimodal at 14.5 and 18 years
(Humphries et al., 1982); the most frequent age of onset for bulimia is
18 (Russell, 1979).
Eating disorders have primarily been studied from psychological
and medical perspectives. 1 Theories of etiology have generally fallen
into three categories: the ego psychological (involving an impaired child-
maternal environment); the family systems (implicating enmeshed, rigid
families); and the endocrinological (involving a precipating hormonal
defect). Although relatively ignored in previous studies, the sociocul-
tural components of anorexia nervosa and bulimia (the slimness norm
and its agents of reinforcement, such as role models) have been postu-
lated as accounting for the recent, dramatic increases in these disorders
(Schwartz et al., 1982; Boskind-White, 1985)2
Medical and psychological approaches to anorexia nervosa and
bulimia obscure the social facets of the disorders and neglect the in-
dividuals' own definitions of their situations. Among the social
processes involved in the development of an eating disorder is the
sequence of conforming behavior, primary deviance, and secondary
deviance. Societal reaction is the critical mediator affecting the move-
ment through the deviant career (Becker, 1973). Within a framework of
labeling theory, this study focuses on the emergence of anorexic and
bulimic identities, as well as on the consequences of being career de-
viants.
 31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 437
436 LabellIlg and Deviance

METHODOLOGY Modeled after Alcoholics Anonymous, BANISH alltohwO~~!:r:~~

. h . b k ounds and expenences Wl
pants to dISCUSS t elf ac gr b the group constituted their only
SAMPLING AND PROCEDURES empathized. For many mer:n~~~ere reluctant to contact health pro-
Most research on eating disorders has utilized clinical subjects or non- sow:ce of help; these fre~r::::: embarrassment, or financial difficulties.
clinical respondents completing questionnaires. Such studies can be crit- fessl~na~d~~~nU~~ ~e~d not~s from group meetings, r:~ords of ?~~e~
icized for simply counting and describing behaviors and/or neglecting a . 11 members were maintained. PartiCIpants VISl e
the social construction of the disorders. Moreover, the work of clinicians encounters WIth a h (D ET) called both researchers by
is often limited by therapeutic orientation. Previous research may also the office o~ ~ne. ~f dtht~::e:~cthe:i~ h~~e~ 'or out for a cup of coffee.
have included individuals who were not in therapy on their own voli- phone, an mVl e . . . urtication and mutual trust.
tion and who resisted admitting that they had an eating disorder. Such interacti~: ~~~:!~~t~:dY~~d~~~S c~=did not attend the meetings
Past studies thus disregard the intersubjective meanings respon- Even among t . t ' cl with ten members on a monthly
regularly, contact was mam ame
dents attach to their behavior and emphasize researchers' criteria for
definition as anorexic or bulimic. In order to supplement these sam- basis. .' 'nformal interviews with fifteen
pling and procedural designs, the present study utilizes participant ob- Supplementmg fI~ld not: ~;~e t~ four hours. Because they ap-
servation of a group of self-defined anorexics and bulimics.3 As the group members, I~~:r~ ~~ensive experience with eating disorders,
individuals had acknowledged their eating disorders, frank discussion peared to represen rfy their comments about the
these interviewees were ch~sen to amp~eetings Conducted near the
and disclosure were facilitated.
Data are derived from a self-help group, BANISH, Bulimics/ labeling process, made dunn~ group. d the i~terviews focused on
tvv observatIOn peno , .
Anorexics In Self-Help, which met at a university in an urban center of end of theo-year ht tedated and maintained their eatmg
the mid-South. Founded by one of the researchers (D.E.T.), BANISH W.hat the respon~e.nts th~~~i :;ts described others' reactions to their
was advertised in local newspapers as offering a group experience for dIsorders. In addltion, p. p. t tations of these reactions. To
individuals who were anorexic or bulimic. Despite the local advertise- ~~~~:CitO;~ea~;~;~:~t:~~~~ °07~n%:tJ'~:ls quoted in the study, pseu-
ments, the campus location of the meetings may have selectively en-
donyms are employed.
couraged university students to attend. Nonetheless, in view of the
modal age of onset and socioeconomic status of individuals with eating
disorders, college students have been considered target populations DESCRIPTION Of MEMBERS
(Crisp et al., 1976; Halmi et aI., 1981). . f tl mple typifies what has been
The group's weekly two-hour meetings were observed for two The ~e~oo~~!h:~~~:~~~~ea~d ;:~:s, 1976; CriSp, 1977; Her~og,
years. During the course of this study, thirty individuals attended at
least one of the meetings. Attendance at meetings was varied: ten indi- 1~~~; s~~eSier-Strop~h 1!8e4~~~~~~g~~~i~~~~:~:y~~~~e~~:::r~~~
viduals came nearly every Sunday; five attended approximately twice a teen to tlurty-sh'Xt~ WI d all but one were female. The sole male and
dents were w 1 e, an .' f I bu-
month; and the remaining fifteen participated once a month or less fre- three of the females were anorexic; the remammg ema es were
quently, often when their eating problems were "more severe" or
"bizarre." The modal number of members at meetings was twelve. The limi~:imarilY composed of college students, the group included fOil~
diversity in attendance was to be expected in self-help groups of anorex-
ks and bulimics. non-students, three of ;r~~7d~~d o~o:~;:r~~~~eee:c~::r~~~~~:a~:.
bers denved from upp t d nts were never-marrieds and
... most people's involvement will not be forever or even a long time. · I t en students and two non-S u e
EIgl . d
e . l' . t 0 non-students were marne
Most people get the support they need and drop out. Some take the
time to help others after they themselves have been helped but even
uninvo~ved in ser.joils re.latlOnSt~~:~t~ were divorced (one with two
they may withdraw after a time. It is a natural and in many cases nec- (one WIth two chIldren), two 5 . I ed in serious relationshipS.
'ld ). cl six students were 111VO v
essary process ... (emphasis in original) (American Anorexia/Bulimia ChI ren an J . . d cl from three to fifteen years.
Association, 1983). The duration of eatmg dIsor er range

438 Labeling and Deviance
CONFORMING BEHAVIOR
In th~ backgrow:ds ?f ~ost anorexics and bulirnics, dieting figures
prommently, begmnmg in the teen years (Crisp, 1977; Johnson et al.,
1982; Lacey et al., 1986). As dieters, these individuals are conformist
in their adherence to the cultural norms emphasizing thinness (Gar-
ner et al., 1980; Schwartz et al., 1982), In our society, slim bodies are
regarded as the most worthy and attractive; overweight is viewed
as pl~1sically an~, morally unhealthy-"obscene," "lazy," "slothful:'
and gluttonous (DeJong, 1980; Ritenbaugh 1982' Schwartz et al
1982). " "
~~ng the agents of sorialization promoting the slimness norm is
advert~smg. Female models in newspaper, magazine, and television
advertisemen~s are uniformly slender. In addition, product names and
sloga~~;xpIOlt the :~ o~;ntation; exam~!es include "Ultra Slim Lip-
stick, ~lller Lite, and VrrglnIa Slims. While retaining pressures
towa: d thinness, an Ayds commercial attempts a compromise for those
wanting to savor food: 'l\yds,. ,so you can taste, chew, and enjoy. while
you lose weight." Appealing particularly to women, a nationwide fast-
food restaurant chain offers low-calorie selections, so individuals can
~a,:"e a "license to eat." In the latter two examples, the notion of en-
Joymg food is combined with the message to be slim, Food and restau-
rant a~vertisements overall convey the pleasures of eating, whereas
~dvertisements for other products, such as fashions and diet aids, re-
mforce the idea that fatness is undesirable.
Emphasis on being slim affects everyone in our culture, but it in-
fluences women especially because of society's traditional emphasis
on women's appearance. The slimness norm and its concomitant nar-
row beauty stan?ards exacerbate the objectification of women (Schur,
1984). ~omen View themselves as visual entities and recognize that
:onformmg to appearance expectations and "becoming attractive ob-
Ject[s] [are]role obligation[s]" (Laws, as quoted in Schur, 1984:66).
Demonstrating the beauty motivation behind dieting, a recent Nielson
0:
s~rvey in~cated that the 56 percent of all women aged 24 to 54 who
dieted durmg the prevlOus year, 76 percent did so for cosmetic, rather
than health: reasons (Schwartz et aI., 1982). For most female group
members, dIeting was VIewed as a means of gaining attractiveness and
~ppeal to the opposite sex, The male respondent, as well, indicated that
when I was fat, girls didn't look at me, but when I got thinner, I was
suddenly popular."
In addition ~o responding to the specter of obesity, individuals Who
devel~p anoreXIa nervosa and bulimia are conformist in their strong
commltrnpnt tn nth", ............ H" ... ~ ... __ l ______ ...1 1,.,...,
I
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 439
I
excel at school and work (Russell, 1979; Bruch, 1981; Hurnphries et aI.,
1982), maintaining high aspirations in both areas (Theander, 1970; Lacey
et aI., 1986). Group members generally completed college-preparatory
courses in high school, aware from an early age that they would strIve
for a college degree. Also, in college as well as high school, respon-
dents joined honor societies and academic clubs. .
Moreover, pre-anorexics and -bulimics display notable convention-
ality as "model children" (Humphries et aL, 1982:199), "the pride and
joy" of their parents (Bruch, 1981:21S}, a:c.omrnodatmg ~1emselves t?
the wishes of others. Parents of these mdlvIduals emphasIze conforIDl-
ty and value achievement (Bruch, 1981). Respondents felt that perfect or
near-perfect grades were expected of them; however, good grade~ were
not rewarded by parents, because "As" were common for these children.
In addition, their parents suppressed conflicts, to preserve the image of
the "all-American family" (Humphries et aL, 1982). Group members re-
ported that they seldom, if ever, heard their parents argue or raise their
voices.
Also conformist in their affective ties, individuals who develop
anorexia nervosa and bulimia are strongly, even excessively, attached
to their parents. Respondents' families appeared close-knit, demon-
strating palpable emotional ties. Several group members, for example,
. reported habitually calling home at prescribed times, whether or not
they had any news. Such families have been termed "enmeshed" and
"overprotective," displaying intense interaction and concern for mem-
bers' welfare (Minuchin et aL, 1978; Selvini-Palazzoli, 1978). These qual-
ities could be viewed as marked conformity to the norm of familial
closeness. s
Another element of notable conformity in the family milieu of pre-
anorexics and -bulimics concerns eating, body weight/ shape, and exer-
cising (Kalucy et al., 1977; Humphries et al., 1982). Respondents reported
their fathers' preoccupation with exercising and their mothers' en-
grossment in food preparation. When group members dieted and lost
weight, they received an extraordinary amount of approval. Am.?n?" l.he
family, body size became a matter of "friendly rivalry." One bulimic in-
formant recalled that she, her mother, and her coed sister all strived to
wear a size 5, regardless of their heights and body frames. Subs:quent to
this study, the researchers learned that both the mother and slster had
become bulimic.
As pre-anorexics and -bulimics, group members thus exhibited
marked conformity to cultural norms of thinness, achievement, com-
pliance, and parental attachment. Their families reinforced. their con-
formity by adherence to norms of family closeness and weIght/body
..

440 Labeling and Deviance
PRIMARY DEVIANCE
Even ",:ith familial encouragement, respondents, like nearly all dieters
(C~emm, 1981~, failed to maintain their lowered weights. Many cited
theIr l~ck of will 'p0.wer to eat only restricted foods. For the emerging
anoreXlcs ~d bulirnic~ ~xtremes such as puposeful starvation or hinging
acco~p~ed by vonuting and/ or laxative abuse appeared as "obvious
soluti~ns to the problem of retaining weight loss. Associated with these
behavlOfs was a regained feeling of control in lives that had been dis-
rupted by a major crisis. Group members' extreme weight-loss efforts
ope~ated .as coping mechanisms for entering college, leaving home, or
feelmg rejected by the opposite sex.
'f.h€
primary inducement for both eating adaptations was the drive
for ~ru:nness: with slimness came more self-respect and a feeling of su-
freTloTlty ~v~r "unsucce:sful diet~rs." Brian, for example, experienced a
power trip u~on consIStent weIght loss through starvation. Binges al-
lowed the purgmg respondents to cope with stress through eating while
~amtammg. a s.hrn appe~ance. As former strict dieters, Teresa and Jen-
nifer used bmgmg!purgmg as an alternative to the constant self-denial
of starvation. Acknowledging their parents' desires for them to be slim
~ost respondents. still felt it was a conscious choice on their part to con~
tinue extreme weIght-loss efforts. Being thin became the "most impor-
tant thing" in their lives-their "greatest ambition."
In :xplaining the development of an anorexic or bulimic identity,
Lemert s (1951;1967) concept of primary deviance is salient. Primary
deVIance refers to a transItOry penod of norm violations which do not af-
fect an individual's se~~o.ncept or performance of social roles. Although
resp~ndents were exhIbIting anorexic or bulimic behavior, they did not
consIder themselves to be anorexic or bulimic.
At first, anorexics' significant others complimented their weight
loss, expounding on their new "sleekness" and "good looks." Branch
and Eurrnan (1980:631) also found anorexics' families and friends de-
scribing them as "well-groomed," "neat," "fashionable," and "victori-
ous." Not until the respondents approached emaciation did some
parents or friends beco~e conc med and withdraw their praise. Signif-
7 spondents regretted the self-indulgence, "shame," ~d, "wasted ,time/'
Icant ~~ers also bec~e m~easmgly aware of the anorexics' compulsive
exerc:smg~ p:eocc~pation WIth food preparation (but not consumption),
and n~alistic eating 'patterns (such as cutting food into minute pieces
and eating only certam foods at prescribed times).
For bulimics, friends or famlly members began to question how the
respondents could eat such, large amounts of food (often in excess of
10,000 calories a day) and stay slim. Significant others also noticed cal-
i11<:o<: ~ ..... ,.,."" '"t.~ t. •• l : _ ! __ , ,. , , • ,
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 441
ducement of vomiting. Several bulimics were "cau~ht in the act,~' bent
over commodes. Generally, friends and family reqUIred substa~tial ev-
idence before believing that the respondents' binging or purgmg was
no longer sporadic.
SECONDARY DEVIANCE
Heightened awareness of group me~bers' e.a~g ~/eha:i~r ~ltimately
led others to label the respondents anoreXIC or bulmuc.. Respon-
dents differed in their histories of being labeled and accepting the la-
bels. Generally first termed anorexic by friends, family, or medical
personnel, the anorexics initially vigorously denied the la~eL !hey felt
they were not "anorexic enough," not skinny enough; Robm dld not re-
gard herself as having the "skeletal" appearan: e ~h~ associa~ed wit~
anorexia nervosa. These group members found It difficult to differenti-
ate between socially approved modes of weight loss-eating less and
exercising more-and the extremes of those behaviors. In fact: many. of
their activities-cheerleading, modeling, gymnastics, aeroblcs-rem-
forced their pursuit of thinness. Like other anorexics, Chris felt she was
being "ultra-healthy," with "total control" over her bod~.
For several respondents, admitting they were anoreXlC followed the
realization that their lives were disrupted by their eating disorder.
Anorexics' inflexible eating patterns unsettled family meals and holi-
day gatherings. Their regimented lifestyle of compulsively scheduled
activities-exercising, school, and meals-precluded ~y spontaneous
social interactions. Realization of their adverse behavlOrs preceded the
anorexics acknowledgment of their subnormal body weight and size.
Contrasting with the anorexics, the binge! purgers, wher: confront-
ed, more readily admitted that they were bulirnic and th~~ therr me~s of
weight loss was" abnormal." Teresa, for example, knew very well that
her bulimic behavior was "wrong and unhealthy," although "worth the
physical risks." While the bulimics initially maintained that their p~rg~
ing was only a temporary weight-loss method, they eventually realIzed
that their disorder represented a "loss of control." Although these re-
they aclmowledged their growing dependence on bmgmg/purgmg for
weight management and stress regulation. .
111e application of anorexic or bulimic labels preci~ltate~ ~econdary
deviance, wherein group members internalized these IdentItIes.
Secondary deviance refers to norm violations which are a respor:se
to society's labeling: "secondary deviation ... becomes a means of SOCIal
_~..l ~_~t..l.-. ....... <' ,...,..0-:>1-0..4 1,17
, • .." _ .• __ • ___ ..
 442 Labeling and Deviance
the societal reaction to primary deviance" (Lernert, 1967:17). In contrast
to primary deviance, secondary deviance is generally prolonged, alters
the individual's self-concept, and affects the performance of his/her so-
cial roles.
As secondary deviants, respondents felt that their disorders "gave a
purpo~e" to their lives. Nicole resisted attaining a normal weight be-
cause It was not "her"-she accepted her anorexic weight as her "true"
weight. For Teresa, bulimia become a "companion"; andJulie felt "every
aspect of her life," including time management and social activities, was
affected by her bulimia. Group members' eating disorders became the
salient element of their self-concepts, so that they related to familiar
people and new acquaintances as anorexics or bulimics. For example, re-
spondents regularly compared their body shapes and sizes with those of
others. They also became sensitized to comments about their appear-
ance, whether or not the remarks were made by someone aware of their
eating disorder.
With their behavior increasingly attuned to their eating disorders,
group members exhibited role engulfment (Schur, 1971). TIlrough ac-
ceptmg anorexic or bulimic identities, individuals centered activities
~ound their deviant r?le, downgrading other social roles. Their obliga-
tions as students, family members, and friends became subordinate to
their eao,ng and exercising rituals. Socializing, for example, was gradu-
ally cur~ailed because it interfered with compulsive exercising, binging,
or purgmg.
Labeled anorexic or bulimic, respondents were ascribed a new sta-
tus with a different set of role expectations. Regardless of other posi-
tions the individuals occupied, their deviant status, or master status
(Hughes, 1958; Becker, 1973), was identified before all others. Among
group members, Nicole, who was known as the "school's brain," be-
~ame known as the "school's anorexic." No longer viewed as conform-
mg model individuals, some respondent:; were termed "starving waifs"
or "pigs."
Because of their identities as deviants, anorexics' and bulimics' in-
terac~~ns with others were altered. Group members' eating habits were
scruhruzed by friends and family and used as a "catch-all" for every-
thing negative that happened to them. Respondents felt self-conscious
~ow:d individuals who knew of their disorders; for example, Robin
lmagmed people "watching and whispering" behind her. In addition,
group members believed others expected them to "act" anorexic or bu-
limic. Friends of some anorexic group members never offered them food
or .drinl<., assuming continued disinterest on the respondents' part. While
bemg hospitalized, Denise felt she had to prove to others she was not
31. Penelope A. McLorg and Diane E. Taub 443
still vomiting, by keeping her bathroom door open. Other bulimics, who
lived in dormitories, were hesitant to use the restroom for normal pur-
poses lest several friends be huddling at the door, listening for vomiting.
In general, individuals interacted with the respo~dents largely ~n the
basis of their eating disorder; in doing so, they remforced anoreXIC and
bulimic behaviors.
Bulimic respondents, whose weight-loss behavior ,:as not.gene:al-
ly detectable from their appearance, tried earnestly to hi~e therr bulim-
ia by binging and purging in secret. Their main purpose ill concea~e~t
was to avoid the negative consequences of being known as a bulirruc.
For these individuals, bulimia connoted a "cop-out": like "weak anorex-
ics," bulimics pursued thinness but yielded to urges to eat. Respondents
felt other people regarded bulimia as "gross" and had little sympathy for
the sufferer. To avoid these stigmas or "spoiled identities," the bulimics
shrouded their behaviors.
Distinguishing types of stigma, Goffman (1963) describes discredit-
ed (visible) stigmas and discreditable (invisible) stigmas. Bulimics,
whose weight was approximately normal or even slightly elevated, har-
bored discreditable stigmas. Anorexics, on the other hand, suffered both
discreditable and discredited stigmas-the latter due to tl1eir emaciated
appearance. Certain anorexics were more reconciled than the bulimics. to
their sigmas: for Brian, the "stigma of anorexia was better than the stig-
ma of being fat." Common to the stigmatized individuals was an in-
ability to interact spontaneously with others. Respondents were
constantly on guard against topics of eating and body size.
Both anorexics and bulimics were held responsible by others for
their behavior and presumed able to "get out of it if they tried." Many
anorexics reported being told to "just eat more," while bulimics were
enjoined to simply "stop eating so much." Such appeals were ma~e
without regard for the complexities of the problem. Ostracized by certam
friends and family members, anorexics and bulimics felt increasingly
isolated. For respondents, the self-help group presented a nonthreaten-
ing forum for discussing their disorders. Here, they found mutual un-
derstanding, empathy, and support. Many participants viewed BANISH
as a haven from stigmatization by "others."
Group members, as secondary deviants, thus endured nega~ve con-
sequences, such as stigmatization, from being labeled. As they mtemal-
ized the labels anorexic or bulimic, individuals' self-concepts were
significantly influenced. When others interacted with the respondents on
the basis of their eating disorders, anorexic or bulimic identities were en-
couraged. Moreover, group members' efforts to counteract the deviant
labels were thwarted by their master statuses.
 31. Penelope A. McLorg and Dime E. Taub 445
444 Labeling and Deviance

·a/BuIum··a Association Newsletter, 1985). Thus, deviance dis-

DISCUSSION Aoo~ . . U d
1) or efforts after normalIzatIOn to counteract le e-
avowaI (Sh ur, 197 , .
viant labels, remains a topic for future exploratIOn.
Previous research on eating disorders has dwelt almost exclusively on
medical and psychological facets. Although necessary for a compre-
hensive understanding of anorexia nervosa and bulimia, these ap-
proaches neglect the social processes involved. The phenomena of eating NOTES
disorders transcend concrete disease entities and clinical diagnoses.
Multifaceted and complex, anorexia nervosa and bulimia require a holis- Although instructive, an integration of the medical, psychological, an.d so-
tic research design, in which sociological insights must be included. l. ciocultural perspectives on eating disorders is beyond the scope of thiS
A limitation of medical/psychiatric studies, in particular, is re- paper. d' . f sex
searchers' use of a priori criteria in establishing salient variables. Rather 2. Exceptions to the neglect of sociocultural fa.ctors .are lSCUSSIOns ~ , .,- _
. liz tion in the development of eatmg dISorders. AnorextcS grrl
than utilizing predetermined standards of inclusion, the present study roI e socm a . . ff "'ty cl
ish a pearance has been interpreted as a rejectIon 0 ,errunuu an .
allows respondents to construct their own reality. Concomitant to this in- wo:anhood (Orbach, 1979; Bruch, 1981; Orbach, 1985): ~n contrast, buhrn-
novative approach to eating disorders is the selection of a sample of ics have been characterized as over-conforming to tradItional female seX
self-admitted anorexics and bulimics. Individuals' perceptions of what roles (Boskind-LodahL 1976).
it means to become anorexic or bulimic are explored. Although based on AlUl0ugh a group experience for self-defined bulimics has been reported
3.
a small sample, findings can be used to guide researchers in other set- (Boskind-Lodahl, 1976), the r~se~rcher, ~o:n th~ outs~t, focused on Gestalt
tings. db haviorist techniques wlthm a femmlst onentahon. . .
With only five to ten percent of reported cases appearing in males ~ne e:planation for [ewer anorexics than bulimics in the s~ple IS that, m
(Crisp, 1977; Stangler and Printz, 1980), eating disorders are primarily a 4. the general population, anorexics are oLltnumb:red b~ b~limlcs ~t ~ or 10
women's aberrance. The deviance of anorexia nervosa and bulimia is to 1 (Law-son, as reprinted in American Anorexla/Buliml~ A~soclatlon
Newsletter, 1985:1). The proportion ofbttlimics to anoreXlCS m the sa~ple
rooted in the visual objectification of women and the attendant slim-
. 65 t 1 1 addition compared to bulimics, anorexics may be less likely
ness norm. Indeed, purposeful starvation and binging/purging rein- IS.0. n , cl d tlex
to attend a self-help group as they have a greater len ency to eny le -
force the notion that "a society gets the deviance it deserves" (Schur, istence of an eating problem (Httmphries et al., 1982). However, the four
1979:71). As recently noted (Schur, 1984), the sociology of deviance has anorexics in the present study were among the members who attended
generally bypassed systematic studies of women's norm violations. Like
the meetings most often. . . . .
male deviants, females endure label applications, internalizations, and 5. Interactions in the families of anorexics and buhrrucs ~lght seem.devlant
fulfillments. in being inordinately close. However, in the l.arger SO~letal ~ontext, the _
The social processes involved in developing anorexic or bulimic f '} members epitomize the norms of famIly coheslvene.~s. Perhaps tm
Y
identities comprise the sequence of conforming behavior, primary de- aml
usua 1 ill 111l:!'I·r occurrence these families are stiU within the realm of COI1-
I " •

viance, and secondary deviance. With a background of exceplional ad- farmity. Humphries and coUeagues (1982:202) r~,~er toY1e hlg~11y 11

herence to conventional norms, especially the striving for thinness, enmeshed and protective" family as part of the Idealized family myth.
respondents subsequently exhibit the primary deviance of starving or
hinging/purging. Societal reaction to these behaviors leads to secondary
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Branch, C. H. Hardin and Unda J. Eunnan
1980 "Social attitudes toward patients with anorexia nervosa." American
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1981 "Developmental considerations of anorexia nervosa and obesity,"
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Chemin, IGm
1981 The Obsession: Reflections on the Tyranny of Slenderness. New York:
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Fox, re c. and N. Md. James
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 448 Labeling and Deviance
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1970 'Anorexia nervosa." Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica Supplement
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CHAPTER VII
Politics and Class in the
Study of Deviance
To this point in Theories of Deviance we have presented the theoretical
perspectives that we feel have the greatest impact on the sociology of de-
viant behavior. The first three chapters, on the functional. social disor-
ganization, and anomie theories, all stress study of the structural
conditions in a complex society that are conducive to the emergence
and continuation of deviant behavior. For the functionalists, deviance is
perceived as a natural counterpart to social organization that may result
in greater social solidarity among nondeviants. Social disorganization
theorists recognize the relationship between deviance and social struc-
ture but view deviant behavior as fundamentally disruptive of the ex-
isting social order. Anomie theorists generally conclude that deviance is
endemic to modern, industrialized, highly differentiated societies.
Control theorists, discussed in Chapter V, take a different approach
that emphasizes the deviance-inhibiting effects of being closely bound to
others in the SOciety. They conclude that deviance is apt to be greater
in societies where interpersonal social bonds are weak or broken. Be-
cause control theorists start from the assumption that deviance is nat-
ural, they maintain that it is conforl1lihj that requires explanation. The
control or containment of deviant impulses depends on the ties that
bind a person to family, school, work, or other conventional institutions.
Chapter N on diHerential association and neutralization and Chap-
ter VI on labeling theory further shift attention from concern with social
structure to focus on the interactional processes that lead to and main-
tarn patterns of deviant behavior. Differential association and neutral-
ization theorists explain deviance as an outgrowth of socialization
processes, maintaining that it is through social interaction with signifi-
cant others that people !ean: the ~arioU5 m~~v~~, te~,?-~es: ~~.ra-
450 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
theorists direct attention to those who define what and who is to be con-
sidered deviant and the effects of these evaluations on those who are
labeled deviant.
For the theorists whose work is represented in this chapter on the ef-
fects of politics and class, the rules of a society grow out of political
power struggles between different interest groups, and rule enforce-
ment is largely dependent on whether it is in the interest of the most
powerful individuals or groups to have the rules enforced. The ability to
label another person's behavior as unacceptable--that is, as deviant-
and to punish that person for it is a sign of privilege and status. To be la-
beled deviant and to become the object of informal sanctions as well as
formal enforcement proceedings is symbolic of impotence and low sta-
tus. Accordingly, deviance, conceived as publicly labeled wrongdoing,
may be viewed as a product of power politics and class conflict .in soci-
ety. From this perspective, deviance is the result of a political process
wherein the politically powerful rely on law to neutralize the actions of
the less powerful.
For joseph R. Gusfield (Reading 32), the "status politics" of the
Temperance movement in the United States in the early part of the
twentieth century provides an example of an attempt by a powerful
group to impose its rules on the society. In his opinion, the questions of
whether the production, sale, and consumption of alcoholic beverages
should be legal is a matter not of morality but of the dominance of com-
peting subcultural groups. Gusfield sees the passage of the 18th Amend-
ment in 1919 and the consequent establishment of Prohibition as a
symbolic victory of middle-class, ruraL Protestant nativists over urban,
Catholic, recent immigrants. A social condition was created in which,
Gusfield says, "Even if the law is not enforced or enforceable, the sym-
bolic import of its passage is important to the reformer. It settles the
controversies between those who represent clashing cultures. The pub-
lic support of one conception of morality at the expense of another en-
hances the prestige and self-esteem of the victors and degrades the
culture of the losers." In sum, the ability of a group to establish a rule
that publicly labels a particular behavior as deviant is one measure of
that group's power and status.
An alternative to Gusfield's political theory of deviance, with its
emphasis on conflicts among ethnic, religious, or cultural groups, is to
explain it in terms of class conflict. This was the intent of "the new crim-
inology" proposed by three English sociologists, Ian Taylor, Paul Walton,
and Jock Young, in their book by that title published in 1973. They set
out to critique existing criminological theory and to propose guidelines
for an alternative way of theorizing about crime and deviance. The cen-
tral tenet of thp rririn11.Q ;C" I-J.. ...
l. l.L _ _ '_ 1
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 451
isolated from the more general study of society-a situation that fre-
quently results in the treatment of crime as a patholOgical phenomenon
that requires harsh measures of correction. Instead, Taylor, Walton, and
YOLIDg call for "a social theory of deviance" based on the economic and
political ideas of Karllvlarx, as they have been interpreted by Marxist
theorists:
With Marx, we have been concerned 'ltVith the social arrangements that
have obstructed, and the social contradictions that enhance, man's
choice of achieving full sociality-a state of freedom from material ne-
cessity, and (therefore) of material incentive, a release from the con-
straints of forced production, an abolition of the forced division of
labour, and a set of social arrangements, therefore, in which there
would be no politically, economically, and socially induced need to
crimlnalize deviance. 1
Every sociologist who has been identified with the new criminolo-
gy has not adopted Marx's terminology and approach to tl,e extent that
Steven Spitzer does in Reading 35. Richard Quinney, for example, pre-
sents in Reading 33 his theory of the social reality of crime in six precise
propositions. This compact statement also pulls together many of the
ideas that have been developed in the preceding chapters. For exam-
ple, Quinney's statement that "Crime is not inherent in behavior, but is
a judgment made by some about the actions and characteristics of oth-
ers" was anticipated by Emile Durkheim in the chapter entitled "The
Normal and the Pathological" in Tile Rllles of Sociological Method (see
Reading 1). Quinney emphasizes that criminal definitions are formu-
lated and appUed according to the interests of those groups in society
that have the power to translate their interests into public policy or
law-members of the highest social classes. Persons whose interests are
not represented in the formulation and application of law-members
of the lower social classes-are more likely to be defined as criminals.
Alexander Liazos elaborates on these points in his article "The
Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts, and 'Preverts' " (Read-
ing 34). Liazos would agree with Quinney about the role of class conflict
in deviance designation. He contends, however, that the role of power in
designating who and what are deviant has not been adequately ex-
plored, and writers on deviance have not related the phenomena they
are studying to broader social issues. For the most part, then, the label-
ing perspective (see Chapter VI) has been oriented toward showing how
the deviant is really no different from the rest of us. Liazos asserts that
by focusing on the "dramatic" nature of the conventionally understood
forms of deviance (prostitution, homosexuality, delinquency), and sim-
DIv rnnrpnhT::Ili71nrr ,.,"'....I--:l;n J.. ... J.. ... T.~~ ..1 ___ : • • • • ,.
____ .T •
 452 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
I
unormals." Furthermore, by concentrating on "those who have been
successfully labeled as 'deviants'," especially their identities and sub-
cultural characteristics, this approach neglects an in-depth examination
of other forms of deviance in American society. This is particularly evi-
dent with regard to what Liazos calls the "covert institutional violence"
carried on by the politically powerful in the United States, which leads
~o suc~ sod.al ills as povert-y. war, racism, and sexism. The role of power
m desIgnations of deviance has been examined only in terms of mid-
dle-level officials such as the police, who do not have the power to make
basic policy decisions. Liazos calls for a move away from the "exciting
deviant" to an analysis of the deviance-producing activities of the po-
litically powerful.
Liazos's appeal for more thorough exploration of the political econ-
omy of deviance is echoed in Steven Spitzer's "Toward a Marxian The-
ory of Deviance" (Reading 35). Spitzer shows how capitalist societies, by
the nature of their economic system of production, generate "problem
populations," especially the poor and the unemployed, that must some-
how be controlled. He distinguishes between two broad types of de-
VIant groups: "social junk," such as children, the dependent elderly, or
the mentally ill, who represent a costly yet relatively harmless burden to
society, and "social dynamite," such as alienated, unemployed youths,
who can be dangerous and threatening. Social junk is usually controlled
through the agencies of the tl1erapeutic and welfare state, while social
dynamite is normally processed through the legal system. He argues
th~~ modern welfare-state capitalism is presently faced with a growing
cnsls-the overproduction of deviant populations-and suggests sev-
eral strategies, such as the decarceration movement, that may be used to
alleviate it.
. T.he Analysis and Critique section for this chapter is "The New
Cnmmology: Continuity in Criminological Theory" (Reading 36), by
Robert E. M€ler. He exammes the assumptions of the various theoretical
~pproaches to deviance and how they have shifted in emphasis over
time and relates each to the ideas that have come to characterize the
new criminology:
1. Society is dominated by a ruling elite.
2. The interests of the ruling dass are formulated into criminal
law.
3. The police power of the state protects the vested interests of
elites.
4. Criminal sanctions are disproportionately applied against
lower-class persons.
5. Crime is fundamentallv the result of class conflict bp.twPf'n
r
Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 453
According to Meier, this approach is not dramatically different from
criminology's more established theoretical explanations of crime and
criminal behavior, particularly those emanating from the social pathol-
ogy perspective, the Chicago school, functionalism, and labeling theory.
For Meier, the similarities of the new criminology and the more estab-
lished theories are much greater than their differences. He argues that
the main contribution of the new criminology may in fact amount to
nothing more than rephrasing traditional ideas about crime and criminal
behavior in political terms_
William j. Chambliss is the author of the Contemporary Applica-
tions selection for this chapter, a discussion of "State-Organized Crime"
(Reading 37). This type of crime occurs when officials commit viola-
tions of the criminal law in pursuit of their jobs as representatives of
the state. Thus, the state becomes complicit in violation of the law. His-
torical examples discussed by Chambliss include piracy, smuggling, as-
sassinations, criminal conspiracies, spying on citizens, illegal campaign
contributions, and supporting terrorist activities. According to Chamb-
liss, governments will enforce the laws against these activities when it
suits their interests and, when it suits pursuit of the goals demanded of
them, the same governments will violate their own laws against these
activities. When we begin to understand that the officials of tl1e state
will, under certain conditions, violate the very laws they are supposed-
ly sworn to uphold, we can appreciate Chambliss's conclusion that "the
study of state-organized crime serves as a reminder that crime is a po-
litical phenomenon and must be analyzed accordingly."
NOTE
1. lan Taylor, Paul Walton and Jock Young, Tile New Criminology: For a Social
Theory of Deviance (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), p. 270.
 454 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
32 Symbolic Crusade
]OSEPH R. GUSFIELD
For many observers of American life the Temperance movement is evi-
dence for an excessive moral perfectionism and an overly legalistic bent
to American culture. It seems the action of devoted sectarians who aTe
unable to compromise with human impulse. The legal measures taken to
enforce abstinence display the reputed American faith in the power of
Law to correct all evils. 1bis moralism and utopianisrn bring smiles to
the cynical and fear to the sinners. Such a movement seems at once
naive, intolerant, saintly, and silly.
Although controversies of morality, religion, and culture have been
recognized as endemic elements of American politics, they have gener-
ally been viewed as minor themes in the interplay of economic and class
conflicts. Only in recent years have American historians and social sci-
entists de-emphasized economic issues as the major points of dissen-
sion in American society. 1 We share this newer point of view, especially
in its insistence on the significant role of cultural conflicts in American
politics. Our social system has not experienced the sharp class organi-
zation and class conflict which have been so salient in European history.
Under continuous condItions of relative affluence and without a feudal
resistance to nineteenth-century commercialism and industry, Ameri-
can society has possessed a comparatively high degree of consensus on
economic matters. In its bland attitude toward class issues, political con-
troversy in the United States has given only a limited role to strong eco-
nomic antagonisms. Controversies of personality, cultural difference,
and the nuances of style and morality have occupied part of the political
stage. Consensus about fundamentals of governmental form, free en-
terprise-economy, and church power has left a political vacuum which
moral issues have partially filled. Differences between ethnic groups,
cultures, and religious organizations have been able to assume a greater
importance than has been true of societies marked by deeper economic
divisions. " .. ,agreement on fundamentals will permit almost every kind
of social conflict, tension and difference to find political expression,"2
It is within an analytical context of concern with noneconomic issues
that we have studied the Temperance movement. This is a study of
moral reform as a political and social issue. We have chosen the Tem-
perance movement because of its persistence and power in the history
of the United States. Typical of moral reform efforts, Temperance has
usually been the attempt of the moral people, in this case the abstainers,
Reprinted from Symbolic Crl/sade by Joseph R. Gusfield (Urbana-Champaign: University
of IlIinois Press, 1963). Second edition convrip-ht lQRr:; h\1 T"""nh [;I "",,!';n!,..I
32. Joseph R. Gusfield 455
to correct the behavior of the immoral people, in this case the drinkers,
The issue has appeared as a moral one, divorced from any direct eco-
nomic interests in abstinence or indulgence. This quality of "disinter-
ested reform" is the analytical focus of our study,
This book is an interpretation rather than a history because our in-
terest is largely with the analysis of what is already known of the move-
ment rather than with the presentation of new data. Some new field
data will be presented and some new primary historical material has
been gathered, A large nwnber of already published materials has been
utilized. Our interest is not a definitive history of the movement. We
have written within the methodological perspective of the sociologist
lnterested in the general process of moral reform, Our concern is with
the structural and cultural roots of the movement and with the conse-
quences of Temperance activities and goals for its adherents, its "vic-
tims/' and the relations between these two.
The sociologist picks up where the historian closes, Put in another
way, he delves into the assumptions with which the historian begins.
The amount written about Temperance is monumentally staggering to
someone who tries to read it all. Claims, counterclaims, factual histo-
ries, and proceedings of organizations overwhelm us in their immensi-
ty. Despite the plethora of documents and analyses, we are left with
either partisan writings, histories which preach, or analyses which fail to
go beyond general remarks about moral perfectionism, rural-urban con-
flict, or the Protestant envy of the sinner,3 It is here, in the analysis of the
process, that the sociologist focuses his interest. He studies just that
which is 50 often ad hoc to the interpretation of the historian.
In this book we will describe the relation between Temperance atti-
tudes, the organized Temperance movement, and the conflicts between
divergent subculhues in American society. Issues of moral reform are an-
alyzed as one way through which a cultural group acts to preserve, de-
fend, or enhance the dominance and prestige of its own style of living
within the total society. In the set of religious, ethnic, and cultural com-
munities that have made up American society, drinking (and abstinence)
has been one of the significant consumption habits distinguishing one
subculture from another. It has been one of the major characteristics
through which Americans have defined their own cultural commit-
ments. The "drunken bum," lithe sophisticated gourmet," or the "blue-
nosed teetotaler" are all terms by which we express our approval or
disapproval of cultures by reference to the moral position they accord
drinking. Horace Greeley recognized this cultural base to politicalloy-
alties and animosities in the 1844 elections in New York state: "Upon
those Working Men who stick to their business, hope to improve their
1 1 •• 1. 1 ~.....,
456 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
to the grogsJlOp [italics added] the appeals of Loco-Focosim fell compar-
atively harmless; while the opposite class were rallied with unprece-
dented unanimity against us.'"
Precisely because drinking and nondrinking have been ways to
identify the members of a subculture, drinking and abstinence became
symbols of social stratus, identifying social levels of the society whose
styles of life separated them culturally. They indicated to what culture
the actor was committed and hence what social groups he took as his
models of imitation and avoidance and his points of positive and nega-
tive reference for judging his behavior. The rural, native American
Protestant of the nineteenth century respected Temperance ideals. He
adhered to a culture in which self-control, industriousness, and impulse
renunciation were both praised and made necessary. Any lapse was a se-
rious threat to his system of respect. Sobriety was virtuous and, in a
community dominated by middle-class Protestants, necessary to social
acceptance and to self-esteem. In the twentieth century this is less often
true. As Americans are less work-minded, more urban, and less theo-
logical, the same behavior which once brought rewards and self-assur-
ance to the abstainer today more often brings contempt and rejection.
The demands for self-control and individual industry count for less in an
atmosphere of teamwork where tolerance, good interpersonal relations,
and the ability to relax oneself and others are greatly prized. Abstinence
has lost much of its utility to confer prestige and esteem.
Our attention to the significance of drink and abstinence as sym-
bols of membership in status groups does not imply that religiOUS and
moral beliefs have not been important in the Temperance movement.
We are not reducing moral reform to something else. Instead, we are
adding something. Religious motives and moral fervor do not happen in
vaclIq, apart from a specific setting. We have examined the social condi-
tions which made the facts of other people's drinking especially galling
to the abstainer and the need for reformist action acutely pressing to
him. These conditions are found in the development of threats to the
socially dominant position of the Temperance adherent by those whose
style of life differs from his. As his own claim to social respect and honor
are diminished, the sober, abstaining citizen seeks for public acts
through which he may reaffirm the dominance and prestige of his style
of life. Converting the sinner to virtue is one way; law is another. Even
if the law is not enforced or enforceable, the symbolic import of its pas-
sage is important to the refonner. It settles the controversies between
those who represent clashing cultures. The public support of one con-
ception of morality at the expense of another enhances the prestige and
self-esteem of the victors and degrades the culture of the losers.
32. Joseph R. Gusfield 457
In its earliest development, Temperances was one way in which a
declining social elite tried to retain some of its social power and leader-
ship. The New England Federalist "aristocracy" was alarmed by the po-
litical defeats of the early nineteenth century and by the decreased
deference shown their clergy. The rural fanner, the evangelical Protes-
tant, and the uneducated middle class appeared as a rising social group
who rejected the social status, as well as political power, of the Federal-
ist leadership. In the first quarter of the nineteenth century, the moral su-
premacy of the educated was under attack by the frontiersman, the
artisan, and the independent farmer. The Federalist saw his own de-
clining status in the increased power of the drinker, the ignorant, the
secularist, and the religious revivalist. During the 1820's the men who
founded the Temperance movement sought to make Americans into a
clean, sober, godly, and decorous people whose aspirations and style of
living would reflect the moral leadership of New England Federalism. If
they could not control the politics of the country, they reasoned that
they might at least control its morals.
Spurred by religious revivalism, Temperance became more ultraist
than its founders had intended. The settling of frontiers and the influx of
non-Protestant cultures increased the symbolic importance of morality
and religious behavior in distinguishing between the reputable and the
disreputable. During the 1830's and 1840's, it became a large and influ-
ential movement, composed of several major organizations. Religious
dedication and a sober life were becoming touchstones of middle-class
respectability. Large numbers of men were attracted to Temperance or-
ganizations as a means of self-help. In the interests of social and eco-
nomic mobility, they sought to preserve their abstinence or reform their
own drinking habits. Abstinence was becoming a symbol of middle-
class membership and a necessity for ambitious and aspiring young
men. It was one of the ways society could distinguish the industrious
from the ne'er-do-well; the steady worker from the unreliable drifter;
the good credit risk from the bad gamble; the native American from the
immigrant. In this process the movement lost its association with New
England upper classes and became democratized.
The political role of Temperance emerged in the 1840's in its use as
a symbol of native and immigrant, Protestant and Catholic tensions.
The "disinterested reformer' of the 1840's was likely to see the curtail-
ment of alcohol sales as a way of solving the problems presented by an
immigrant, urban poor whose culture clashed with American Protes-
tantism. He sensed the rising power of these strange, alien peoples and
used Temperance legislation as one means of impressing upon the im-
migrant the central power and dominance of native American Protestant
458 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
morality. Along with Abolition and Nativisffi, Temperance formed one
of a trio of major movements during the 1840's and 1850's.
Throughout its history, Temperance has revealed two diverse types
of disinterested reform. By the last quarter of of the nineteenth century,
these had become clear and somewhat distinct elements within the
movement. One was an assimilative reform. Here the reformer was sym-
pathetic to the plight of the urban poor and critical of the conditions
produced by industry and the factory system. This urban, progressivist
impulse in Temperance reflected the fears of an older, established so-
cial group at the sight of rising industrialism. While commercial and
professional men saw America changing from a country of small towns
to one of cities, they were still socially dominant. The norm of absti-
nence had become the public morality after the Civil War. In the doc-
trines of abstinence they could still offer the poor and the immigrants a
way of living which had the sanction of respect and success attached
to it. Through reform of the drinker, the middle-class professional and
businessman coped with urban problems in a way which affirmed his
sense of cultural dominance. He could feel his own social position af-
firmed by a Temperance argument that invited the drinker (whom he
largely identified with the poor, the alien, and the downtrodden) to fol-
low the reformer's habits and lift himself to middle-class respect and
income. He was even able to denounce the rich for their sumptuary so-
phistication. He could do this because he felt secure that abstinence was
still the public morality. It was not yet somebody else's America.
A more hostile attitude to reform is found when the object of the
reformer's efforts is no longer someone he can pity or help. Coercive re-
form emerges when the object of reform is seen as an intractable de-
fender of another culture, someone who rejects the reformer's values
and really doesn't want to change. The champion of assimilative reform
viewed the drinker as part of a social system in which the reformer's cul-
ture was dominant. On this assumption, his invitation to the drinker to
reform made sense. TIle champion of coercive reform cannot make this
assumption. He sees the object of reform as someone who rejects the
social dominance of the reformer and denies the legitimacy of his life
style. Since the dominance of his culture and the social status of his
group are denied, the coercive reformer turns to law and force as ways
to affirm it.
In the last quarter of the nineteenth century, coercive reform was
most evident in the Populist wing of the Temperance movement. As a
phase of the rural distrust of the city, it was allied to an agrarian radi-
calism which fought the power of industrial and urban political and
economic forces. Already convinced that the old, rural middle class was
losing out in the sweeD of historY. the PODulist a.'i Tp.mnf'rO'lnrp <lnhpT"pnt
32. Joseph R. Gusfield 459
could not assume that his way of life was still dominant in America. He
had to fight it out by political action which would coerce the public de-
finition of what is moral and respectable. He had to shore up his waning
self-esteem by inflicting his morality on everybody.
As America became more urban, more secular, and more Catholic,
the sense of declining status intensified the coercive, Populist elements
in the Temperance movement. The political defeat of Populism in both
North and South heightened the decline, so evident in the drama of
Wil!iam Jennings Bryan. With the development of the Anti-Saloon
League in 1896, the Temperance movement began to separate itself from
a complex of economic and social reforms and concentrate on the cul-
tural struggle of the traditional rural Protestant society against the de-
veloping urban and industrial social system. Coercive reform became
the dominating theme of Temperance. It culminated in the drive for na-
tional Prohibition. The Eighteenth Amendment was the high point of
the struggle to assert the public dominance of old middle-class values. It
established the victory of Protestant over Catholic, rural over urban,
tradition over modernity, the middle class over both the lower and the
upper strata.
The significance of Prohibition is in the fact that it happened. The es-
tablishment of Prohibition laws was a battle in the struggle for status be-
tween two divergent styles of life. It marked the public affirmation of the
abstemious, ascetic qualities of American Protestantism. In this sense, it
was an act of ceremonial deference toward old middle-class culture. If
the law was often disobeyed and not enforced, the respectability of its
adherents was honored in the breach. After all, it was their law that
drinker had to avoid.
If Prohibition was the high point of old middle-class defense, Repeal
was the nadir. As the Prohibition period lengthened and resistance so-
lidified, Temperance forces grew more hostile, coercive, and nativist.
The more assimilative, progressivist adherents were alienated from a
movement of such soured Populism. In 1928, anti-Catholic and anti-
urban forces led the movement with a "knockout punch" thrown at Al
Smith in an open ring. By 1933, they had lost their pmver and their
fight. In the Great Depression both the old order of nineteenth-century
economics and the culture of the Temperance ethic were cruelly dis-
credited.
The repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment gave the final push to the
decline of old middle-class values in American culture. Since 1933, the
Temperance movement has seen itself fighting a losing battle against
old enemies and new ones. In contemporary American society, even in
his own local communities, it is the lotal abstainer who is the despised
, ,
 460 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
longer his allies. The respectable, upper middle-class citizen can no
longer be safely counted upon to support abstinence.
vVhat underlies the tragic dilemmas of the Temperance movement
are basic changes in the American social system and culture during th_e
past half-century. As we have changed from a commercial society to an
industrial onc, we have developed a new set of values in which 5e1£-
control, impulse renunciation, discipline, and sobriety are no longer
such hallowed virtues. Thorstcin Veblen, himself the epitome of the
rural, middle-class Protestant, saw the new society of consumers coming
into being. In his satirical fashion, he depicted a society in which leisure
and consumption fixed men's status and took precedence over the work-
mindedness and efficiency concerns of his own Swedish-American farm
communities. More recentl)" David Riesman has brilliantly depicted the
major outlines of this society by pointing to the intensity with which
modem Americans are replacing an interest in work and morality with
an interest in interpersonal relations and styles of consuming leisure.
For the" other-directed" man neither the intolerance nor the seri-
ousness of the abstainer is acceptable. Nor is the intense rebelliousness
and social isolation of the hard drinker acceptable. Analysis of American
alcohol consumption is consistent with this. The contemporary Ameri-
can is less likely than his nineteenth-century ancestor to be either a total
abstainer or a hard drinker. Moderation is his drinking watchword. One
must get along with others and liquor has proven to be a necessary and
effective facilitator to sociability. It relaxes reserve and permits fellow-
ship at the same time that it displays the drinker's tolerance for some
moral lapse in himself and others.
For those who have grown up to believe in the validity of the Tem-
perance ethic, American culture today seems a strange system in which
Truth is condemned as Falsehood and Vice as Virtue. The total abstain-
er finds himself the exponent of a point of view which is rejected in the
centers of urban and national society and among their followers at all
levels of American communities. Self-control and foresight made sense
in a scarcity, production-minded economy. In an easygoing, affluent so-
ciety, the credit mechanism has made the Ant a fool and the Grasshop-
per a hero of the counter-cyclical maintenance of consumer demand. In
a consllmption-centered society, people must learn to have fun and be
good mixers if they are to achieve respect. Not Horatio Alger but Playboy
magazine is the instructor of the college boy who wants to learn the
skills of social ascent. Though they have their noses to the grindstone,
their feet must tap to the sound of the dance.
It is at this point that the study of Temperance assumes significance
for a general understanding of contemporary American politics and so-
cial tensions. Socialsvstems and culturf's clip slowlv. lp;winfY thpir rprlr
32. Joseph R. Gusfield 461
rruards behind to fight delaying action. Even after they have ceased to be
;elevant economic groups, the old middle classes of America are still
searching for some way to restore a sense of lost respect. The dishonor-
ing of their values is a part of the process of cultural and social change_
A heightened stress on the importance of tradition is a major response of
such "doomed classes."
This fundamentalist defense is a primary motif in the currant phase
of Temperance. To different degrees and within different areas, the con-
temporary Temperance adherent is part of the fear guard with which
small-town America and commercial capitalism fight their losing battle
against a nationalized culture and an industrial economy of mass orga-
nizations. Increasingly, he fights alone. Churches, schools, and public
officials are disdainful of "rigid" attitudes and doctrines. Within the
American middle class, in almost all communities, there is a sharp split
between two stylistic components. In one the abstainer can feel at home.
Here the local community of neighbors and townsmen is the point of ref-
erence for behavior. In the other, the more cosmopolitan centers of urban
institutions are mediated to the town through national institutions, com-
munications media, and the two-way geographical mobility which
brings in newcomers and sends out college students for training else-
where. The clash between the drinker and the abstainer reflects these
diverse references. The localistic culture clings to the traditional while
the easier, relaxed, modem ways are the province of the national cul-
ture. It is this national culture which becomes the more prestigeful and
powerful as America becomes more homogeneous.
The anger and bitterness of the doomed class" is by no means an 11
Iiirrational" reaction. There has been a decline in the social status of the
old middle class and in the do:mmance of his values. This sense of anger
at the loss of stratus and bitterness about lowered self-esteem pervades
the entire Temperance movement today. It takes a number of forms. At
one extreme and within certain Temperance elements, it is expressed as
a general, diffuse criticism of modern political and social doctrines and
a defense of tradition in almost all areas of American life. At the other ex-
tTeme, within other parts of the Temperance movement, it is part of the
intense nationalism, economic conservatism, and social stagnation of
the radical right. (11lis latter is especially true of the Prohibition Party.)
TIle study of the American Temperance movement is a phase of the
process by which, as Richard Hofstadter expressed it, a large part of the 11
Populist-Progressive tradition has turned sour, become ill-liberal and
ill-tempered."6 The values and the economic position of the native
American Protestant, old middle class of individual enterprisers have
been losing out in the shuffle of time and social change. The efforts of the
~\..l _:._L.l1_ ~1 _____ ...:I _c ... t..~ __ ... _t..~ t.. ____ 1- .... :1 .......1-_: _ __ It _~ ____ ... :~ __ ~_
462 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
their values to defend and restore their lost prestige have taken a num-
ber of forms. In fluoridation, domestic Communism, school curricula,
and the United Nations, they have found issues which range tradition
against modernity. Temperance has been one of the classic issues on
which divergent cultures have faced each other in America. Such issues
of style have been significant because they have been ways through
which groups have tried to handle the problems which have been im-
portant to them.
NOTES
1. For manifestations of this viewpoint in American history see Lee Benson,
The Concept of Jacksoniall DemocTnCt) (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1961), and Louis Hartz, Tlte Liberal Tradition in America (New York:
Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1955). These trends in historiography are dis-
cussed in John Higham (ed.), The RecollstmctioH of American History (New
York: Harper Torch Books, 1962).
2. Benson, op. cif., p. 275.
3. A major exception to this is John A. Krout, The Origins of Prohibition (New
York: A. A. Knopf, 1925). Even Peter Odegard's otherwise excellent work
on Pressure Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1928) is marred
by his utter lack of sympathy with Temperance goals. The same moralistic
condemnation of moralism limits the utility of the very recent work of An-
drew Sinclair, Prohibition (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1962).
4. Quoted in Benson, op. cit., p. 199.
5. The term "Temperance" is an inadequate name for a movement which
preaches total abstinence rather than "temperate" use of alcohol. The
word was affixed to the movement in its early years (1820's) when its doc-
trine was not yet as extreme as it later came to be.
6. Richard Hofstadter, The Age of Reform (New York: A. A. Knop£, 1955), pp.
19-20.
33 The Social Reality of Crime
RICHARD QUINNEY
The theory contains six propositions and a number of statements with-
in the propositions. With the first proposition I define crime. The next
four are the explanary units. In the final proposition the other five are
collected to form a composite describing the social reality of crime. The
Reprinted from Richard Quiriney, The Social Reality a/Crime (Boston: Little, Brown and
rnmnrlnV , q7fn rnmr ...;O'ht {Q lQ7n h" R;,.h" ...t1 nu;,.,,.,,,,,,
33. Richard Quinney 463
propositions and their integration into a theory of crime reflect the as-
sumptions about explanation and about man and society outlined
above. 1
Proposition 1 (Definition of Crime): Crime is a definition of human
conduct that is created by authorized agents in a politically organized
society.
This is the essential starting point in the theory-a definition of
crime-which itself is based on the concept of definition. Crime is a de-
finition of behavior that is conferred on some person by others. Agents of
the law (legislators, police, prosecutors, and judges), representing seg-
ments of a politically organized society, are responsible for formulating
and administering criminal law. Persons and behaviors, therefore, be-
come criminal because of the formulation and applicatio11 of criminal de-
finitions. Thus, crime is created.
By viewing crime as a definition, we are able to avoid the commonly
used "clinical perspective," which leads one to concentrate on the qual-
ity of the act and to assume that criminal behavior is an individual
pathology.2 Crime is not inherent in behavior, but is a judgment made by
some about the actions and characteristics of others.3 This proposition al-
lows us to focus on the formulation and administration of the criminal
law as it touches upon the behaviors that become defined as criminal.
Crime is seen as a result of a process which culminates in the defining of
persons and behaviors as criminal. It follows, then, that tile greater the
number of crimillnl defillitions fOl1llulated and applied, the greater the amollnt
of crime.
Proposition 2 (Formulation of Criminal Definitions): Criminal defini-
tions describe behaviors that conflict mth the interests of the segments
of society that have the power to shape public policy.
Criminal definitions are formulated according to the interests of
those segments (types of social groupings) of society which have the
power to translate their interests into public policy. The interests-based
on desires, values, and norms-which are ultimately incorporated into
the criminal law are those which are treasured by the dominant interest
groups in the society. " In other words, those who have the ability to
have their interests represented in public policy regulate the formulation
of crimina) definitions.
That criminal definitions are formulated is one of the most obvious
manifestations of conflict in society. By formulating criminal law (in-
_1. • .lc ___ I. • .
 464 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
sions), some segments of society protect and perpetuate their mvn in-
terests. Criminal definitions exist, therefore, because some segments of
society are in conflict with others. s By formulating criminal definitions
these segments are able to control the behavior of persons in other seg-
ments. It follows that t1w greater the conflict in interests betwem the seg-
I1tel1tS of a society, the greater tile probability tlmf tile power segl1lents will
fonlllllate cril1lillul definitions.
The interests of the power segments of society are reflected not only
in the content of criminal definitions and the kinds of penal sanctions at-
tached to them, but also in the legal policies stipulating how those who
come to be defined as "criminal" are ,to be handled. Hence, procedural
rules are created for enforcing and administering the criminal law. Poli-
cies are also established on programs for treating and punishing the
criminally defined and for controlling and preventing crime. In the ini-
tial criminal definitions or the subsequent procedures, and in correc-
tional and penal programs or policies of crime control and prevention,
the segments of society that have power and interests to protect are in-
strumental in regulating the behavior of those who have conflicting in-
terests and less power. 6 Finally, law changes with modifications in the
interest structure. When the interests that underlie a criminal law are
no longer relevant to groups in power, the law will be reinterpreted or
altered to incorporate the dominant interests. Hence, the probability that
cl1'minal dtjinitions will be jonfllllated is increased by such factors as (1) chang-
ing social conditio1ls, (2) emerging interests, (3) illcreasil1g de7llGl1ds that po-
litical, economic, alld religious interests be protected, GIld (4) changiHg
conceptions oftlle public interest. The social history of law reflects changes
in the interest structure of society.
Proposition 3 (Application of Criminal Definitions): Criminal defini-
tions are applied by the segments of society that have the power to
shape the enforcement and administration of criminal law.
The powerful interests intervene in all stages in which criminal de-
finitions are created. Since interests cannot be effectively protected by
merely formulating criminal law, enforcement and administration of
the law are required. The interests of the powerful, therefore, operate
in applying criminal definitions, Consequently, crime is "political be-
havior and the criminal becomes in fact a member of a 'minority group'
without sufficient public support to dominate the control of the police
power of the state."7 Those whose interests conflict with the interests
represented in the law must either change their behavior or possibly
find it defined as "criminal,"
33. Richard Quinney 465
Tile probabilihJ tllat criminal definitions will be applied vm1es according to
the extmt to which tIle belwviors o/the powerless conflict with ale interests of
tile power segments. Law enforcement efforts and judicial activity are like-
ly to be increased when the interests of the powerful are threatened by
the opposition's behavior. Fluctuations and variations in the applica-
tion of criminal definitions reflect shifts in the relations of the various
segments in the power structure of society.
Obviously, the criminal law is not applied directly by the powerful
segments. They delegate enforcement and administration of the law to
authorized legal agents, who, nevertheless, represent their interests. In
fact, the security in office of legal agents depends on their ability to rep-
resent the society's dominant interests.
Because the interest groups responsible for creating criminal defi-
nitions are phYSically separated from the groups to which the authori-
ty to enforce and administer law is delegated, local conditions affect
the manner in which criminal definitions are applied. s In particular,
communities vary i.n the law enforcement and administration of jus-
tice they expect. Application is also affected by the visibility of acts in a
community and by its norms about reporting possible offenses. Espe-
cially important are the occupational organization and ideology of the
legal agents. 9 Thus, the probability that criminal dejitlitiolls will be applied
is influenced by sllch cOl1111ltlllity and orgaJlizatiol1al factors as (1) c0ll1111tmi-
ty expectatio1ls of law enforcement and administratioll, (2) the visibility and
]JHblic J'eporting of offenses, and (3) the occupational organizatioll, ideologl),
and actions of the legal agents to whom the al1tlJOrio) to enforce and adminis-
ter crimil1allaw is delegated. Such factors determine how the dominant in-
terests of society are implemented in the application of criminal
definitions.
The probability ti1at criminal definitions will be applied in specific sit-
uations depends on the actions of the legal agents. In the final analysis, a
criminal definition is applied according to an evaluation by someone
charged with the authority to enforce and administer the law. [n the
course of "criminalization," a criminal label may be affixed to a person
because of real or fancied attributes: "Indeed, a person is evaluated, ei-
ther favorably or unfavorably, not because he does something, or even
because he is something, but because others react to their perceptions of
him as offensive or inoffensive."lU Evaluation by the definers is affected
by the way in which the suspect handles U1e situation, but ultimately
their evaluations and subsequent decisions determine the criminality
of human acts. Hence, tlte more legal agents evailwte belwviors and persons
as worthy of criminal dejinitioll, tIle greater tile probability that ctimina! defi-
l1itiol1s will be applied.
466 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Proposition 4 (Development of Behavior Patterns in Relation to Crimi-
nal Definitions): Behavior patterns are structured in segmentally orga-
nized society in relation to criminal definitions, and within this context
persons engage in actions that have relative probabilities of being de-
fined as criminal.
Although behavior varies, all behaviors are similar in that they rep-
resent the behnvior patterns of segments of society. Therefore, all per-
sons-whether they create criminal definitions or are the objects of
criminal definitions-act according to normative systems learned in rela-
tive social and cultural settings.l1 Since it is not the equality of the be-
havior but the action taken against the behavior that makes it criminat
that which is defined as criminal in any society is relative to the behav-
iar patterns of the segments of society that fonnulate and apply criminal
definitions. Consequently, persons in the segments of socieh) whose behnvior
pattems are not represented in formulating and applying criminal definitions
are more likely to act in ways tlIat will be defined as criminal titan those in the
Se~71llellts tlwt fonllulate and apply criminal definitions.
Once behavior patterns are established with some regularity within
the respective segments of society, individuals are provided with a
framework for developing personal actioll patterns. These patterns con-
tinually develop for each person as he moves from one experience to
another. It is the development of these patterns that gives rus behavior its
own substance in relation to criminal definitions.
Man constructs rus own patterns of action in participating with oth-
ers. It follows, then, that the probabilih} that a person will develop action
patterns that have a high potential of being defined as criminal depends on the
relative sllbstance of (1) structured opportunities, (2) Zeaming experiences, (3)
interpersonal associations and identifications, and (4) self-conceptioJ1s.
Throughout his experiences, each person creates a conception of himself
as a social being. Thus prepared, he behaves according to the anticipat-
ed consequences of rus actions.12
During experiences shared by the criminal definers and the crimi-
nally defined, personal action patterns develop among the criminally
defined because they are 50 defined. After such persons have had con-
tinued experience in being criminally defined, they learn to manipulate
the application of criminal definitions. 13
Furthermore, those who have been defined as criminal begin to
conceive of themselves as criminal; as they adjust to the definitions
imposed upon them, they learn to play the role of the criminal. l .! Be-
cause of others'· reactions, therefore, persons may develop personal ac-
tion patterns that increase the likelihood of their being defined as
33. Richard Quinney 467
criminal in the future. That is, illcreased experience with criminal defini-
tiol1s increases the probability of developing actiolls that JJJay be subseqllent-
ly defined as criminal.
Thus, both the criminal definers and the criminally defined are in-
volved in reciprocal action patterns. The patterns of both the definers
and the defined are shaped by their common, continued, and related
experiences. The fate of each is bound to that of the other.
Proposition 5 (Construction of Criminal Conceptions): Conceptions of
crime are constructed and diffused in the segments of society by various
means of communication.
The "real world" is a social construction: man with the help of oth-
ers creates the world in wruch he lives. Social reality is thus the world a
group of people create and believe in as their own. This reality is con-
structed according to the kind of "knowledge" they develop, the ideas
they are exposed to, the manner in which they select information to fit
the world they are shaping, and the manner in wruch they interpret
these conceptions. 1S Man behaves in reference to the social meanings he
attaches to his experiences.
Among the constructions that develop in a society are those which
determine what man regards as crime. Wherever we find the concept of
crime, there we will find conceptions about the relevance of crime, the
offender's characteristics, and the relation of crime to the social order.l 6
These conceptions are constructed by communication. In fact, the con-
struction of criminal conceptions depends all the portrayal of crime il1 all per-
sonal alld mass c01H1IHmications. By such means, criminal conceptions
are constructed and diffused in the segments of a society. The most
critical conceptions are those held by the power segments of society.
These are the conceptions that are certain of becoming incorporated
into the social reality of crime. In general, then, tile JJJore the power seg-
ments are concerned about crime, the greater the probability tllat criminal de-
finitions will be created and that belzaviol' pattcms will develop in oppositioJl
to criminal definitions. The formulation and application of criminal de-
finitions and the development of behavior patterns reJated to criminal
definitions are thus joined in full circle by the construction of criminal
conceptions.
Proposition 6 (The Social Reality of Crime): TIle social reality of crime is
constructed by the formulation and application of criminal definitions,
the development of behavior patterns related to criminal definitions,
and the construction of criminal conceptions.
468 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 33. Richard Quinney 469

pp. 119-127; Quinney, "Crime in Political Perspective," Americal1 Be/mv·

FIGURE 33.1 MODEL OF THE SOCIAL REAU1l' OF CRIME ioml Scientist, 8 (December, 1964), pp. 19-22; Quinney, "Is Criminal Be-
havior Deviant Behavior?" Britisll Journal of Criminologtj, 5 (April, 1965),
pp. 132-142.
2. See Jane R Mercer, "Social System Perspective and Clinical Perspective:
Frames of Reference for Understanding Career Patterns of Persons La-
Formulation of
criminal definitions
.. .. Application of
criminal definitions
belled as Mentally Retarded," Social Problems, 13 (Summer, 1966), pp .
18-34.
3. This perspective in the study of social deviance has been developed in
Becker, Outsiders; Kai T. Erikson, "Notes on the Sociology of Deviance,"
Social Problems, 9 (Spring, 1962), pp. 307-314; John 1. Kitsuse, "Societal
Reactions to Deviant Behavior: Problems of Theory and Method," Social

I X 1
Development of
Problems, 9 (Wmter, 1962), pp. 247-256. Also see Ronald L. Akers, "Prob-
lems in the Sociology of Deviance: Social Definitions and Behavior," 50-
cilll Forces, 46 (June, 1968), pp. 455-465; David J. Bordua, "Recent Trends:
Deviant Behavior and Social Control," Amwls of tile American Academy of
Political and Socilll Science, 369 (January, 1967), pp. 149-163; Jack P. Gibbes,
"Conceptions of Deviant Behavior: The Old and the New," Pacific Socio-
logical Review, 9 (Spring, 1966), pp. 9-14; Clarence R Jeffery, "The Struc-
Construction of
criminal conceptions
.. . behavior patterns in
relation to criminal
ture of American Criminological Thinking," Journal of Crimina I Law,
CrimiJlology and Police Sciellce, 46 (January-February, 1956), pp. 658-672;
definitions Austin T.Turk, "Prospects for Theories of Criminal Behavior," Joumal of
Crimillal Law, Crimillology and Police Sciellce, 55 (December, 1964), pp.
454-461. .
4. See Richard C. Fuller, "Morals and the Criminal Law," JOIlntal of Criminal
Law, Crimif!ologtJ mid Police ScieHce, 32 (March-April, 1942), pp. 624-630;
Thorsten Sellin, Culture Conflict alld Crime (New York: Social Science Re-
search Council, 1938), pp. 21-25; Clarence R. Jeffery, "Crime, Law and
These five propositions can be collected into a composite. The theo- Social Structure/' Journal of Criminal Law, Crimillology and Police Science,
ry, accordingly, describes and explains phenomena that increase the 47 (November-December, 1956), pp. 423-435; John J. Honigmann, "Value
Conflict and Legislation," Social Problems, 7 (Summer, 1959), pp. 34-40;
probability of crime in society, resulting in the social reality of crime.
George Rusche and OHo Kirchheimer, PUllislullellt IlIld Social Structure
Since the first proposition is a definition and the sixth is a compos- (New York: Columbia University Press, 1939); Roscoe Pound, All 1ntra-
ite, the body of the theory consists of the four middle propositions. dllctioJl to tIle Philosophy of Law (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1922).
These form a model, as diagrammed in Figure 33.1, which relates the 5. I am obviously indebted la the conflict formulation of George B. VoId,
propositions into a theoretical system. Each proposition is related to the Theoretical Crimillology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1958), espe-
others forming a theoretical system of developmental propositions in- cially pp. 203-242. A recent conflict approach to crime is found in Austin
teracting with one another. The phenomena denoted in the propositions T. Turk, "Conflict and Criminality," Americll1l Sociological Review, 31 (June,
and their relationships culminate in what is regarded as the amount and 1966), pp. 338-352.
character of crime in a society at any given tinle, that is, in the social re- 6. Considerable support for this proposition is found in the following stud-
ality of crime. ies: William J. Chambliss, "A SOCiological Analysis of the Law of Va~
grancy," Social Problems, 12 (Sununer 1964), pp. 66-77; Kai T. Erikson,
Wayward Puritalls (New York: John Wiley, 1966); Jerome HalL Theft, Law
NOTES and Society, 2nd ed. (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrilt 1952); Clarence R. Jef-
fery, "The Development of Crime in Early England/' jOll1"11al of Criminal
1. For earlier background material, see Richard Quinney, ''A Conception of Law, Criminology and Police Science, 47 (March-April, 1957), pp. 647-666;
,.... ..... ' •• """ .. ' jj,_, _ .. .J .1._ J _ ••• ID1 ___ ' __ ~ __ • f_..:1: ___ 11..-.;
."" ____ ..J,, .. ' .•. _r • . "..
1 ",... , , ....... ,1
 470 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
versity Press, 1965); Rusche and Kirchheimer, Punishment and Social
Stnlcture; Andrew Sinclair, Era of Excess: A Social HistonJ of the Prohibition
Movement (New York: Harper &Row, 1964); Edwin H. Sutherland, "The
Sexual Psychopath Law," Jotlmal of Criminal Law, Crimil1%g1j and Police
Sciellce, 40 Oanuary-February, 1950), pp. 543-554.
7. VoId, Theoretical Crimillology, p. 202. Also see Irving Louis Horowitz and
Martin Liebowitz, "Social Deviance and Political Marginality: Toward a
Redefinition of the Relation Between SOCiology and Politics," Social Prob-
lems, 15 (Wmter, 1968), pp. 280-296.
8. See Michael Banton, The Policemall mul tile COIllIJ/llllity (London: Tavis-
tack, 1964); Egon Bittner, "The Police on Skid-Row: A Study of Peace
Keeping," American Sociological Review, 32 (October, 1967), pp. 669-715;
John P. Clark, "Isolation of the Police: A Comparison of the British and
American Situations," Joul1lal of Criminal Law, Crimillologt) alld Police Sci-
ence, ~6 (September, 1965), pp. 307-319; Nathan Goldman, The D(fferelltinl
SelectlOll of Juvenile Offenders for Court Appearance (New York National
Co~cil on ~rime and .Delinquency, 1963); James Q. Wuson, Varieties of
PolIce BeltavlOr (Cambndge: Harvard University Press,1968).
9. Abraham S. Blumberg, Criminal Justicc (Chicago: Quadrangle Books,
1967); David J. Bordua and Albert J. Reiss, Jr., "Command, Control and
Charisma: Reflections on Police Bureaucracy," American Journal of Sociolo-
gy, 72. Guly, ~966), pp. 68-76; Aaron V. Cicouret The Social Organization of
Jt/vell/le Justice (New York John Wiley, 1968); Arthur Neiderhoffer, Bellilld
the Shield: Tlte Police ill Urban Society (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday,
19~7); J~ome H. Skolnicl<;:, Justice Withollt Trial: Lnw Enforcement ill Democ-
ratic SocIety (New York: John Wiley, 1966); Authur 1. Stinchcombe, "Insti-
tutions of Privacy in the Determination of Police Administrative
Prac.tice," Amcrican Joumal of Sociologtj, 69 (September, 1963), pp. 150-160;
Davld Sudnow; "Normal Crimes: Sociological Features of the Penal Code
in a Public ~:fender Office," Social Problems, 12 (Winter, 1965), pp.
255-2:6; Wilham A Westley, "Violence and tile Police," American JOl/rIwl
of SOCIOlogy, 59 Guly, 1953), pp. 34-41; Arthur Lewis Wood, Criminal
Lawyer (New Haven: COllege & University Press, 1967).
10. Turk, "Conflict and Criminality," p. 340. For research on the evaluation
of suspects by policemen, see Irving Piliavin and Scott Briar, "Police En-
counters with Juveniles," American !ol/mal of Sociology, 70 (September,
1964), pp. 206-214.
11. Assumed within the theory of the social reality of crime is Sutherland's
th~ory of differential as~ociation. See Edwin H. Sutherland, Principles of
O·I/IH.1I01ogy, 4th ed. (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1947). An analysis of
the differential association theory is found in Melvin 1. De Fleur and
Richard Quinney, "AReformulation of Sutherland's Differential Associa-
tion Theory and a Strategy for Empirical Verification," !oHnlal of Rese[Jl"cfJ
in Crime a1ld DeIillqllellCt), 3 Ganuary, 1966), pp. 1-22.
12. On the operant nature of criminally defined behavior, see Robert L.
Burgess and Ronald 1. Akers, "A Differential Association-Reinforcement
....,•••. _ • . r r""' • , ... • " ....
33. Richard Qumney 471
128-147; C. R. Jeffery, "Criminal Behavior and LeamingTheory," Journal
of Crimillal Law, Crimi1lology alld Police Science, 56 (September, 1965), pp.
294-300.
13. A discllssion of the part the person plays in manipulating the deviant
defining situation is found in Judith Lorber, "Deviance as Performance:
The Case of Illness," Social Problems, 14 (Winter, 1967), pp. 302-310.
14. Edwin M. Lemert, Humllll Deviance, Social Problems Illld Social Control (En-
glewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1964), pp. 40-64; Edwin M. Lemert,
Social PatllOlogtj (New York McGraw-Hill, 1951), pp. 3-98. A related and
earlier discussion is in Frank Tannenbaum, Crime and tlJe COl/mulIIih)
(New York Columbia University Press, 1938), pp. 3....iH.
15. See Berger and Luckrnann, The Social ConstructioH of Reality. Relevant re-
search on tile diffusion of information is discussed in Everett M. Rogers,
Diffusion of IlI/lOvations (New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1962).
16. Research on public conceptions of crime is only beginning. See Alexan-
der 1. Clark and Jack P. Gibbs, "Social Control: A Refonnulation," Social
Problems, 12 (Spring, 1965), pp. 398-415; Thomas E. Dow, Jr., "The Role of
Identification in Conditioning Public Attitude Toward the Offender,"
JOlll"Jlal of Crilllilla/ Lnw, Cril1!iJlOlogtj alld Police SciCllce, 58 (March, 1967),
pp. 75-79; William P. Lentz, "Social Stalus and Attitudes Toward Delin-
quency Control," JOJlrnal of Researcll ill Crime alld Delinquency, 3 Guly,
1966), pp. 147-154; Jennie McInlyre, "Public Attitudes Toward Crime and
Law Enforcement," A1lllals of the American Academy of Political alld Social
Sciellce, 374 (November, 1967), pp. 34-46; Anastassios D. Mylonas and
WaIter C. Reckless, "Prisoners' Attitudes Toward Law and Legal Institu-
tions," JOl/mal of Crimillal Law, Crimillology and Police Scicnce, 54 (Decem-
ber, 1963), pp. 479-484; Elizabeth A. Rooney and Don C. Gibbons, "Social
Reactions to 'Crimes Without Victims,''' Social Problems, 13 (Spring, 1966),
pp. 400-410.
 472 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
34 The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts,
and IPrevertsJ:j:
ALEXANDER LIAZOS
C. Wright Mills left a rich legacy to sociology. One of his earliest, and
best, contributions was "The Professional Ideology of Social Patholo-
gists" (1943). In it, Mills argues that the small-town, middle-class back-
ground of writers of social problems textbooks blinded them to basic
problems of social structure and power, and led them to emphasize me-
tioristic, patchwork types of solutions to America's "problems." They
assumed as natural and orderly the structure of small-town America;
anything else was pathology and disorganization. Moreover, these
"problems," "ranging from rape in rural districts to public housing,"
were not explored systematically and theoretically; they were not placed
in some large political, historical, and social context. They were merely
listed and decried. 1
Since :Mills wrote his paper, however, the field of social problems,
social disorganization, and social pathology has undergone consider-
able changes. Beginning in the late 1940's and the 1950's, and culminat-
ing in the 1960's, the field of "deviance" has largely replaced the social
problems orientation. This new field is characterized by a number of
features which distinguish it from the older approach. 2
First, there is some theoretical framework, even though it is often ab-
sent in edited collections (the Rubington and Weinberg (1968) edited
book is an outstanding exception). Second, the small-town morality is
largely gone. Writers claim they will examine the phenomena at hand-
prostitution, juvenile delinquency, mental illness, crime, and others-
objectively, not considering them as necessarily harmful and immoraL
Third, the statements and theories of the field are based on much more
extensive, detailed, and theoretically-oriented research than were those
of the 1920's and 1930's. Fourth, writers attempt to fit their theories to
Reprinted from Alexander Liazos, "The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts,
Sluts, and 'Preverts'," Social Problems, vo!. 20, no. 1 (Summer 1972), pp. 103-120. Copy-
right © 1972 by the Society for the Study of Social Problems. By permission of the au-
thor and publisher.
'The subtitle of this paper came from hvo sources. (a) A Yale undergraduate once
told me that the deviance course was known among Yale students as "nuts and sluts."
(b) A former colleague of mine at Quinnipiac College, John Bancroft, often told me that
the deviance course was "all about those 'preverts'." When I came to write this paper, r
discovered that these descriptions were correct, and concise summaries of my argu-
ment. I thank both of them. I also want to thank Gordon Fellman for a very careful read-
ing of the first draft of the manuscript, and for discussing with me the general and
specific issues I raise here.
34. Alexander Liazos 473
some central theories, concerns, and problems found in the general field
of sociology; they try to transcend mere moralizing.
The "deviant" has been humanized; the moralistic tone is no longer
ever-present (although it still lurks underneath the explicit disavowals);
and theoretical perspectives have been developed. Nevertheless, all is
not well with the field of "deviance." Close examination reveals that
writers of this field still do not try to relate the phenomena of "deviance"
to larger social, historical, political, and economic contexts. The empha-
sis is still on the "deviant" and the "problems" he presents to himself and
others,. not on the society within which he emerges and operates.
I examined 16 textbooks in the field of "deviance/' eight of them
readers, to determine the state of the field. (They are preceded by an as-
terisk in the bibliography.) Theoretically, eight take the labelling inter-
actionist approach; three more tend to lean to that approach; four others
argue for other orientations (anomie, structural-functional, etc.) or,
among the readers, have an "eclectic" approach; and one (McCaghy, et
aI., 1968) is a collection of biographical and other statements by "de-
viants" themselves, and thus may not be said to have a U1eoretical ap-
proach (although, as we shall see, the selection of the types of statements
and "deviants" still implies an orientation and viewpoint). A careful ex-
amination of these textbooks revealed a number of ideological baises.
These biases became apparent as much from what these books leave
unsaid and unexarnined, as from what they do say. The field of the so-
ciology of deviance, as exemplified in these books, contains three im-
portant theoretical and political biases.
1. All writers, especially those of the labelling school, either state
explicitly or imply that one of their main concerns is to IllllllaJlize and
normalize the "deviant," to show that he is essentially no different from
us. But by the very emphasis on the "deviant" and his identity prob-
lems and sub-culture, the opposite effect may have been achieved. The
persisting use of the labels" deviant" to refer to the people we are con-
sidering is an indication of the feeling that people are indeed different.
2. By the overvvhelrning emphasis on the "dramatic" nature of the
usual types of "deviance"-prostitution, homosexuality, juvenile delin-
quency, and others-we have neglected to examine other, more serious
and harmful forms of "deviance." I refer to covert institutiollal violence
(defined and discussed below) which leads to such things as poverty
and exploitation, the war in Vietnam, unjust tax laws, racism and sex-
ism, and so on, which causes psychic and material suffering for many
Americans, black and white, men and women.
3. Despite explicit statements by these authors of the importance of
power in the designation of what is "deviant," in their substantive analy-
474 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 34. Alexander Liazos 475

ses they show a profound unconcern with power and its implications. separate field of sociology for "deviants" if there were not something
The really powerful, the upper classes and the power elite, those Gould- different about them? May it be that even we do not believe our state-
ner (1968) calls the "top dogs," are left essentially unexamined by these ments and protestations?
sociologists of deviance. The continued use of the word "deviant" (and its variants), despite
its invidious distinctions and connotations, also belies our explicit state-
I ments on the equality of the people under consideration. To be sure,
Always implicit, and frequently explicit, is the aim of the labelling school some of the authors express uneasiness over the term. For example, we
to humanize and normalize the "deviant." Two statements by Becker are told,
and Matza are representative of this sentiment. In our use of this term for the purpose of sociological investigation,
we emphasize that we do not attach any value judgement, explicitly or
implicitly, either to the word "deviance" or to those describing their
In the course of our work and for who knows what private reasons, we behavior or beliefs in this book (McCaghy, et al., 1968:v).
fall into deep sympathy with the people we are studying, so that while
the rest of society views them as unfit in one or another respect for the Lofland (1969:2, 9-10) expresses even stronger reservations about the
deference ordinarily accorded a fellow citizen, we believe that they are use of the term, and sees clearly the sociological, ethical, and political
at least as good as anyone else, more sinned against then sinning,
(Becker,1967:100-101). problems raised by its continued use. Yet, the title of his book is De-
via1lce and Identity.
The growth of the sociological view of deviant phenomena involved, as Szasz (1970: xxv-xxvi) has urged that we abandon use of the term:
major phases, the replacement of a correctional stance by an appreciation Words have lives of their own. However much sociologists insist that
of the deviant subject, the tacit purging of a conception of pathology by the tenn "deviant" does not diminish the worth of the person or group
a new stress on human diversity, and the erosion of a simple distinction 50 categorized, the implication of inferiority adheres to the word. ~­
between deviant and conventional phenomena, resulting from inti- deed, sociologists are not wholly exempt from blame: they deSCrIbe
mate familiarily of the world as it is, which yielded a more sophisti- addicts and homosexuals as deviants, but never Olympic champions or
cated view stressing cOlllplexity (Matza, 1969:10). Nobel Prize winners. In fact, the term is rarely applied to people with
For a number of reasons, however, the opposite effect may have admired characteristics, such as great wealth, superior skills, or fame--
whereas it is often applied to those with despised characteristics, such
been achieved; and "deviants" still seem different. I began to suspect as poverty, lack of marketable skills, or infamy. . .
this reverse effect from the many essays and papers I read while teach- The term "social deviants" ... does not make sufficiently expliclt-
ing the "deviance" course. The clearest example is the repeated use of as the terms "scapegoat" or "victim" do-that majorities usually cate-
the word "tolerate." Students would write that we must not persecute gorize persons or groups as "deviant" in order to set them apart as
homosexuals, prostitutes, mental patients, and others, that we must be inferior beings and to justify their social control, oppression, persecu-
tion, or even complete destruction.
"tolerant" of them. But one tolerates only those one considers less than
equal, morally inferior, and weak; those equal to oneself, one accepts Terms like victimization, persecution, and oppression are more ac-
and respects; one does not merely allow them to exist, one does not "tol- curate descriptions of what is really happening. But even Gouldner
erate" them. (1968), in a masterful critique of the labelling school, while describing so-
The repeated assertion that "deviants" are "at least as good as any- cial conflict, calls civil-rights and anti-war protesters "political deviants."
one else" may raise doubts that this is in fact the case, or that we be- He points out clearly that these protesters are resisting openly, not slyly,
lieve it. A young woman who grew up in the South in the 1940's and conditions they abhor. GouIdner is discussing political struggles; op-
1950's told Quinn (1954:146): 'You know, I think from the fact that I
U pression and resistance to oppression; conflicts over values, morals, in-
was told so often that I must treat colored people with consideration, I terests, and power; and victimization. Naming such protesters
got the feeling that I could mistreat them if I wanted to.' " Thus with "deviants," even if political deviants, is an indication of the deep pene-
"deviants"; if in fact they are as good as we are, we would not need to tration within our minds of certain prejudices and orientations.
remind everyone of this fact; we would take it for granted and proceed Given the use of the term, the definition and examples of "deviant"
from there. But our assertions that "deviants" are not different may raise reveal underlying sentiments and views. Therefore, it is important that
tho na,-", .4 ...... 1,1-<' ~Ht> H,~ .... I- h ... ..-1;" .......1 1\,f ...... n,...H ........ ,h" ~"",,"1..-1 HTa ...... o~ho .,. _ •• ___ ...l_C: __ ...l ___ ": __ ll ....1.. ... __ ....: __ c: ...l..:1 __ ~ ... _:_1l •• n:~_ ... :~;'" ... rI ..... ,M.:hlnu
 476 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
one: "Because younger sOciologists have found deviance such a fertile
and exciting field of their own work, and because students share these
feelings, deviance promises to become an even more important area of
sociological research and theory in the coming years." (Douglas,
1970a:3).
The lists and discussions of "deviant" acts and persons reveal the
writers' biases and sentiments. These are acts which, "like robbery, bur-
glary or rape [arel 01 a simple and dramatic predatory nature ... " (The
President's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of
Justice, in Dinitz, et al., 1969:105). All 16 texts, without exception, con-
centrate on actions and persons of a "dramatic predatory nature," on
"preverts." This is true of both the labelling and other schools. TIle fol-
lowing are examples from the latter:
Ten different types of deviant behavior are considered: juvenile delin-
quency, adult crime, prison sub-cultures, homosexuality, prostitution,
suicide, homicide, alcoholism, drug addiction and mental illness (Rush-
ing, 1969: preface).
Traditionally, in American sociology the study of deviance has focused
on criminals, juvenile delinquents, prostitutes, suicides, the mentally ill,
drug users and drug addicts, homosexuals, and political and religious
radicals (lefton, et al., 1968:v).
Deviant behavior is essentially violation of certain types of group
nonns; a deviant act is behavior which is proscribed in a certain way. [It
must be] in a disapproved direction, and of sufficient degree to exceed
th.€ toleran~e ~mit of the community .... [such as] delinquency and
crune, pr?stitution, homosexual behavior, drug addiction, alcoholism,
mental dlSorders, suicide, marital and family maladjustment, discrim-
ination against minority groups, and, to a lesser degree, role problems
of old age (Clinard, 1968:28).
. Finally, we are told that these are some examples of deviance every
SOCiety must deal vvith: ... mental illness, violence, theft, and sexual mis-
conduct, as well as ... other similarly difficult behavior" (Dinitz, et nl.,
1969:3).
The list stays unchanged with the authors of the labelling school.
... in Pa~t.I, "The Deviant Act," I draw rather heavily on certain studies
of hOffilclde, embezzlement, "naive" check forgery, suicide and a few
other acts ... in discussing the assumption of deviant identity (Part il)
and the.assumption of normal identity (Part IT), there is heavy reference
to certam studIes of paranoia, "mental illness" more generally, and Al-
coholics Anonymous and Synanon (lofland, 1969:34).
HonUc.ide, suicide, alcoholism, mental illness, prostitution, and homo-
sexualIty are among the forms of behavior typically called deviant,
and they are among the kinds of behavior that will be analyzed
rT nR::Inrl 1 Q":;Q·1 \ in .... l" .... "' .... ",.,., ..... nn- '"'""''' ..." ......... ,,~...l,,~.~ •• ,~~~ ~~1:..; __ 1 __ ~
34. Alexander Liazos 477
icills of the far left and the far right, homosexuals, militant blacks, con-
victs and mental hospital patients, mystics, narcotic addicts, LSD and
Marijuana users, illicit drug dealers, delinquent boys, racially mixed
couples, hippies, health-food users, and bohemian artists and village
eccentrics (Simmons, 1969:10).
Sinunons (1969:27,. 29, 31) also informs us that in his study of stereo-
types of "deviants" held by the public, these are the types he gave to
people: homosexuals, beatniks, adulterers, marijuana smokers, politi-
cal radicals, alcoholics, prostitutes, lesbians, ex-mental patients, athe-
ists, ex-convicts, intellectuals, and gamblers. In Lemert (1967) we find
that except for the three introductory (theoretical) chapters, the sub-
stantive chapters cover the following topics: alcohol drinking, four;
check forgers, three; stuttering, two; and mental illness, two. Matza
(1969) offers the following list of "deviants" and their actions that "must
be appreciated if one adheres to a naturalistic perspective": paupers,
robbers, motorcycle gangs, prostitutes, drug addicts, promiscuous ho-
mosexuals, thieving Gypsies, and "free love" Bohemians (1969:16). fi-
nally, Douglas' collection (1970a) covers these forms of "deviance":
abortion, nudism, topless barmaids, prostitutes, homosexuals, violence
(motorcycle and juvenile gangs), shoplifting, and drugs.
The omissions from these lists are staggering. The covert, institu-
tional forms of "deviance" (part Il, below) are nowhere to be found.
Reading these authors, one would not know that the most destructive
use of violence in the last decade has been the war in Vietnam, in which
the US. has heaped unprecedented suffering on the people and their
land; more bombs have been dropped in Vietnam than in the entire
World War H. lvloreover, the robbery of the corporate world-through
tax brealcs, fixed prices, low wages, pollution of the environment, shod-
dy goods, etc.-is passed over in our fascination with "dramatic and
predatory" actions. Therefore, we are told that "while they certainly
are of no greater social importance to us than such subjects as banking
and accounting [or military violence], subjects such as marijuana use
and motorcycle gangs are of far greater interest to most of us. While it
is only a coincidence that our scientific interests correspond with the
emotional interest in deviants, it is a happy coincidence and, I believe,
one that should be encouraged" (Douglas, 1970a:5). And Matza
(1969:17), in commenting on the "appreciative sentiments" of the "nat-
uralistic spirit," elaborates on the same theme: "We do not for a mo-
ment wish that we could rid ourselves of deviant phenomena. We are
intrigued by them. TIley are an intrinsic, ineradicable, and vital part of
human society."
An effort is made to transcend this limited view and substantive
rrmr.:>rn ,.vil"h nr::lIT1::l!ir ::lnn n1"pn::l~nrv fnrm<; or "ripvi<1nrp." Seeker
 478 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
(1964:3) claims that the new (labelling) deviance no longer studies only
"delinquents and drug addicts, though these classical kinds of deviance
are still kept under observation." It increases its knowledge "of the
processes of deviance by studying physicians, people with physical
handicaps, the mentally deficient, and others whose doings were for-
merly not included in the area." The powerful, "deviants" are still left
untouched, however. This is still true with another aspect of the new
deviance. Becker (1964:4) claims that in the labelling perspective "we
focus attention on the other people involved in the process. We pay at-
tention to the role of the non-deviant as well as that of the deviant." But
we see that it is the ordinary non-deviants and the low-level agents of
social control who receive attention, not the powerful ones (Gouldner,
1968).
In fact, the emphasis is more on the subculture and identihJ of the
"deviants" themselves rather than on their oppressors and persecutors.
To be sure, in varying degrees all authors discuss the agents of social
control, but the fascination and emphasis are on the "deviant" himself.
Studies of prisons and prisoners, for example, focus on prison subcul-
tures and prisoner rehabilitation; there is little or no consideration of
the social, political, economic, and power conditions which consign peo-
ple to prisons. Only now are we beginning to realize that most prisoners
are political prisoners-that their "criminal" actions (whether against in-
dividuals, such as robbery, or conscious political acts against the state)
result largely from current social and political conditions, and are not the
work of "disturbed" and "psychopathic" personalities. 1his realization
came about largely because of the writings of political prisoners them-
selves: Malcolm X (1965), Eldridge Cleaver (1968), and George Jackson
(1970), among others.'
In all these books, notably those of the labelling school, the concern
is with the "deviant's" subculture and identity: his problems, motives,
fellow victims, etc. The collection of memoirs and apologies of "de-
viants" in their own words (McCaghy, et nl., 1968) covers the lives and
identities of "prevert deviants": prostitutes, nudists, abortionists, crim-
inals, drug users, homosexuals, the mentally ill, alcoholics, and sui-
cides. For good measure, some "militant deviants" are tlrrown in: Black
Muslims, the SDS, and a conscientious objector. But one wonders about
other types of "deviants": how do those who perpetuate the covert in-
stitutional violence in our society view themselves? Do they have iden-
tity problems? How do they justify their actions? How did the robber
barons of the late 19th century steal, fix laws, and buy politicians six
days of the week and go to church on Sunday? By what process can
people speak of body counts and kill ratios with cool objectivity? On
rhp."p ::Inn "irnil;!l' n,,,:u;;:Hnne ..'hie 'hn...... 1r {",n.---l ",11 n.1-]."", ..",,4
34. Alexander Liazos 479
swers; indeed, the editors seem unaware that such questions should or
could be raised.
Becker (1964), Rubington and Weinberg (1968), Matza (1969), and
Bell (1971) also focus on the identity and subcuiture of "prevert de-
viants." Matza, in discllssing the assumption of "deviant identity," uses
as examples, and elaborates upon, thieves and marijuana users. In all
these books, there are occasional references to and questions about the
large social and political structure, but these are not explored in any
depth; and the emphasis remains on the behavior, identity, and rehabil-
itation of the "deviant" himself. This bias continues in the latest book
which, following the fashions of the times, has chapters on hippies and
militant protesters (Bell, 1971).
Even the best of these books, Sirnmons' Deviallis (1969), is not free of
the overwhelming concentration of the "deviant" and his identity. It is
the most sympathetic and balanced presentation of the lives of "de-
viants": their joys, sorrows, and problems with the straight world and
fellow victims. Simmons demystifies the processes of becoming "de-
viant" and overcoming "deviance." He shows, as well as anyone does,
that these victims are just like us: and the differences they possess and
the suffering they endure are imposed upon them. Ultimately, however,
Simmons too falls prey to the three biases shown in the work of others:
(a) the "deviants" he considers are only of the "prevert" type; (b) he fo-
cuses mostly on the victim and his identity, not on the persecutors: and
(c) the persecutors he does discuss are of the middle-level variety, the
agents of more powerful others and institutions.
Because of these biases, there is an implicit, but very clear, accep-
tance by these authors of the current definitions of "deviance." It comes
about because they concentrate their attention on those who have been
successfully labelled as "deviant," and not on those who break laws, fix
laws, violate ethical and moral standards, harm individuals and groups,
etc., but who either are able to hide their actions, or, when known, can
deflect criticism, labelling, and punishment. The following are typical
statements which reveal this bias.
" ... no act committed by members of occupational groups [such as
white-collar crimes], however W1cthical, should be considered as crime
unless it is punishable by the state in some way" (Clinard, 1968:269).
Thus, if some people can manipulate laws so that their unethical and
destructive acts are not "crimes," we should cater to their power and
agree that they are not criminals.
Furthermore, the essence of the labelling school encourages this
bias, despite Becker's (1963:14) assertion that .insofar as a scientist U ••
uses 'deviant' to refer to any rule-breaking behavior and takes as his
L_-'-_...l ____ \.. d .. ____ ._L_ 1-_ •• _1- ___ 1_1_ .. H_..1 ..l __ .: __ L __ .• :11'--_
.............;...l ... ~ ...... ~~
___ '--~ _ _ L _ _ ~
 480 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
hampered by the clisparities between the two categories." But as the fol-
lowing statements from Seeker and others show, this is in fact what the
labelling school does do.
Deviance is "created by society ... socinl groups create deviance by mak-
ing the rules whose infraction constitutes deviance, and by applying those
rules to particular people and labelling them as outsiders" (Becker,
1963:8-9). Clearly, accorcling to this view, in cases where no group has la-
belled another, no matter what the other group or individuals have
done, there is nothing for the sociologist to study and clissect.
Rules are not made automatically. Even though a practice may be
harmful in an objective sense to the group in which it occurs, the harm
needs to be discovered and pointed out. People must be made to feel
that something ought to be done about it (Becker, 1963:162).
What is important for the social analyst is not what people are by his
lights or by his standards, but what it is that people construe one an-
other and themselves to be for what reasons and with what conse-
quences (Lofland, 1969:35).
... deviance is in the eyes of the beholder. For deviance to become a so-
cial fact, somebody must perceive an act, person, situation, or event
as a departure from social norms, must categorize the perception, must
report the perception to others, must get them to accept this definition
of the situation, and must obtain a response that conforms to this def-
inition. Unless all these requirements are met, deviance as a social fact
does not come into being (Rubington and Weinberg, 1968:v).
The implication of these statements is that the sociologist accepts
current, successful definitions of what is "deviant" as the only ones
worthy of his attention. To be sure, he may argue that those labelled
"deviant" are not really different from the rest of us, or that there is no
act intrinsically "deviant," etc. By concentrating on cases of successful
labelling, however, he will not penetrate beneath the surface to look
for other forms of "deviance"-undetected stealing, violence, and de-
struction. When people are not powerful enough to make the "deviant"
label stick on others, we overlook these cases. But is it not as much a so-
cial fact, even though few of us pay much attention to it, that the cor-
porate economy kills and maims more, is more violent, than any
violence committed by the poor (the usual subject of studies of vio-
lence)? By what reasoning and necessity is the "violence" of the poor in
the ghettoes more worthy of our attention than the military boot-camps
which numb recruits from the horrors of killing the "enemy" ("Orien-
tal human beings," as we learned during the Calley trial)? But because
these acts are not-labelled "deviant," because they are covert, institu-
tional, and normal, their "deviant" qualities are overlooked and they do
nnf- ],o,..nrno .... " .. f- nf .. he. ......"H: .... "" ,,4= -I-h ... " ... ,,~ ... I"'''''Tr ... t ..1~n:~ ___
34. Alexander Liazos 481
their best liberal intentions, these sociologists seem to perpetuate the
very notions they think they debunk, and others of which they are un-
aware.
II
As a result of the fascination with "nuts, sluts, and preverts", and their
identities and subcultures, little attention has been paid to the unethical,
illegal, and destructive actions of powerful individuals, groups, and in-
stitutions in or society. Because these actions are carried out quietly in
the normal course of events, the sociology of deviance does not consid-
er them as part of its subject matter. This bias is rooted in the very con-
ception and definition of the field. It is obvious when one examines the
treatment, or, just as often, lack of it, of the issues of violence, crime,
and white-collar crime.
Discussions of violence treat only one type: the dramatic and 11
predatory" violence committed by individuals (usually the poor and
minorities) against persons and property. For example, we read, "crimes
involving violence, such as criminal homicide, assault, and forcible rape,
are concentrated in the slums" (CUnard, 1968:123). Wolfgang, an expert
on violence, has developed a whole theory on the "subculture of vio-
lence" found among the lower classes (e.g., in Rushing, 1969:233-40).
And Douglas (1970a:part 4, on violence) includes readings on street
gangs and the Hell's Angels. Thompson (1966), in his book on the Hell's
Angels, devotes many pages to an exploration of the Angels' social back-
ground. In addition, throughout the book, and especially in his con-
cluding chapter, he places the Angels' violence in the perspective of a
violent, raping, and destructive society, which refuses to confront the
reality of the Angels by clistorting, exaggerating, and romanticizing their
actions. But Douglas reprints none of these pages; rather, he offers us the
chapter where, during a July 4 weekend, the Angels are restricted by
the police within a lakeside area, had a drunken weekend, and became
a tourist sideshow and circus.
In short, violence is presented as the exclusive property of the poor
in the slums, the minorities, street gangs, and motorcycle beasts. But if
we take the concept violence seriously, we see that much of our political
and economic system thrives on it. In violence, a person is violated-
there is harm done to his person, his psyche, his body, his dignity, his
ability to govern himself (Garver, in Rose, 1969:6). Seen in this way, a
person can be violated in many ways; physical force is only one of them.
As the readings in Rose (1969) show, a person can be violated by a sys-
tem that denies him a decent job, or consigns him to a slum, or causes
him brain damage by near-starvation during childhood, or manipulates
T"\ ___ !J._ 1..:_ J.L._ ..... ~L. -I.L.~ _~n __ ~...:J:~ ~_..:I ,," ,,_ .........·11 ......... 1..
482 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Moreover, we must see that covert institutional violence is much more
destructive than overt individual violence. We must recognize that peo-
ple's lives are violated by the very normal and everyday workings of in-
stitutions. We do not see such events and situations as violent because
they are not dramatic and predatory; they do not make for fascinating
reading on the lives of preverts; but they kill, maim, and destroy many
more lives than do violent individuals.
Here are some examples. Carmichael and Hamilton (1967:4), in dis-
tinguishing between individual and illstitutional racism, offer examples of
eadl:
When white terrorists bomb a black church and kill five black chil-
dren, that is an act of individual racism, widely deplored by most seg-
ments of the sOciety. But when in that same city-Birmingham,
Alabama-five hundred black babies die each year because of lack of
proper food, shelter, and medical facilities, and thousands more are
destroyed and maimed physically, emotionally and intellectually be-
cause of conditions of poverty and discrimination in the black com-
munity, that is a function of institutional racism.
Surely this is violence; it is caused by the normal, quiet workings of in-
stitutions run by respectable members of the community. Many whites
also suffer from the institutional workings of a profit-oriented society
and eco~omy; poor health, dead-end jobs, slum housing, hunger in rural
areas, and so on, are daily realities in their lives. This is surely much
worse violence than any committed by the Hell's Angels or street gangs.
Only these groups get stigmatized and analyzed by sociologists of de-
viance, however, while those good people who live in luxurious homes
(fixing tax laws for their benefit) off profits derived from an exploitative
economic system-they are the pillars of their community.
Violence is committed daily by the government, very often by lack
of action. The same system that enriches businessmen farmers with bil-
lions of dollars through farm subsidies cannot be bothered to appropri-
ate a few millions to deal with lead poisoning in the slums. Young
children
... get il by eating the sweet-tasting chips of peeling tenement walls,
painted a generation ago with leaded paint.
According to the Department of Health, Education and Welfare,
400,000 children are poisoned each year, about 30,000 in New York City
alone. About 3,200 suffer permanent brain damage, 800 go blind or be-
come so mentally retarded that they require hospitalization for the rest
of their lives, and approximately 200 die.
The tragedy is that lead poisoning is totally man-made and total-
ly preventable. It is caused by slum housing. And there are now blood
tests that can detect the disease, and medicines to cure it. GnJy a lack of
purpose sentences 200 black children to die each year (Newfield,
1971)-'
34. Alexander Liazos 483
Newfield goes on the report that on May 20, 1971, a Senate-House con-
ference eliminated $5 million from an appropriations budge. In fact, 200
children had been sentenced to death and thousands more to maiming
and suffering.
Similar actions of violence are committed daily by the government
and corporations; but in these days of misplaced emphasis, ignorance,
and manipulation we do not see the destruction inherent in these ac-
tions. Instead, we get fascinated, angry, and misled by the violence of the
poor and the powerless. We see the violence committed during political
rebellions and the ghettoes (called "riots" in order to dismiss them), but
all along we ignored the daily violence committed against the ghetto
residents by the inStihltions of the sociely: schools, hospitals, corpora-
tions, the government. Check any of these books on deviance, and see
how much of this type of violence is even mentioned, much less ex-
plored and described.
It may be argued that some of this violence is (implicitly) recog-
nized in discussions of "white-collar" crime. This is not the case, how-
ever. Of the 16 books under consideration, only three pay some
attention to white-collar crime (Cohen, 1966; Clinard, 1968; Dinitz, et
al., 1969); and of these, only the last covers the issue at some length.
Even in these few discussions, however, the focus remains on the in-
dividuals who commit the actions (on their greediness, lack of morali-
ty, etc.), not on the economic and political institutions within which
they operate. The selection in Dinitz, et al. (1969:99-109), from the Pres-
ident's Commission on Law Enforcement and the Administration of
Justice, at least three times (pp. 101, 103, 108) argues that white-collar
crime is "pervasive," causes "financial burdens" ("probably far greater
than those produced by traditional common law theft offenses"), and
is generally harmful. At least in these pages, however, there is no in-
vestigation of the social, political, and economic conditions which
make the pervasiveness, and lenient treatment, of white-collar crime
possible.
The bias against examining the structural conditions behind white-
collar crime is further revealed in Clinard's suggestions on how to deal
with it (in his chapter on "111e Prevention of Deviant Behavior"). TIle
only recommendation in three pages of discussion (704-7) is to teach
everyone more "respect" for the law. 11li5 is a purely moralistic device;
it pays no attention to the structural aspects of the problem, to the fact
that even deeper than white-collar crime is ingrained a whole network
of laws, especially tax laws, administrative policies, and institutions
which systematically favor a small minority. More generally, discussions
on the prevention of "deviance" and crime do not deal with institu-
1 , • • •
ii'
r
484 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Bul there is an obvious explanation for this oversight. TIle people
committing serious white-collar crimes and executing the policies of
violent institutions are respectable and responsible individuals, not "de_
viants"; this is the view of the President's Commission on Law En-
forcement and the Administration of Justice.
Significantly, the Antitrust Division does not feel that lengthy prison
sentences are ordinarily called for [for white-collar crimes]. It "rarely
recommends jail sentences greater than 6 months-recommendations
of 3D-day imprisonment are most frequent" (Dinitz, et al., 1969:105).
Persons who have standing and roots in a community, and are pre-
pared for and engaged in legitimate occupations, can be expected to be
particularly susceptible to tile threat of criminal prosecution. Criminal
proceedings and the imposition of sanctions have a much sharper im-
pact upon those who have not been hardened by previous contact with
the criminal justice system (in Dinitz, et al., 1969:104).
At the same time, we are told elsewhere by the Commission that white-
collar crime is pervasive and widespread; "criminal proceedings and
the imposition of sanctions" do not appear to deter it much.
The executives convicted in the Electrical Equipment case were re-
spectable citizens. "Several were deacons or vestrymen of their church-
es." TIle rest also held prestigious positions: president of the Chamber of
Commerce, bank director, little-league organizer, and so on (Dinitz, et al.,
1969:107). Moreover, "generally ... in cases of white-collar crime, neither
the corporations as entities nor their responsible officers are invested
with deviant characters ... " (Cohen, 1966:30). Once more, there is quiet
acquiescence to this state of affairs. There is no attempt to find out why
those who steal millions and whose actions violate lives are not lIin_
vested with deviant characters." There is no consideration given to the
possibility that, as responsible intellectuals, it is our duty to explore and
expose the structural causes for corporate and other serious crimes,
which make for much more suffering than does anned robbery. We seem
satisfied merely to observe what iS r and leave the causes unexamined.
In conclusion, let us look at another fonn of institutional"deviance."
The partial publication of the Pentagon papers Gune 1971) made public
the conscious lying and manipulation by the government to quiet op-
position to the Vietnam war. But lying pervades both government and
economy. Deceptions and outright lies abound in advertising (see Henry,
1963). During the 1968 campaign, Presidential candidate Nixon blessed
us with an ingenious form of deception. McGinniss (1969:149-50) is
recording a discus~ion that took place before Nixon was to appear on
live TV (to show spontaneity) the day before the election and answer,
unrehearsed, questions phoned in by the viewing audience:
34. Alexander Liazos 485
"1 understand Paul Keyes has been sitting up for two days writing
questions," Roger Ailes said.
"Well, not quite," Jack Rourke said. He seemed a little embar-
rassed.
"What is going to happen?"
"Oh ... "
"It's sort of semiforgery, isn't it?" Ailes said. "Keyes has a bunch of
questions Nixon wants to answer. He's written them in advance to
make sure they're properly worded. When someone calls in with some~
thing similar, they'll use Keyes' question and attribute it to the person
who called. Isn't that it?"
"More or less," Jack Rourke said.
In short, despite the supposedly central position of social stmctflTe in
the sociological enterprise, there is general neglect of it in the field of
"deviance." Larger questions, especially if they deal with political and
economic issues, are either passed over briefly or overlooked complete-
ly. The focus on the actions of "nuts, sluts, and preverts" and the related
slight of the criminal and destructive actions of the powerful are in-
stances of this avoidance.
III
Most of the authors under discussion mention the importance of power
in labelling people "devianl." They state that those who label (the vic-
timizers) are more powerful than those they label (the victims). Writers
of the labelling school make this point explicitly. According to Becker
(1963:17), "who can .. .force others to accept their rules and what are the
causes of their success? This is, of courser a question of political and
economic power." Simmons (1969:131) comments that historically,
"those in power have used their pOSitions largely to perpetuate and en-
hance their own advantages through coercing and manipulating the rest
of the populace." And Lofland (1969:19) makes the same observation
in his opening pages:
It is in the situation of a very powerful party opposing a very weak
one that the powerful party sponsors the idea that the weak party is
breaking the rules of society. The very concepts of "society" and its
"rules" are appropriated by powerful parties.and made synonymous
with their Interests (and, of course, believed ID by the naIVe, e.g., the
undergr,~~uat~ penchant ;,Of the phrases "society says ... ," "society ex-
pects ... , SOCIety does ... ).
But this insight is not developed. In none of the 16 books is there an ex-
tensive discussion of how power operates in the designation of de-
viance. Instead of a study of power, of its concrete uses in modem,
corporate America, we are offered rather fascinating explorations into
the identities and subcultures of "deviants," and misplaced emphasis on
 486 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
the middle-level agents of social controL Only Szasz (1961, 1963, and
notably 1970) has shown consistently the role of power in one area of
"deviance," "mental illness." Through historical and contemporary stud-
ies, he has shovm that those labelled "mentally ill" (crazy, insane, mad,
lunatic) and institutionalized have always been the powerless: women,
the poor, peasants, the aged, and others. Moreover, he has exposed re-
peatedly the means used by powerful individuals and institutions in
employing the "mental illness" label to discredit, persecute, and elimi-
nate opponents. In short, he has shown the political element in the
"mental illness" game.
In addition, except for Szasz, none of the authors seems to realize
that the stigma of prostitution, abortion, and other "deviant" acts unique
to women comes about in large part from the powerlessness of women
and their status in society. Moreover, to my knowledge, no one has both-
ered to ask why there have always been women prostitutes for men to
satisfy their sexual desires, but very few men prostitutes for women to
patronize. The very word prostitute we associate with women only, not
men. Both men and women have been involved in this "immoral" act,
but the stigma has been carried by the women alone.
All 16 books, some more extensively than others, discuss the ideol-
ogy, modes of operation, and views of agents of social control, the people
who designate what is to be "deviant" and those who handle the people
so designated. As Gouldner (1968) has shown, however, these are the
lower and middle level officials, not those who make basic policy and
decisions. This bias becomes obvious when we look at the specific agents
discussed.
For example, Simmons (1969:18) tells us that some of "those in
charge at every level" are the following: "university administrators, pa-
trolmen, schoolmasters, and similar public employees .... " Do universi-
ty administrators and teachers nm the schools alone? Are they teaching
and enforcing their own unique values? Do teachers alone create the
horrible schools in the slums? Are the uniformity, punctuality, and con-
formity teachers inculcate their own psychological hang-ups, or do they
represent the interests of an industrial-teclmological-corporate order?
In another sphere, do the police enforce their own laws?
Becker (1963:14) has shown consistent interest in agents of social
controL However, a close examinalion reveals limitations. He discusses
"moral crusaders" like those who passed the laws against marijuana.
The moral crusaders, "the prototype of the rule creator," finds that lithe
existing rules do not satisfy him because there is some evil which pro-
foundly disturbs him." But the only type of rule creator Becker discuss-
es is the moral crusader, no other. TIle political manipulators who pass
1 ...... " ~~ ...l,,£,,~...l ~I-..~:¥ :~"~_ ... n-'-...... ~...l
34. Alexander Liazos 48
The "unconventional sentimentality," the debunking motif Becke
(1964:4-5) sees in the "new deviance," is directed toward the police, th
prison officials, the mental hospital personnel, the "average" perso:
and his prejudices. The basic social, political, and economic StruCturE
and those commanding it who guide the labelling and persecution, ar
left untouched. We have become so accustomed to debunking these lay..
level agents that we do not even know how to begin to direct our al
tention to the ruling institutions and groups (for an attempt at such a
analysis, see Liazos, 1970).
In a later paper, Becker (1967) poses an apparently insoluable dilem
ma. He argues that, in studying agents of social control, we are alway
forced to study subordinates. We can never really get to the top, to rhos
who "really" run the show, for if we study X's superior Y, we find:
above him, and so on endlessly. Everyone has somebody over him, SI
there is no one at the top. But this is a clever point without substance. 1
this hierarchy some have more power than others and some are at th
top; they may disclaim their position, of course, but itis our job to sho\l
otherwise. Some people in this society do have more power than other:
parents over children, men over women; some have considerable powe
over others: top administrators of institutions, for one; and some have;
great deal of power, those Domhoff (1967) and others have shown to h
the ruling class. It should be our task to explore and describe this hier
archy, its bases of strength, its uses of the "deviant" label to discredi
its opponents in order to silence them, and to find ways to eliminab
this hierarchy.
Discussions of the police reveal the same misplaced emphasis 01
lower and middle level agents of social controL In three of the book
(Matza, 1969:182-95; Rubington and Weinberg, 1968:ch. 7; Dinitz, et nl.
1969:40-47), we are presented with the biases and prejudices 01 police
men; their modes of operation in confronting delinquents and others; thl
pressures on lhem from ValiOliS quarters; ete. In short, the focus is on th
role and psychology of the policeman.
All these issues about the policeman's situation need to be dis
cussed, of course: but there is an even more important issue which thesl
authors avoid. We must ask, who passes the laws the police enforce'
Whose agents are they? Why do the police exist? Three excellent paper:
(Cook, 1968; A. Silver, in Bordua, 1967; T. Hayden, in Rose, 1969) ofle
some answers to these questions. They show, through a historical de
scription of the origins of police forces, that they have always been llsec
to defend the status quo, the interests of the ruling powers. \!\!hen the po
lice force was created in England in the early 1800's, it was meant to de
fend the propertied classes from the "dangerous classes" and thl
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488 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
unrest from the suffering underclass; the professional police were meant
to ad as a buffer zone for the capitalist elite. Similarly, in America dur-
ing the early part of this century, especially in the 1930's, police were
used repeatedly to attack striking workers and break their strikes. Dur-
ing the Chicago "police riot" of 1968, the police were not merely acting
out their aggressions and frustrations; as Hayden shows, they acted
with the consent, direction, and blessing of Mayor Daley and the De-
mocratic party (which party represents the "liberal" wing of the Amer-
ican upper class).
It must be stressed that the police, like all agents of social control, are
doing someone else's work. Sometimes they enforce laws and preju-
dices of "society," the much maligned middle class (on sex, marijuana,
etc.); but at other times it is not "society" which gives them their direc-
tives, but specific interested groups, even though, often, "society" is ma-
nipulated to express its approval of such actions. Above all, we must
remember that "in a fimdamel1tally Hl1jHst socieh}, even the most impartial,
professional, efficient enforcement of the laws by tlte police cannot result in
jllstice" (Cook, 1968:2). More generally, in an unjust and exploitative so-
ciety, no matter how "humane" agents of social control are, their actions
necessarily result in repression.
Broad generalization is another device used by some of these au-
thors to avoid concrete examination of the uses of power in the creation
and labelling of "deviance." Clairborne (1971) has called such general-
ization "schlock." The following are some of the tactics he thinks are
commonly used in writing popular schlock sociology (some sociologists
of deviance use similar tactics, as we shall see).
The Plausible Passive:
"New scientific discoveries are being made every day.... These new
ideas are being put to work more quickly ... " [Toffler, in Flltllre Shock, is]
thereby rather neatly obscuring the fact that scientists and engineers
(mostly paid by industry) are making the discoveries and industrialists
(often with the aid of public funds) are putting them to work An al-
ternative to the Plausible Passive is the Elusive Impersonal: 'Buildings
in New York literally disappear overnight.' What Toffler is trying to
avoid saying is that contractors and real estate speculators destroy
buildings overnight (C1airborne, 1971:118).
Rampant Reification, by which "conceptual abstractions are transformed
into causal realities/' also abounds. Tomer
speaks of the "roaring current of change" as "an elemental force" and
of "that great, growling engine of change-technology." Which of
course completely begs the question of what fuels the engine and
whose hand is on the throttle. One does not cross~examine an elemen-
tal force,
.•
letr alone
·.,
s~ggest
• ,, __ •
Ulat it may have been engendered by mo~
.1.r. ..:1 • • ________ , +._-11+ __
_______ 1 __
34. Alexander Liazos 489
government incentives (e.g., open or concealed subsidies, low capital
gains tax, accelerated depreciation-which Nixon is now seeking to
reinstitute) (Clairbome, 1971:118).
There are parallels in the sociology of deviance, Clinard (1968:ch.
4) argues that urbanization and the slum are breeding grounds for "de-
viant behavior." But these conditions are reified, not examined con-
cretely. He says about urbanization and social change:
Rapid social and cultural change, disregard for the importance of sta-
bility of generations, and lU1tempered loyalties also generally charac-
terize urban life. New ideas are generally welcome, inventions and
mechanical gadgets are encouraged, and new styles in such arts as
painting, literature, and music are often approved (1968:90).
But the slum, urbanization, and change are not reified entities working
out their independent wills. For example, competition, capitalism, and
the profit motive-all encouraged by a government controlled by the
upper classes-have had something to do with the rise of slums. There
is a general process of urbanization, but at given points in history it is
fed by, and gives profits to, specific groups. The following are a few his-
torical examples: the land enclosure policies and practices of the English
ruling classes in the 17th and 18th centuries; the building of cheap hous-
ing in the 19th century by the owners of factory towns; and the profits
derived from "urban renewal" (which has destroyed neighborhoods,
created even more crowded slums, etc.) by the building of highways,
luxury apartments, and stores.
Another favorite theme of sehlock sociology is that "All Men Are
Guilty." That means nothing can be done to change things. There is a
variation of this theme in the sociology of deviance when we are told
that (a) all of us are deviant in some way, (b) all of us label some others
deviant, and (e) "society" labels. Such statements preclude asking con-
crete questions: does the "deviance" of each of us have equal conse-
quences for others? Does the labelling of each of us stick, and with what
results?
For example, Simmons (1969:124) says:
.. .1 strongly suspect that officials now further alienate more culprits
than they recruit back into conventional society, and I think they im-
prison at least as many people in deviance as they rehabilitate. We
must remember that, with a sprinkling of exceptions, officials come
from, are hired by, and belong to tile dominant majority.
Who is that dominant majority? Are they always the numerical majori-
ty? Do they control the labelling and correctional process all by them-
selves? These questions are not raised.
Another case of schlock is found in Matza's discussion (lack of it, re-
_11 __ \ _fliT __ +:_._1+_.+11 (1nrn ______ =_ll ___ t+ 1"1\ T~= ____ +_ •. =_.++_1.+ ~_+_'_ •• L
 490 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
force in the labelling and handling of "deviance." But, vainly, one keeps
looking for some exploration into the workings of "Leviathan," It re-
mains a reified, aloof creature. What is it? Who controls it? How does it
label? Why? rvlatza seems content to try to mesmerize us by mentioning
it constantly (Leviathan is capitalized throughout); but we are never
shown how it operates. It hovers in the background, it punishes, and
its presence somehow cowers us into submission. But it remains a reified
force whose presence is accepted without close examination.
The preceding examples typify much of what is wrong with the so-
ciology of deviance: the lack of specific analysis of the role of power in
the labelling process; the generalizations which, even when true, ex-
plain little; the fascination with "deviants"; the reluctance to study the
"deviance" of the powerful.
IV
I want to start my concluding comments -with MO disclaimers.
(a) I have tried to provide some balance and perspective in the field
of "deviance," and in doing so I have argued against the exclusive em-
phasis on Hllts, sluts, and preverts and their identities and subcultures. I
do not mean, however, that the usually considered forms of "deviance"
are unworthy of our attention. Suicide, prostitution, madness, juvenile
delinquency, and others are with us; we cannot ignore them. People do
suffer when labelled and treated as "deviant" (in this sense, "deviants"
are different from confonrusts). Rather, I want to draw attention to phe-
nomena which also belong to the field of "deviant."s
(b) It is because the sociology of deviance, especially the labelling ap-
proach, contains important, exciting, and revealing insights, because it
tries to humanize the "deviant," and because it is popular, that it is easy
to overlook some of the basic ideological biases still pervading the field.
For this season, I have tried to explore and detail some of these biases. At
the same time, however, I do not mean to dismiss the contributions of
the field as totally negative and useless. In fact, in my teaching I have
been using two of the books discussed here, Simmons (1969) and Rub-
ington and Weinberg (1968).
The argument can be sununarized briefly. (1) We should not study
only, or predominantly, the popular and dramatic forms of "deviance."
Indeed, we should banish the concept of "deviance" and speak of op-
pression, conflict, persecution, and suffering. By focusing on the dra-
matic forms, as we do now, we perpetuate most people's beliefs and
impressions that such "deviance" is the basic cause of many of our trou-
bles, that these people (criminals, drug addicts, political dissenters, and
others) are the real "troublemakers"; and, necessarily, we neglect con-
r!;hn,.,,,, nt ;,., ........ ",,1;1-<, ................ 1" .... " .... " .... ,., ; ...... J·;,.·.,t-; ....... ..,1 Hi .... 1......... "
34. Alexander Liazos 491
which lie at the bases of our tortured society. (2) Even when we do study
the popular fonns of "deviance," we do not avoid blaming the victim for
his fate; the continued use of the term "deviant" is one clue to this
blame. Nor have we succeeded in normalizing him; the focus on the
"deviant" himself, on his identity and subculture, has tended to con-
firm the popular prejudice that he is different.
NOTES
1. Bend and Vogenfanger (1964) examined social problems textbooks of the
early 1960's; they found there was little theory or emphasis on social
structure in them.
2. What I say below applies to the "labelling-interactionist" school of de-
viance of Seeker, Lemert, Erikson, Matza, and others: to a large degree,
however, most of my comments also apply to the other schools.
3. The first draft of this paper was completed in July, 1971. The killing of
George Jackson at San Quentin on August 21, 1971, which many people
see as a political murder, and the Attica prisoner rebellion of early Sep-
tember, 1971, only strengthen the argument about political prisoners. Two
things became clear: a) Not only a few "radicals," but many prisoners (if
not a majority) see their fate as the outcome of political forces and deci-
sions, and themselves as political prisoners (see Fraser, 1971). Robert
Chrisman's argument (in Fraser, 1971) points to such a conclusion clearly:
"To maintain that all black offenders are, by their actions, politically cor-
rect, is dangerous romanticism. Black antisocial behavior must be seen in
and of its own terms and corrected for enhancement of the black commu-
nity." But there is a political aspect, for black prisoners' condition "derives
from the political inequity of black people in America. A black prisoner's
crime mayor may not have been a political action against the state, but
the state's action against him is always political." I would stress that the
same is true of most white prisoners, for they come mostly from the ex-
plOited poorer classes and groups. b) The state authorities, the political
rulers, by their deeds if not their words, see such prisoners as political
men and threats. The death of George Jackson, and the brutal crushing of
the Attica rebellion, attest to the authorities' realization, and fear, that here
were no mere riots with prisoners letting off steam, but authentic political
actions, involving groups and individuals conscious of their social posi~
tion and exploitation.
4. With the exception of E. C. Huges, in Seeker (1964).
5. As Gittlin and Hollander (1970) show, the children of poor whites also
suffer from lead poisoning.
6. Investigation of the causes and prevention of institutional violence would
probably be biting the hand that feeds the sociologist, for we read that the
government and foundations {whose money comes from corporate
...... ..:1 <' .... ,., ...
...~~c.: ... ~\ l..~ •• _ ~ •• ___ -'-~..:I ~ ______ l.. __ 11..:1 __ -: __ .1. '-_'-_.-: __ " ____ --=_11 __ =L_
 490 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
force in the labelling and handling of IIdeviance." But, vainly, one keeps
looking for some exploration into the workings of "Leviathan." It re-
mains a reified, aloof creature. What is it? Who controls it? How does it
label? Why? 1vlatza Seems content to try to mesmerize us by mentiOning
it constantly (Leviathan is capitalized throughout); but we are never
sho'WIl how it operates. It hovers in the background, it punishes, and
its presence somehow cowers us into submission. But it remains a reified
force whose presence is accepted without close examination.
TIle preceding examples typify much of what is wrong with the so-
ciology of deviance: the lack of specific analysis of the role of power in
the labelling process; the generalizations which, even when true, ex-
plain little; the fascination with "deviants"; the reluctance to study the
"deviance" of the powerful.
IV
I want to start my concluding comments with two disclaimers.
(n) I have tried to provide some balance and perspective in the field
of "deviance/' and in doing so I have argued against the exclusive em-
phasis on Huts, sluts, and preverts and their identities and subcultures. I
do not mean, however, that the usually considered forms of "deviance"
are unworthy of our attention. Suicide, prostitution, madness, juvenile
delinquency, and others are with us; we cannot ignore them. People do
suffer when labelled and treated as "deviant" (in this sense, "deviants"
are different from conformists). Rather, I want to draw attention to phe-
nomena which also belong to the field of "deviant."B
(h) It is because the sociology of deviance, especially the labelling ap-
proach, contains important, exciting, and revealing insights, because it
tries to humanize the "deviant," and because it is popular, that it is easy
to overlook some of the basic ideological biases still pervading the field.
For this season, I have tried to explore and detail some of these biases. At
the same time, however, I do not mean to dismiss the contributions of
the field as totally negative and useless. In fact, in my teaching I have
been using two of the books discussed here, Simmons (1969) and Rub-
ington and Weinberg (1968).
The argument can be summarized briefly. (1) We should not study
only, or predominantly, the popular and dramatic forms of IIdeviance."
Indeed, we should banish the concept of "deviance" and speak of op-
pression, conflict, persecution, and suffering. By focusing on the dra-
matic forms, as we do now, we perpetuate most people's beliefs and
impressions that such "deviance" is the basic cause of many of our trou-
bles, that these people (criminals, drug addicts, political dissenters, and
others) are the real "troublemakers"; and, necessarily, we neglect con-
"':;;Hn ... ,., ,..(. :~~~ .. ~l:.I_.. _~ •.• ~~1 _______ : __ ...: .... ...: __ ~1
34. Alexander Liazos 491
which lie at the bases of our tortured society. (2) Even when we do study
the popular forms of "deviance," we do not avoid blaming the victim for
his fate; the continued use of the term" deviant" is one clue to this
blame. Nor have we succeeded in normalizing him; the focus on the
"deviant" himself, on his identity and subculture, has tended to con-
firm the popular prejudice that he is different.
NOTES
1. Bend and Vogenfanger (1964) examined social problems textbooks of the
early 1960's; they found there was litHe theory or emphaSiS on social
structure in them.
2. What I say below applies to the "labelling-interactionist" school of de-
viance of Becker, Lemert, Erikson, Matza, and others: to a large degree,
however, most of my comments also apply to the other schools.
3. The first draft of this paper was completed in July, 1971. The killing of
George Jackson at San Quentin on August 21, 1971, which many people
see as a political murder, and the Attica prisoner rebellion of early Sep-
tember, 1971, only strengthen the argument about political prisoners. Two
things became clear: a) Not only a few "radicals," but many prisoners (if
not a majority) see their fate as the outcome of political forces and deci-
sions, and themselves as political prisoners (see Fraser, 1971). Robert
Chrisman's argument (in Fraser, 1971) points to such a conclusion clearly:
"To maintain that all black offenders are, by their actions, politically cor-
rect, is dangerous romanticism. Black antisocial behavior must be seen in
and of its own terms and corrected for enhancement of the black commu-
nity." But there is a political aspect, for black prisoners' condition "derives
from the political inequity of black people in America. A black prisoner's
crime mayor may not have been a political action against the state, but
the state's action against him is always political." I would stress that the
same is true of most white prisoners, for they come mostly from the ex-
ploited poorer classes and groups. b) The state authorities, the political
rulers, by their deeds if not their words, see such prisoners as political
men and threats. The death of George Jackson, and the brutal crushing of
the Attica rebellion, attest to the authorities' realization, and fear, that here
were no mere riots with prisoners letting off steam, but authentic political
actions, involving groups and individuals conscious of their social posi-
tion and exploitation.
4. With the exception of E. C. Huges, in Becker (1964).
5. AB Gittlin and Hollander (1970) show, the children of poor whites also
suffer from lead poiSOning.
6. Investigation of the causes and prevention of institutional violence would
probably be biting the hand that feeds the sociologist, for we read that the
government and foundations (whose money comes from corporate
TT:~l~ __ ~ __ ..l ___ _ _ __ r.:. .. _1 1. ______ • ____ .. _..:1 _______ 1. __ "..:I_• .: __ .&. 1.._1._.': __ " ____ ...:.11 •• : .....
492 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 34. Alexander Liazos 493

prevention. "This has meant particularly thallhe application of socio-
logical theory to research has increased markedly in such areas as delin-
quency, crime, mental disorder, alcoholism, drug addiction, and
discrimination" (Clinard, 1968:742). That's where the action is, not on
white-collar crime, nor on the covert institutional violence of the govern-
ment and economy.
7. See Rude (1966) on the role of mobs of poor workers and peasants in 18th
and 19th cenhlry England and France.
8. The question of "what deviance is to the deviant" (Cordon Fellman, pri-
vate communication), not what the labelling, anomie, and other schools,
or the present radical viewpoint say abollt such a person, is not dealt with
here. 1 avoid this issue not because I think it unimportant, rather because I
want to concentrate on the paliticat moral; and social issues raised by the
biases of those presently writing about the "deviant."
REFERENCES
Becker, Howard S.
*1963 Outsiders. New York: Free Press.
*1964 (ed.) The Other Side. New York: Free Press.
1967 "Whose side are we on?" Social Problems 14:239-247 (reprinted in
Douglas, 1970a, 99-111; references to t?is reprint).
Bell, Robert R.
*1971 Social Deviance: A Substantive Analysis. Homewood, Illinois:
Dorsey.
Bend, Emil and Marlin Vogenfanger
1964 "A new look at Mills' critique," in Mass Society in Crisis, Bemard
Rosenberg, Israel Gerver, F. William Howton (eds.). New York:
Macmillan, 1964, 111-122.
Cahen, Albert K.
*1966 Deviance and Control. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall.
Cook, Robert M.
1968 "The police." The Bulletin of the American Independent Movement
(New Haven, Conn.), 3:6, 1-6.
Dinitz, Simon, Russell R. Dynes, and Alfred C. Clarke (eds,)
*1969 Deviance. New York: Oxford University Press.
Domhoff, William G.
1967 Who Rules America? Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall.
Douglas, Jack D.
*1970.1 (ed.) Observations of Deviance. New York: Random House.
*1960b(ed.) Deviance and Respectability: The Social Construction of Moral
Meanings. New York: Basic Books.
Fraser, C. Gerald
1971 "Black prisoners finding new view of themselves as political prison-
ers." New York TImes, Sept. 16.
Gittlin, Todd and Nand Hollander
1970 Up town: Poor Whites in Chicago. New York: Harper and Row.
Gouldner, Alvin W.
1968 "The sociologist as partisan: Sociology and the welfare state." Ameri-
can Sociologist 3:2,103-116.
Henry, Jules
1963 Culture Against Man. New York: Random House.
Jackson, George
1970 Soledad Brother. New York: Bantam Books.
Lefton, Mark, J. K. Skipper, and C. H. McCaghy (eds.)
~1968 Approaches to Deviance. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts.

Bordua, David (ed.) Lemert, Edwin M.

1967 The Police. New York: Wiley. *1967 Human Deviance, Social Problems, and Social Control. Englewood
Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall.
Carmichael, Stokeley and Charles V. Hamilton
1967 Black Power. New York: Random House. Liazos, Alexander
Clairborne, Robert 1970 Processing for Unfitness: socialization of "emotionally disturbed"
1971 "Future schlock." The Nation, Jan. 25, 117-120. lower-dass boys into the mass society. Ph.D. Dissertation, Brandeis
University.
Cleaver, Eldridge
Lofland, John
1968 Soul on Ice. New York: McGraw-Hill.
*1969 Deviance and Identity. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-hall.
Clinard, Marshall B.
McCaghy, Charles H., j. K. Skipper, and M. Letton (eds.)
*1968 Sociology of Deviant Behavior. (3rd ed.) New York: Halt, Rinehart,
and Wins ton. *1968 In Their Own Behalf: Voices from the Margin. New York: Appleton-
Century-Crofts.
McGinniss, Joe
lQ';Q The 1::"'11.;,.., ..... ,..; ~h", Prm'.;.4 ....... ~ 10t::Q "",Tn ... V~~l .. 'T''''':..l __ 1..
 494 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 35. Steven Spitzer 495

MalcolrnX
35 Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance
1965 The Autobiography of Malcolm X. New York: Grove.
STEVEN SPITZER
Matza, David
*1969 Becoming Deviant. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall. Within the last decade American sociologists have become increasing-
Mills, C. Wright ly reflective in the~ approach to deviance and social problems. They
1943 "The professional ideology of social pathologists." American Journal have come to recognize that interpretations of deviance are often ideo-
of Sociology 49:165-180. logical in their assumptions and implications, and that sociolOgists are
Newfield, Jack frequently guilty of II providing the facts which make oppression more
1971 "Let them Eat lead." New York Tunes, June 16, p. 45.
efficient and the theory which makes it legitimate to a larger con-
stituency" (Becker and Horowitz, 1972: 48). To combat this tendency
Qltinn, Olive W.
students of deviance have invested more and more energy in the search
1954 "!he transmission of racial attitudes among white southerners." So~
for a critical theory. This search has focused on three major problems:
aal Forces 33:1, 41....47 (reprinted in E. Schuler, et al., eds., Readings in
(1) the definition of deviance, (2) the etiology of deviance, and (3) the
Sociology, 2nd ed., New York: Crowell, 1960, 140-150)
etiology of control.
Rose, Thomas (ed.)
1969 Violence in America. New York: Random House.
Rubington, Earl and M. S. Weinberg (eds.) TRADITIONAL THEORIES AND THEIR PROBLEMS
*1968 Deviance: The interactionist Perspective. New York: Macmillian.
Rude, George Traditional theories approached the explanation of deviance with little
1966 The Crowd in History. New York: Wiley. equivocation about the phenomenon to be explained. Prior to the 1960s
Rushing, William A. (ed.) the subject matter of deviance theory was taken for granted and few
*1969 Deviant Behavior and Social Processes. Chicago: Rand McNally, were disturbed by its preoccupation with "dramatic and predatory"
Simmons, J. 1. forms of social behavior (Uazos, 1972). Only in recent years have soci-
*1969 Deviants, Berkeley, Ca!.: Glendessary. ologists started to question the consequences of singling out "nuts,"
Szasz, Thomas S. "sluts," "perverts," "lames," "crooks," "junkies," and "juicers" for spe-
1961 The Myth of Mentalll1ness. New York: Harper and Row.
cial attention. Instead of adopting conventional wisdom about who and
1963 Law, Liberty, and Psychiatry. New York: Macmillian. wlmt is deviant, investigators have gradually made the definitional prob-
1970 The Manufacture of Madness. New York: Harper and Row. lem central to the sociological enterprise. They have begun to appreciate
Thompson, Hunter S. the consequences of studying the powerless (rather than the power-
1966 Hell's Angels. New York: Ballantine. full-both in terms of the relationship between k1lowledge of and control
over a group, and the support for the "hierarchy of credibility" (Becker,
1967) that such a focus provides. Sociologists have discovered the sig-
nificance of the definitional process in their own, as well as society's re-
sponse to deviance, and this discovery has raised doubts about the
direction and purpose of the field.

Reprinted from Steven Spitzer, "Toward a Marxian Theory of Deviance." Socinl Problems,
vol. 22, no. 50une 1975), pp. 638--651. Copyright © 1975 by the Society for the Study of
Social Problems. By permission of the publisher.
Revised version of a paper presented at the American Sociological Association meet-
ings, August, 1975. I would like to thank Cedle Sue eoren and Andrew T. Scull for their
criticisms and suggestions.
496 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Even when the definitional issue can be resolved critics are faced
with a second and equally troublesome problem. Traditional theories
of deviance are essentially HOll-structuml and a/tistorical in their mode
of analysis. By restricting investigation to factors which are manipu-
lable within existing structural arrangements these theories embrace
a "correctional perspective" (Matza, 1969) and divert attention from
the impact of the political economy as a whole. From this point of
view deviance is in but not of our contemporary social order. Theories
that locate the source of deviance in factors as diverse as personality
structure, family systems, cultural transmission, social disorganiza-
tion and differential opportunity share a common flaw-they attempt
to understand deviance apart from historically specific forms of po-
litical and economic organization. Because traditional theories pro-
ceed without any sense of historical development, deviance is
normally viewed as an episodic and transitory phenomenon rather
than an outgrowth of long-term structural change. Sensitive sociolo-
gists have come to realize that critical theory must establish, rather
than obscure, the relationship between deviance, social structure and
social change.
A final problem in the search for a critical theory of deviance is the
absence of a coherent theory of control. More than ever before critics
have come to argue that deviance cannot be understood apart from
the dynamics of control. Earlier theories devoted scant attention to
the control process precisely because control was interpreted as a nat-
ural response to behavior generally assumed to be problematic. Since
theories of deviance viewed control as a desideratum, no theory of
control was required. But as sociologists began to question conven-
tional images of deviance they revised their impressions of social con-
trol. Rather than assuming that societal reaction was necessarily
defensive and benign, skeptics announced that controls could actual-
ly cause deviance. The problem was no longer simply to explain the
independent sources of deviance and control, but to understand the
reciprocal relationship between the two.
In elevating control to the position of an independent variable a
more critical orientation has evolved. Yet this orientation has created
a number of problems of its own. If deviance is simply a status, rep-
resenting the outcome of a series of control procedures, should our
theory of deviance be reduced to a theory of control? In what sense, if
any, is deviance an achieved rather than an ascribed status? How do
we account for the historical and structural sources of deviance apart
from those shaping the development of formal controls?
35. Steven Spitzer 497
TOWARD A THEORY OF DEVIANCE PRODUCTION
A critical theory must be able to account for both deviallce and deviants.
It must be sensitive to the process through which deviance is subjec-
tively constructed a.nd deviants are objectively handled, as well as the
structural bases of the behavior and characteristics which come to offi-
cial attention. It should neither beg the explanation of deviant behavior
and characteristics by depicting the deviant as a helpless victim of op-
pression, nor fail to realize that his identification as deviant, the dimen-
sions of his threat, and the priorities of the control system are part of a
broader social conflict. While aclmowledging the fact that deviance is a
status imputed to groups who share certain structural characteristics
(e.g., powerlessness) we must not forget that these groups are defined by
more than these characteristics alone. 1 We must not only ask why spe-
cific members of the underclass are selected for official processing, but
also why they behave as they do. Deviant statuses, no matter how co-
ercively applied, are in some sense achieved and we must understand
this achievement in the context of political-economic conflict. We need to
understand why capitalism produces both patterns of activity and types
of people that are defined and managed as deviant.
In order to construct a general theory of deviance and control it is
useful to conceive of a process of deviance production which can be un-
derstood in relationship to the development of class society. Deviance
prodllctio11 involves all aspects DJ tlIe process through which populatiol1s are
structllrally generated, as well as shaped, clzanneled into, and ma11ipulated
within social categories defined as deviant. This process includes the devel-
opment of and changes in: (1) deviant definitions, (2) problem popula-
tions, and (3) control systems.
Most fundamentally, deviance production involves the develop-
ment of and changes in deviant categories and images. A critical theory
must examine where these images and definitions come from, what they
reflect about the structure of and priorities in specific class societies, and
how they are related to class conflict. If we are to explain, for example,
how mental retardation becomes deviance and the feeble-minded de-
viant we need to examine the stnlctural characteristics, economic and
political dimensions of the society in which these definitions and im-
ages emerged. In the case of American society we must understand how
certain correlates of capitalist development (proletarianization and nu-
clearization of the family) weakened traditional methods of assimilating
these groups, how others (the emergence of scientific and meritocratic
ideologies) sanctioned intellectual stratification and differential han-
 Politics and Class in the Shtdy of Deviance
498
dting, and how still others (the attraction of unskilled Iabor and popu-
lation concentrations) heightened concern over the "threat" that these
groups were assumed to represent. In other words, the fann and content
of deviance definition must be assessed in terms of its relationship to
both structural and ideological change.
A second aspect of deviance production is the development of and
changes in problem behaviors and problem populations. If we assume
that class societies are based on fundamental conflicts between groups,
and that harmony is achieved through the dominance of a specific class,
it makes sense to argue that deviants are culled from groups who create
specific problems for those who rule. Although these groups may vic-
timize or burden those outside of the dominant class, their problematic
quality ultimately resides in their challenge to the basis and form of
class rule. Because problem populations are not always "handled:' they
provide candidates for, but are in no sense equivalent to, official de-
viants. A sophisticated critical theory must investigate where these
groups come from, why their behaviors and characteristics are prob-
lematic, and how they are transformed in a developing political econo-
my. We must consider, for instance, why Chinese laborers in 19th
century California and Chicanos in the Southwest during the 1930s be-
came the object of official concern, and why drug laws evolved to ad-
dress the "problems" that these groups came to represent (Helmer and
Vietorisz, 1973; Musto, 1973).
The changing character of problem populations is related to de-
viance production in much the same way that variations in material re-
sources sources affect manufacturing. Changes in the quantity and
quality of raw materials influence the scope and priorities of produc-
tion, but the characteristics of the final product depend as much on the
methods of production as the source material. 111ese methods comprise
the third element in deviance production-the development and oper-
ation of the control system. The theory must explain why a system of
contIol emerges under specific conditions and account for its size, focus
and working assumptions. The effectiveness of the system in con-
fronting problem populations and its internal structure must be under-
stood in order to interpret changes in the form and content of controL
Thus, in studying the production of the "mentally ill" we must not only
consider why deviance has been "therapeutized," but also how this de-
velopment reflects the subtleties of class control. Under capitalism, for
example, fonnal control of the mad and the birth of the asylum may be
examined as a response to the growing demands for order, responsibil-
ity and restraint (cf. Foucault, 1965).
35. Steven Spitzer 499
THE PRODUCTION OF DEVIANCE IN
CAPITALIST SOCIETY
The concept of deviance production offers a starting point for the analy-
sis of both deviance and control. But for such a construct to ser:v e as ~
critical tool it must be grounded in an historical and structural mvesb.-
gation of society. For Marx, th.e cruc~al u:ut of ~alysis is the mode of
production that dominates a gIven hlstoncalperlOd. If we ~e to have a
Marxian theory of deviance, therefore, deVIance ~roductlO~ must b.e
understood in relationship to specific forms of SOClOeconOffilC orgaru-
zation. In our society, productive activity is organized capitalistically
and it is ultimately defined by "the process that transf~rm~ on the ?ne
hand the social means of subsistence and of production mto capItal,
on th~ other hand the immediate producers into wage labourers" (Marx,
1967: 714). . .
There are two features of the capitalist mode of production Impor-
tant for purposes of this discussion. First, as a. mode .of production it
forms the foundation or infrastructure of our SOCIety. This means that the
starting point of our analysis must be an unde~standing of the econ~m­
ic organization of capitalist societies and the lillpact of that org~z~­
tion on all aspects of social life. But the capitalist mod.e of produ~ti~n IS
an important starting point in another sense. It contams contra~c~ons
which reflect the internal tendencies of capitalism. These contradIctions
are important because they explain the changin~ chara~t~r of the .capi-
talist system and the nature of its impact o~ SOCIal, pO~lhcal and ~tel­
lectual activity. The formulation of a MarxIst perspe~tive on devlan.ce
requires tl1e interpretalion of the process through wiuch the contr~dlc­
lions of capitalism are expressed. In particular: t~e theory must illus-
trate the relationship betvveen specific contradIctIons, the problems of
capitalist development and the production of a deviant class. .
The superstructure of society emerges from and reflects the on~o~g
development of economic forces (the infrastructure). In class SoCIetIes
this superstructure preserves the hegemony of the ruling c1~ss t~ou~h
a system of class controls. These controls, which are institutIonalIzed m
the family, church, private associations, media, schools and the. st~te,
provide a mechanism for coping with the contradictions and achlevmg
the aim of capitalist development.
Among the most important functions served by the superstructure
in capitalist societies is the regulation and management of problem pop-
ulations. Because deviance processing is only onc of the methods ~vatl­
able for social conlTol, these groups supply raw material for deViance
 500 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
production, but are by no means synonymous with deviant popula-
tions. Problem populations tend to share a number of social character-
istics, but most important among these is the fact that their behavior,
personal qualities and/ or position threaten the social relations of produc-
tion in capitalist societies. In other words, populations become general-
ly eligible for management as deviant when they disturb, hinder ar call
into question any of the following:
1. Capitalist modes of appropriating the product of human
labar (e.g. when the poor "steal" from the rich).
2. The social conditions under which capitalist production
takes place (e.g. those who refuse or are unable to perform
wage labor).
3. Patterns of distribution and consumption in capitalist society
(e.g. those who use drugs for escape and transcendence
rather than sociability and adjustment),
4. The process of socialization for productive and non-produc-
tive roles (e.g. youth who refuse to be schooled or those who
deny the validity of "family life'').'
5. The ideology which supports the functioning of capitalist
society (e.g. proponents of alternative forms of social organi-
zation).
Although problem populations are defined in terms of the threat
and costs that they present to the social relations of production in capi-
talist societies, these populations are far from isomorphic with a revo-
lutionary class. It is certainly true that some members .of the problem
populatiDn, may under specific circumstances possess revolutionary po-
tential. But this potential can only be realized if the problematic group is
located in a position of functional indispensability within the capitalist
system. Historically, capitalist societies have been quite successful in
transforming those who are problematic and indispensabl,e (the proto-
revolutionary class) into groups who are either problematic and dis-
pensable (candidates for deviance processing), or indispensable but not
problematic (supporters of the capitalist order). On the other hand, sim-
ply because a group is manageable does not mean that it ceases to be a
problem for the capitalist class. Even though dispensable problem pop-
ulations cannot .overturn the capitalist system, they can represent a sig-
nificant impediment to its maintenance and growth. It is in this sense
that they becDme eligible for management as deviants.
Problem populations are created in two 'ways-either directly
through the expression of fundamental contradictions in the capitalist
mode of production or indirectly through disturbances in the system of
35. Steven Spitzer 501
class rule. An example of the first process is found in Marx's analysis of
the "relative surplus-population."
Writing on the "General Law of Capitalist Accumulation" Marx ex-
lains how increased social redundance is inherent in the development
~f the capitalist mode of production:
With the extension of the scale of production, and the mass of the
labourers set in motion, with the greater breadth and fullness of all
sources of wealth there is also an extension of the scale on which
greater attraction' of laboure.rs by capi~al is accompanied by their
greater repulsion ... The labounng population ~erefore produces, ?l0r:tg
with the accumulation of capital produced ?y It, the ~eans by which.lt-
self is made relatively superfluous, ... and It does this to an always m-
crea~~g extent (Marx, 1967: 631).
In its most limi:ted sense the production of a relative surplus-popu-
lation involves the creation .of a class which is economically redundant.
But insofar, as the conditions of economic existence determine social ex-
istence, this process helps explain the emergence of groups who become
both threatening and vulnerable at the same time. The marginal status of
these populations reduces their stake in the maintenance o~ the sy~tem
while their powerlessness and dispensability renders them mcreasmgly
susceptible to the mechanisms of official co~trol. .
The paradox surrounding the productIOn of the relativ~ surplus-
population is that this population is b~th useful and me~acmg to the
accumulation of capital. Marx descnbes how the relatIve surpl~s­
population "forms a disposable industrial a.rmy: that belong~, tD capItal
quite as absolutely as if the latter had bred It at Its O'W11 cost,. and how
this army, "creates, for the changing needs of the self-expanslOn of cap-
ital, a mass of human material always ready for exploitation" (Marx,
1967: 632).
On the other hand, it is apparent that an excessive increase in what
Marx called the "lowest sediment" of the relative surplus-population,
might seriously impair the growth of capital. The harmony c~eated b~ a
large and economically stagnant surplus-popUlation coul~ JeopardlZe
the preconditions for accumulation by undermining the. Ide~logy of
equ~ity so essential to the legitimation .of production re~ati~ns ill bour-
geois democracies, diverting revenues away from capItal I.nvestme~t
toward control and support operations, and providing a baSIS for polIt-
ical organization of the dispossessed.3 To the extent that the relative s~r­
plus-population confronts the capitalist class as a tru:ea.t to. the 50ctal
relations of production it reflects an important contradIchon ill modern
capitalist societies: a surplus-population is a nec~ss~ry pr~duct ~f and
condition for the accumulation of wealth on a capItalist baSIS, but It also
 502 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
creates a form of social expense which must be neutralized or controlled
if production relations and conditions for increased accumulation are
to remain unimpaired.
Problem populations are also generated through contradictions
which develop in the system of class rule. The institutions which make
up the superstructure of capitalist society originate and are maintained
to guarantee the interests of the capitalist class. Yet these institutions
~ec~ssarily reproduce, rather than resolve, the contradictions of the cap-
Italist order. In a dialectical fashion, arrangements which arise in order
to buttress capitalism are transformed into their opposite-structures
of the cultivation of internal threats. An instructive example of this
process is found in the emergence and transformation of educational
institutions in the United States.
The introduction of mass education in the United States can be
traced to the developing needs of corporate capitalism (cf. Karier, 1973;
Cohen and Lazerson, 1972; Bowles and Gintis, 1972; Spring, 1972). Com-
pul~o~ e.ducation provided a means of training, testing and sorting, and
assimilating wage-Iaborers, as well as Vvithholding certain populations
from the labor market. The system was also intended to preserve the
~al~es of. bourgeois society and operate as an "inexpensive form of po-
lice (Spnng, 1973: 31). However, as Gintis (1973) and Bowles (1973) have
sug?"ested, the ~ternal contradictions of schooling can lead to effects op-
posIte of those mtended. For the poor, early schooling can make explic-
It the oppressiveness and alienating character of capitalist institutions
while higher education can instill critical abilities which lead students t~
"bite the hand that feeds them." In both cases educational institutions
create troublesome populations (Le. drop outs and student radicals) and
contribute to the very problems they were designed to solve.
After understanding how and why specific groups become gener-
ally ~~thersome in capitalist society. it is necessary to investigate the
~OndItions ~der which these groups are transformed into proper ob-
Jects for sOCIal controL In other words, we must ask what distinguishes
the generally problematic from the specifically deviant. The rate at
which problem populations are converted into deviants will reflect the
relationship between these populations and the control system. This
rate is likely to be influenced by the:
1. Extensiveness and Intensity of State Controls. Deviance processing
(as opposed to other control measures) is more likely to occur when
problem management is monopolized by the state. As state controls are
applied more generally the proportion of official deviants will increase.
2. Size mid Level of Tln'eal Presented by the Problem Papulatiall. TI,e
lare-pr ilnn mnrp ~hrp:1h:'njn" +ho ...........hl"' ...... ..-. .... ~ .. 1~k:~_ .. I....~ ____ '-_._ 11. _
35. Steven Spitzer 503
likelihood that this population will have to be controlled through de-
viance processing rather than other n:~thods: As the threat ~reated b.r
these populations exceeds the capaCItIes of mf~rmal restramts, th~lr
management requires a broadening of the reaction s~s~e~ and an m-
creasing centralization and coordination of contr~l actIVIties. .
3. Level of Organizatioll of the Problem PopulatIOn. When and if prob-
lem populations are able to orga~e and de~elop ~ted amounts. of
political power, deviance proc€ssu:g b~comes m~reasmgly 1:5s effec~ve
as a tool for social control. The attrIbution of devIant status IS most like-
ly to occur when a group is relatively impotent. and atomize~. _ .
4. Effectiveness of Control StfllctllreS Organ~z~d thr~lIgh .CIV!l Soclet~.
The greater the effectiveness of the organs of cIvil socIety (l.e. the farrll-
ly, church, media, schools, sports) in solving the ~roblems of class.c~n­
tro!, the less the likelihood that deviance processmg (a more explICItly
political process) will be employed. . ' .
5. Availabilihj a11d Effectiveness of Alte1'11atlVe Types of OffiClO1 Pro-
cessil1g. In some cases the state will be abl~ effl~ctively t~ incorporate
certain segments of the problem populatIOn mto sP:cI.ally created
"prosocial" roles. In the modern era, for example, conscnpti.on and pub-
lic works projects (Piven and Cloward, 1971) helped neutralize the prob-
lems posed by troublesome populations without creating new or
expanding old deviant categories.
6. Availability and Effectiveness of Parallel CO/ttrol Stnlefl/res. In many
instances the state can transfer its costs of deviance production by sup-
porting or at least tolerating the activities of independent control ne~­
works which operate in its interests. For example, when the ~t~te IS
denied or is reluctant to assert a monopoly over the use of force It IS fre-
quently willing to encourage vigilante organizations and privat: police
in the suppression of problem populations. Simi~ar1y, ~e sta~e IS often
benefited by the policies and practices of orgamzed cnme, IOsofar. as
these activities help pacify, contain and enforce order among potentIal-
ly disruptive groups (Schelling, 1967). .
7. Utility of Problem Poplllatio/ls. While problem populatIOns are
defined in terms of their threat and costs to capitalist relations of pro-
duction, they are not threatening in every respect. They can be sup-
portive economically (as part of a surplus labor p~ol or du.al labor
market), politically (as evidence of the need for state InterventIOn) and
ideologically (as scapegoats for rising discontent). In other w~rds,. ~der
certain conditions capitalist societies derive benefits from mamtammg a
number of visible and uncontrolled "troublemakers" in their midst Such
popuIations are distinguished by the fact that while th~y rem~in gener-
ally bothersome, the costs that they inflict are most ImmedIately ab-
, ,,.. _1. _ •• _ _ ( LI- ___ ~I-l~ _ _ ~_"I~I.; ......... Dn];,..;.:>" punl\1p
 504 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
not so much to eliminate or actively suppress these groups, but to deflect
their threat away from targets which are sacred to the capitalist class.
Victimization is permitted and even encouraged, as long as the victims
are members of an expendable class.
Two more or less discrete groupings are established through the op-
erations of official control. These groups are a product of different op-
erating assumptions and administrative orientations toward the deviant
population. On the other hand, there is social junk which, from the point
of view of the dominant class, is a costly yet relatively harmless burden
to society. The discreditability of social junk resides in the failure, in-
ability or refusal of this group to participate in the roles supportive of
capitalist society. Social junk is most likely to come to official attention
when informal resources have been exhausted or when the magnitude
of the problem becomes significant enough to create a basis for "public
concern." Since the threat presented by social junk is passive, growing
out of its inability to compete and its withdrawal from the prevailing so-
CIal order, controls are usually designed to regulate and contain rather
than eliminate and suppress the problem. Clear-cut examples of social
junk in modem capitalist societies might include the officially adminis-
tered aged, handicapped, mentally ill and mentally retarded.
In contrast to social junk, there is a category that can be roughly
described as social dynamite. The essential quality of deviance managed
~s social dynamite is its potential actively to call into question estab-
lished relationships, especially relations of production and domination.
Generally, therefore, social dynamite tends to be more youthful, alien-
ated and politically volatile than social junk. 'The control of social dy-
~amite is usually premised on an assumption that the problem is acute
In nature, requiring a rapid and focused expenditure of control re-
sources. This is in contrast to the handling of social junk frequently
based on a belief that the problem is chronic and best controlled
through broad reactive, rather than intensive and selective measures.
Correspondingly, social dynamite is normally processed through the
~egal system with its capacity for active intervention, while social junk
IS frequently (but not always)4 administered by the agencies and agents
of the therapeutic and welfare state.
Many varieties of deviant populations are alternatively or simulta-
neously dealt with as either social junk and/or social dynamite. The
welfare poor, homosexuals, alcoholics and "problem children" are
among the categories reflecting the equivocal nature of the control
pr?c~s.s and its .dependence on the political, economic and ideological
pnonties of deVIance production, The changing nature of these priorities
35. Steven Spitzer 505
and their implications for the future may be best understood by exam-
ining some of the tendencies of modern capitalist systems.
MONOPOLY CAPITAL AND DEVIANCE PRODUCTION
Marx viewed capitalism as a system constantly transforming itself. He
explained these changes in terms of certain tendencies. and contradic-
tions immanent within the capitalist mode of production. One of the
most important processes identified by Marx was the t~nd~ncy for .the
organic composition of capital to rise. S~ply stated, caplt~~ r:qurres
increased productivity to survive, and mcreased prodUCtiVIty IS only
made possible by raising the ratio of machines (dead labor) to men (liv-
ing labar). This tendency is self-reinforcing since, "the further machine
production advances, the higher becomes the orgaruc comp~s,~tlOn of
capital needed for an entrepreneur to secure the ~verage profIt (Mar:-
del, 1968: 163). This phenomenon helps us explam the course of capI-
talist development over the last century and the rise of monopoly capital
(Baran and Sweezy, 1966).
For the purposes of this analysis there are at least two m:portant
consequences of this process. First, the growth of constant capItal (~a­
chines and raw material) in the production process leads to an expansIOn
in the overall size of the relative surplus-population. The reasons for
this are obvious. The increasingly technological character of production
removes more and more laborers from productive activity for longer
periods of time. Thus, modern capitalist socie~es have ~een require~
progreSSively to reduce the number of productive years In a worker 5
life, defining both young and old as economically superfluous. Espe-
ciallyaffected are the unskilled who become more and more expend-
able as capital expands.
In addition to affecting the general size of the relative surplus-pop-
ulation, the rise of the organiC composition of capital leads to an in-
crease in the relative stagnancy of that population. In Marx's original
analysis he distinguished betvveen forms of superfluous population that
were floating and stagnant. The floating population consists of workers
who are "sometimes repelled, sometimes attracted again in greater
masses, the number of those employed increasing on the whole, al-
though in a constantly decreasing proportion to the scale of produc-
tion" (1967: 641). From the point of view of capitalIst accumulatIOn the
floating population offers the greatest economic flexibility and the fewest
problems of social control because they are most effectively tied to ~ap­
ital by the "nalurallaws of production." Unfortunately (for the capItal-
 506 Politics and ClaSS in the Study of Devhmce
ists ~t least), these ?"roups come to comprise a smaller and smaller pro-
portIOn of ~le rel~~ve s~lus-population. The increasing specialization
of producllVe activIty raISes the cost of reproducing laboT and heightens
the demand for highly skilled and "internally controlled" fonms of wage
labar (Gorz, 1970). The process through which unskilled workers are
alt:matively absorb~d and expelled from the labor force is thereby im-
palIe~, and the relative surplus-population comes to be made up of in-
creasmg numbers of persons who are more or less permanently
redundant. The boundaries betw-een the "useful" and the "useless are
more clearly delineated, while standards for social disqualification are
more liberally defined.
With the growth of monopoly capital, therefore, the relative Sur-
plus-population begins to take on the character of a population which is
~ore and more absolute. At the same time, the market becomes a less re-
~Iable means of disciplining these populations and the "invisible hand"
IS ~ore frequently replaced by the "visible fist." The implications for
deVIance production a:e twofold: (1) problem populations become grad-
~~ly more problematIc-both in terms of their size and their insensi-
tiVI~ to ,economic controls, and (2) the resources of the state need to be
app~ed ID greater proportion to protect capitalist relations of production
and Insure the accwnulation of capital.
STATE CAPITALISM AND NEW FORMS OF CONTROL
The major problems faced by monopoly capitalism are surplus popula-
tion and surplus production. Attempts to solve these problems have led
to the creation o~ the welfare/warfare state (Baran and Sweezy, 1966;
Marcuse, 1964; 0 Connor, 1973; Gross, 1970). The warfare state attacks
the proble~ of overconsumption by providing "wasteful" consumption
and protection for the expansion of foreign markets. The welfare state
helps a?sorb and. deflect social expenses engendered by a redundant
do:nestic. p~pulation. Accordingly, the economic development of capi-
talIst SOCIeties has come to depend increasingly on the support of the
state.
. The emer?~nce of state capitalism ru,d the growing interpenetra-
tIO~ of the political ~d ~conomic spheres have had a number of irnpli-
~ations for the orgaruzation and adminislTation of class rule. The most
lITlportant effect of these trends is that control functions are increasing-
ly t:ansferred from the orga~s of civil society to the organs of political
S~Cl:ty (the state).As the mamtenance of social hannony becomes more
dIffIcult and the contra.dictions of civil society intensify, the state is
forced to take a more dIrect ;:'in'; py~pn,";u", ...,,1"'; .... ~l..~ ~ ______ . .
35. Steven Spitzer 507
problem populations. This is especially true to the extent that the pri-
mary socializing institutions in capltalist sooehes (e.g. the fanuly and the
church) can nO longer be counted on to produce obedient and "produc-
tive" citizens.
Growing state intervention, especially intervention in the process of
socializatioTI, is likely to produce an emphasis on general-preventive (in-
tegrative), rather than selective-reactive (segregative) controls. Instead of
waiting for troublemakers to surface and managing them through seg-
fl
regative techniques, the state is likely to focus more ~d ~o:e on g.ener-
ally applied incentives and assimilative controls. This shift lS.consls.tent
with the growth of state capitalism because, on the one hand, It provides
mechanisms and policies to nip disruptive influences "in the bud," and,
on the other, it paves the way toward a more rational exploitation of
human capital. Regarding the latter point, it is clear that effective social
engineering depends more on socia~ u;vestment and anti:ipatory plan-
ning than coercive control, and SOCIeties ~ay more profitably manage
populations by viewing them as human capItal,.than as hu~~ was~e. ~
investment orientation has long been popular ill state socialist SOCieties
(Rimlinger, 1961, 1966), and its value, not surprisingly, has been in-
creasingly acknowledged by many capitalist states
S
.
In addition to the advantages of integrative controls, segregatIve
measures are likely to fall into disfavor for a more immediate reason-
they are relatively costly to formulate and apply. Because of its fiscal
problems the state must search for means of :conomizing :ontrol o~er­
ations without jeopardizing capitalist expansIOn. Segregattve handling,
especially institutionalization, has been useful in manipulating and pro-
viding a receptacle for social junk and socia~ dyn~mite. ~one~lelessl
the per capita cost of this type of management 15 typlCally qUlte hlgh. Be-
cause of its continuing reliance on segregative controls the state is faced
with a growing crisis-the overproduction of deviance. TIle magnitude
of the problem and the inherent weaknesses of available approaches
tend to limit the alternatives, but among those which are likely to be fa-
vored in the future are:
1. NonllnlizntioJl. Perhaps the most expedient response to the over-
production of deviance is the normalization of populat~ons traditio~al­
ly managed as deviant. Normalization occurs when devlance process~g
is reduced in scope without supplying specific alternatives, and certam
segments of the problem population are "swept under the r~g.1I To be
successful this strategy requires the creation of invisible deVIants who
can be easily absorbed into society and disappear from view. .
A current example of this approach is found in the decarceratlOn
_. _¥. __ . __ ~ •.• 1.:_1.. 1.._~ _...,.-1 •• ..., ..... ..l ~I ... ..., ..." ...... hnr,-,f: inn1"~"'c in nricnn<; n~np.
 508 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
1972) and mental hospitals (NIMH, 1970) over the last fifteen years. By
curtailing commitments and increasing turn-over rates the state is able
to mnit the scale and increase the efficiency of institutionalization. If,
however, direct release is likely to focus too much attention on the short-
comings of the state a number of intermediate solutions can be adopted.
These include subsidies for private control arrangements (e.g. foster
homes, old age homes) and decentralized control facilities (e.g. com-
munity treabnent centers, halfway houses). In both cases, the fiscal bur-
den of the state is reduced while the dangers of complete normalization
are avoided.
2. Conversion. To a certain extent the expenses generated by prob-
lem and deviant populations can be offset by encouraging their direct
participation in the process of control. Potential troublemakers can be re-
cruited as policemen, social workers and attendants, while confirmed
deviants can be "rehabilitated" by becoming counselors, psychiatric
aides and parole officers. In other words, if a large number of the con-
trolled can be converted into a first line of defense, threats to the system
of class rule can be transformed into resources for its support. 6
3. C01ltainment. One means of responding to threatening popula-
tions without individualized manipulation is through a policy of con-
tainment or compartmentalization. This policy involves the geographic
segregation of large populations and the use of formal and informal
sanctions to circumscribe the challenges that they present. Instead of
classifying and handling problem populations in terms of the specific ex-
penses that they create, these groups are loosely administered as a ho-
mogeneous class who can be ignored or managed passively as long as
they remain in their place.
~trateg.ies of containment have always flourished where social seg-
~g~tion :XI~ts, but they have become especially favored in modern cap-
Italist SOCIeties. One reason for this is their compatibility -with patterns of
residential segregation, ghettoization, and internal colonialism (Blauner,
1969).
4.. Support of CTl11lrnal Elltelprzse. Ano!:her way tile overproduction
of devIance may be eased is by granting greater power and influence to
organized crime. Although predatory CrIminal enterpnse is asswned to
stand in opposition to the goals of tile state and the capitalist class, it per-
forms valuable and unique functions in the service of class rule (McIn-
tosh, 1973). By creating a parallel opportunity structure, organized crime
provides a means of support for groups who might othenvise become a
burden on the state. The activities of organized crime are also impor-
t~nt in the pacification of problem populations. Organized crime pro-
VIdes goods and services which ease the hardships and deflect the
energies of the underclass. In tilis rnlp HlP J'rrimp in.411<'h'"H" ... " .. (~_~ __
35. Steven Spilzer 509
cooling-out function and offers a control resource which might other-
wise not exist. Moreover, insofar as criminal enterprise attempts to re-
duce uncertainty and risk in its operations, it aids the state in the
maintenance of public order. This is particularly true to the extent !:hat
the rationalization of criminal activity reduces the collateral costs (i.e. vi-
olence) associated with predatory crime (Schelling, 1967).
CONCLUSION
A Marxian theory of deviance and control must overcome the weak-
nesses of both conventional interpretations and narrow critical models.
It must offer a means of studying deviance which fully exploits the crit-
ical potential of Marxist scholarship. More than "demystifying" The
analysis of deviance, such a theory must suggest directions and offer
insights which can be utilized in the direct construction of critical theo-
ry. Although the discussion has been informed by concepts and evi-
dence drawn from a range of Marxist studies, it has been more of a
sensitizing essay than a substantive analysis. The further development
of the theory must await the accumulation of evidence to refine our un-
derstanding of the relationships and tendencies explored. When this ev-
idence is developed the contributions of Marxist thought can be more
meaningfully applied to an understanding of deviance, class conflict
and social con troL
NOTES
1. For example, Turk (1969) defines deviance primarily in terms of the social
position and relative power of various social groups.
2. To the extent that a group (e.g. homosexuals) blatantly and systematically
challenges the validity of the bourgeois family it is likely to become part
of the problem population. The family is essential to capitalist socidy as a
unit for consumption, socialization and the reprodudion of the SOCially
necessary labor force (cf. Frankford and Snitow, 1972; Secombe, 1973;
Zaretsky, 1973).
3. O'Connor (1973) discusses this problem in terms of the crisis faced by the
capitalist state in maintaining conditions for profitable accumulation and
social harmony.
4. It has been estimated, for instance, that 1/3 of all arrests in America arc
for the offense of publiC drunkenness. Most of these apparently involve
"sick" and destitute "skid row alcoholics" (I..,lorris and Hatvkins, 1969).
5. Despite the general tendencies of state capitalism, its internal ideological
rnnir.1niriinn<; m.1V .1rh 1.1 !1 " f n1 <:tr"h> !'hp ",..jnnf-;nn nE "n ;nllodITIPnt "l'"l_
510 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance 35. Steven Spitzer 511

proach. For example, in discussing social welfare policy Rimlinger (1966:
571) concludes that "in a COlU1try like the United States, which has a
strong individualistic heritage, the idea is still alive that any kind of social
protection has adverse productivity effects. A country like the Soviet
Union, with a centrally planned economy and a collectivist ideology, is
likely to make an earlier and morc deliberate use of health and welfare
programs for purposes of influencing productivity and developing man-
power."
6. In his analysis of the lumpenproletariat Marx (1964) clearly recognized
how the underdass could be manipulated as a "bribed tool of reactionary
intrigue.
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er, Paul Violas, and loel Spring (eds.), Roots of Crisis: American Edu-
cation in the Twentieth Century. Chicago; Rand McNally.
Turk, Austin T.
1969 Criminality the Legal Order. Chicago: Rand McNally and Company.
Zaretsky, EH
1973 "Capitalism, the family and personal life: parts 1 & 2:' Socialist Rev-
olution Uanuary-April/May-June): 69-126, 19-70.
36. Robert F. Meier 513
Analysis and Critique
36 The New Criminology: Continuity in
Criminological Theory
ROBERT F. MEIER
In a recent essay, Francis Alien warned that "modem criminology is in
danger of being enslaved by its O'WI1 emancipation. "1 Professor ~en's
despairing prognosis was occasioned by what he took to be unsatis~ac­
tory developments in the manner in which criminologists were sel:ctmg
and approaching their work. The emancipation AlIen referred to 15 that
which had tied criminology to behavioral considerations; the enslave-
ment is that which presently binds a new version of criminology to po-
litical considerations.
The search for political meanings and motives in the concept of
crime and criminal behavior, which Professor AlIen deplores, is thought
by many to be a recent criminological development. Variously c~l~ed
"critical," "radical"or "the new criminology," the approach expliCItly
rejects mOre established paradigms, which are claimed to be incompat-
ible with an acceptable social and humanistic view of crime and it: con-
trol. l There is, however, more to the new criminology than the sunple
assertion that crime is a political phenomenon, for such a statement
would merely be tautological. Laws obviously are passed by political
bodies, and these bodies are largely committed to the prevailing social
system. This is the case regardless of the economic system within which
the law-passing body operates. 3 . .. ..'
The new criminology seems to be offering the clisapline a dIstinctive
conceptual framework within which to conduct its work. I will argue
here, however, that rather than presenting criminology with a novel the-
oretical alternative, the new criminology has taken some of the disci-
pline's more established notions and rephrased them in politi~al terms.
Specifically, one finds in the new criminology elements of a SOCIal patho-
logical view, extensions of early University of Chicago Criminology, an
uneasy reliance on functionalism, and an abiding faith in labeling theo-
ry and its applications.
The new criminology came forward incrementally; there was never
a time when there was not a new criminology, and then a time when
there was. The gradual development of the new criminology has cul-
Reprinted by special permission of Northwestern University School of Law, !ollrllnJ of
 514 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
minated in recent years in the establishment of a specialized journal, a
cadre of identifiable members and relatively clear boundaries of study.
Gresham Sykes has claimed that the "radical" criminology does in
fact warrant the label "new" since it is comprised of more than a series
of ideas differing only in emphasis fTom conventional criminology. Sykes
maintains that
... it does not appear that this new viewpoint in criminology simply
grew out of existing ideas in the field in some ... automatic process
where pure logic breeds Wlcontaminated by' the concernS and passions
~f the Lime~ .. Nor does it appear that a flood of new data burst upon the
fIeld, requmng a ne\\' theoretical synthesis:!
Sykes believes that the advent of a new criminology can only be
lU1derstood as the result of the sociohistorical forces which he believes
wer~ at work in ~1e 1960's. 111ese include: (1) an increased cynicism con-
cermng the mol1ves ~f tl:os~ in power, the credibility of official pro-
nOlU1cements and th: mstitutlOn of government itself; (2) the growth of
a cOlU1terculture wluch began to alter popular images of deviance and
tak~ more ~keptical stances toward traditional bases of authority; and (3)
an ~ncreasmg politicalization of certain groups in American society
w~1l~h h~d accumulated e~ough power to dispute institutionalized dis-
cnmmahon and coercion.~
VVhile this list may emunerate aspects of the external environment in
which the. ne:". criminology arose, it does not account fully for its
growth. SClentific paradigmatic shifts do not come about as a function of
such mechanisms alone; they are also tied to internal intellectual devel-
opments in a discipline. 6 VVhile the time must be "ripe" for the growth
~d eventual acceptance of intellectual alternatives, 50 too must be the
mtellectual climate in which practitioners of a discipline operate.
The new criminology's challenge to traditional perspectives is best
ur:derstood by reference to the general development of competing the-
or.les. Although there is some dispute about the matter, SOciologists of
sClen~e generally h~ve co~e to believe that the acceptance of a new per-
specti~e or th~ory IS heaVIly dependent on older views being unable to
deal WIth crUCIal problems, although this inability does not seem to de-
pend on the availability of empirical evidence which runs counter to
the older theory. In this sense, theoretical growth of science is not cu-
mul,;tive, but a,~raits. t~1e ascension of theoretical alternatives to replace
the. damaged, unfIrushed theories. External forces (such as those de-
sC~l~ed by ~ykes) might under such conditions seem to play a deter-
u:
rrunmg ~·ol: the acceptance of the new alternative by certain members
~f the disc~pl~~. But thfs. explanation overlooks the importance of
~;~at ~r d.l~:lpline~sp:~lfic, factors which are experienced by scholars in
36. Robert F. Meier 515
ce tance of a new U1eory occurs independent of empirical support, cer-
?
t am
crisis situations present in a discipline portend the search for new
theoretical views which will present praclitioners wi tl·1 a cliff. ·ere~t arr~y
of intellectual puzzles and justifications for their work, and which WIll
point to the direction of subsequent research.
THE NEW CRIMINOLOGY
It is necessary to be cautious when writing about the new criminology.
While the new criminologists ostensibly encourage open dialogues con-
cerning the issues they raise,s they appear to be generally suspicious of
evaluative statements of their work, and are apt to view such attempts as
intellectual distractions. As one leading spokesman for the new crimi-
nology has put it:
We should welcome debates which allow LIS to publicize and discuss
our perspective, but al the same time, must avoid c~optation.and c?n-
centrMe on extending and systematizing an authentically radICal cnm-
inology.'!
Taking the risk, I will try to summarize some main ideas of the new
criminology. Since the purpose of this essay is not essentially evalua-
live,lO no attempt will be made to develop these ideas or to provide the
l1
kind of documentation offered by the new crirninologists.
Like Sykes,12 I find the new criminology to be centered around a
view of a society dominated by an elite which uses the criminal law as a
means of meeting and controlling certain threats to the elite's power
and position. By employing the legal apparatus to define acceptable
standards of conduct and to repress that behavior (and those persons).
who violate such standards, the powerful are able to maintain their priv-
ileged position.l 3 The powerful are thus seen as a self-interested lot who
manipulate the legal structure to their advantage. 1'l The maximization of
self-gain is the predominant motive guiding most, if not all, elite be-
havior in this syste}TI of social, political, and economic arrangements.
The meaning of crime in the new criminology is less to be found in
the willful violation of legal statutes than in the conscious determination
of standards which will serve the materialistic interests of those who
are able to participate in the legal-definition process. ~riminal behavior
becomes defined as a function of social class position. \:J TIle law of theft,
for example, is said to have been established by those in 'Power who
m- have more to lose from thievery. TI1e law is almost invariably broken
by persons in the more powerless lower classes who experience greater
 516 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
The new criminology perceives crime as an immutable featu
capitalist society and its system of political arrangements which ~ ~_
antee the position of an exploiting elite. "To locate the study of . at
.t1. b crIme
WI un a mader quest for social justice demands that one underst d
the relation~hi~ be~e~n ~ime. and the maintenance of privilege. "16 ~e
system of crurunaljustice 15 believed to be essentially coercive. The elite
n~e ~ess on ~U.~orily than on power. TIle powerless do not accept most
cnmmal defuutions on the basis of perceived legitimacy, but rather con-
£o~ out of fear of force which the elite can bring to bear on deviance.
ThIs force,. embodied by the police, CDurts, and correctional systems,
serves the mterests of the powerful by enforcing their rules. 17 Since sys-
tem functionaries are recruited largely from the powerless classes th
' e
e li te must coopt them into their ideology through the inculcation of a
"false consciousness."
The new criminology implies that if the elite did not control the
criminal definition-process, a radical restructuring of the criminal code
w?u~d result. This view is a misinterpretation, however, since the new
cnn~n.ologists do not call for the decriminalization of offenses such as
honuclde, robbery and rape, about which there is substantial consen-
sus reg~rding their seriousness and the necessity for control. Nor do
they claIm. that a socialist economic system would obviate these acts.
The confusIon that has been generated in this regard seems to stem from
th,e new criminology's tendency to cite with approval research on the
elite-~upported origins of non-consensual crimes,18 such as vagrancy,
prostitut~on and the use of certain drugs. I9 It is implied that since all
laws ,denve from similar political processes, the prime mover for all
laws IS some powerful elite. In the process the distinction is blurred be-
tween la~s which seem to protect the interests of most persons (con-
sensual cnmes) and those laws which protect the interests of a smaller
segment of society (non-consensual crimes).
" In s~ary form, the tasks of the new criminology have been: (I) to
deo:ystify cnmmallaw, both in its origins and applications, since to do
s? will uncover the interests of the powerful; (2) to conduct studies of so-
CIal co.n~rol a.gencies,. ~ur:aucracies, and mass media to expose their
c,omphcl~ WIth an elitIst Ideology; (3) to propose new criminal defini-
tIo~s w~ch, c.o~ecting the imbalance created by the elite's influence on
legISlation, will mclude violations of certain inherent rights; and (4) to
put th~ new criminology'stheory into practice (termed "praxis") by at-
tempting to alter the eXlstmg econOIruc and political arrangements of
capItalism, which are believed to give rise to the present situation.
To examine the genesis of these ideas, I will concentrate on the main
perspectives
_____
in criminology,
"rI __ U __ - - · , .,'
roughly
."
in order of their historical emer-
36, Robert F. Meier 517
f criminology in this country. It was followed by the "Chicago school of
criminology," t11en by "functionalism." The "Iabeling perspective" is
the most recent of the major criminological approaches. The new crim-
inology has bon-owed selectively from each of these positions in a syn-
ergistic manner.
SOCIAL.pATHOLOGY
111e social pathology approach to social problems was based on an anal-
ogy which likened society to the functioning of a biological organism.
Social problems were those conditions which interfered with the "nor-
mal" (i.e., "desirable") workings of sOciety.2o Problems such as poverty,
mental illness, prostitution, and crime were condeI1U1ed because "every-
one knew" them to be wrong. The social pathological view, which came
to prominence in the early years of this century, was congruent vvith the
personal ideologies of its scholar-advocates. 21 The social pathologists
were recruited largely from small midwestern communities and were
imbued with a sense of the importance of religion, as well as a distrust
of urban life. This "sacred provincialism" resulted in a moralistic ap-
proach which not only called attention to the existence of the "evil" of
crime, but also provided the element of moral censure requisite to speed
the correction of criminal behavior.
Though the new criminologists overtly reject the social pathological
approach to crime, they have retained a number of its major features.
The social pathologists were concerned with the individual pathology of
criminals; the new criminologists deal with the politicnZ pathology of capi-
talism. In the new criminology, it is no longer the individual criminal
who is considered pathological (nor is the criminal's illegal behavior
necessarily considered pathological). It is rather the social and political
system which is said to maintain the conditions which produce the crim-
inal and his behavior. TIle concept of pathology is thus transferred from
the actions of a powerless criminal to the behavior of a powerful elite,
Consequently, the notion of pathology is aversive to the new criminol-
ogists not on principle, but on the basis of its misplaced application;
simply put, the wrong sources have received the pathology label.
The theoretical problem that this class emphasis creates for the new
criminology is often unreCOgnized but is nevertheless substantial. The lo-
cation of "causes" of his behavior and the amount of influence ascribed
to those causes have implications for the image of the deviant. If de-
viance is said to be produced by forces external to the individual, he is
personally less responsible for his actions. In the new criminology, the
-. ___ ..:1 "_~, •• ,~_1", ...... " •· .........."''''onh:: n"t nnlu:,! npr<:nn'<: in::lhilitv to oarticioate
518 Politics and Class in the Shldy of Deviance
effectively in political and economic decisions which might affect his
life, but is also an appropriate adjective to describe his lack of responsi-
bility for his own behavior. It is in this sense that the new criminolo-
gists seem to subscribe to what Hollander 22 has termed "selective
determinism." While the actions of the mugger are deemed to be deter-
mined, those of the price fixer are not; while the actions of the murder-
er are the result of a repressive society,2J the actions of the corrupt
politician are not.
There is a related view, which might be termed "socialist utopian vi-
sion/' which holds that once people have enough of the basics, such as
the right kind of work and attractive opportunities for living and learn-
ing, there will be no materialism and hence no crime. While there may
be some measure of truth in this claim, it is not self-evident and it has
not been empirically demonstrated.
Declaring the actions of the powerless to be attributable to morality
and those of the powerful attributable to materialism suggests a duali-
ty which can be resolved only by making materialism a function of
power. If self-interest is defined in terms of power, then only the pow-
erful can act from this motive. In this manner, the new criminologists in-
vert the premise of the social pathologists. The pathologists claimed
moral eminence only for the elite, whose forward vision and proficien-
cy were necessary for a smoothly running, progressive society. The pow-
erful were the moral, politicat and economic leaders, while the
powerless attempted to debase the lofty intents of the elite.
The selection of those persons, behaviors, and conditions consid-
ered pathological was made by the pathologists on moralistic grounds
bolstered by elements of social Da.rvvinism. The content of the new crim-
inology is also ruled by moral, rather than scientific, bases. "Liberal"
criminology has used the criminal law to define its boundaries: acts de-
fined in the statutes have formed the basis for criminological inquiry.
The new criminologists reject such a notion and call for the criminal-
ization (or, at least, the study) of acts which are not presently criminal in
a strict legalistic sense. Racism, sexism, imperialism and other forms of
repression have been added to the new criminologists' agenda. 2" It is
argued that the discipline of criminology should be humanistically ori-
ented; that is, that criminology should serve the powerless by studying
conditions which inhibit or destroy the free expression of uniquely
human rights and values. New Criminologists do not deny that the prob-
lems they choose to study are morally detennined; indeed, they pro-
claim that problem selection based on any other criterion has never
existed,25 They maintain that they are merely being more candid about
exposing their values than traditional criminologists, who often hide
hpnp<tth rl ':;:P::I of Tihpr::ll rhp~r.rir In ~hio;: ur:lV ~hp nplM ........ irn;nl""\I1""\ ...... ,
36. Roberi' F. fvfeier 519
than eschewing pathology, openly embraces it. What has changed are
those conditions considered pathological, rather than the process by
which such an identification is made.
CHICAGO CRIMINOLOGY
Chicago sociology26 moved the concept of pathology from the individ-
ual to the group level; it was no longer persons who were patllOlogical
but c0111munities (or, more precisely, "natural areas") that were disorga-
nized, This disorganization was the result of a conflict of conduct norms
among residents which produced ambiguous or contradictory standards
of behavior. The concept of social disorganization further shed its patho-
logical connotation in the work of Edwin H. Sutherland who talked of
"differential social organization" in his general theory of crime.
Marx stressed the notion of political conflict. The fad that Marx has
little to say about crime and law could mean either the he had scant in-
terest in the subject, or that he had little insight into how this particular
behavior related to the political conflict he described. The new crimi-
nology's use of the term "conflict" with respect to criminal behavior ap-
pears to derive from the Chicago tradition, rather than from Marx. That
the proletariat and the bourgeoisie are in conflict over political power
does not automatically lead to the conclusion that the powerful "cre-
ate" crime, even though they may indeed control the means which pro-
duce definitions of crime, And even if that conclusion were
demonstrated to be correct, it would not necessarily accOlmt for the
powerless group behaving more criminally than the powerful unless
crime were defined in terms of power, which would make this true by
definition.
The Chicago theorists specified the relationship between crime and
conflict, characterizing conflict in non political terms. Their theories,
however, never reached the societallevel of generalizationY What dis-
tinguishes the new criminology from previous structural theories is its
emphasis on the relationship between political and economic factors on
the one hand, and social and legal factors on the other. The roots of such
a view can be traced to the work of WiUem Banger. 28 The new crimi-
nologists pay an intellectual debt to Banger?! but find more contempo-
rary meaning in the writings of prison inmates, revolutionaries, and
other political dissidents such as George Jackson, Angela Davis, pre-
1975 Eldridge Cleaver, Franz Fanon, Malcolm X and Bobby Seale.
Firsthand documentation of the repressive nature of the capitalist so-
ciety has come to be empirically valued in the new criminology. But the
r:l~hCl" llO;:P [1f <'::11 ... h rl[1"""rnon~::tr;l""\-n ;~ nrtf. ... ;n,-,-"l~~ J-~ J-L._ ._ __ •. :_:~ .... lrtrY"· rho
 520 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Chicago theorists found substantial meaning for their work in similar
kinds of reports. 3D Indeed, the utility of such accounts for both the Chica-
go theorists and the new criminologists is remarkably similar. Both are
interested in the process whereby a person comes to commit a criminal
act. What has changed is the location of the causes of behavior. One
wonders whether the new criminologists would find a political meaning
in Shaw's jackroller, and whether Sutherland would have been able to
locate aspects of differential association in the life of Malcolm X.
The new criminology, as I have indicated, calls for a critical reap-
praisal of legalistic or state definitions of crime. Most of what is present-
ly against the law, it is believed, probably should be outlawed, but there
also is much that is neglected in these provisions. The most systematic
statement of this issue is by the Schwendingers,31 who call for a redefi-
nition of the term "criminal" to include those conditions which violate
basic human rights and potentials. This call for criminalizing certain
acts of governments and corporations, however, does not derive direct-
Iy from the new criminology, which has merely broadened and made
more political one of the more enduring debates in criminology.
That the new criminology "discovered" the political nature of law is
untrue, and may be an example of what Sorokin has called "intellectu-
al amnesia."32 In 1933, for instance, the Bureau of Social Hygiene, under
the auspices of the Social Science Research CoUncil, published a report
dealing with the feasibility of establishing an institute of criminology.
This document, known as the Michael and Adler Report,33 set about to
review what was then known about crime and to make recommenda-
tions concerning the possibility of an institute from which public policy
planning might be made. The report noted that it was necessary for the
law to keep pace with changing conditions: "It appears to be desirable
that the behavior content of the criminal law should keep abreast of
changes in behavior patterns or, at least, that it should not lag too far be-
hind."" Michael and Adler also note that "It is highiy questionable that
'sociology' and what is called 'political science' are independent of each
other."35
A few years later, Thorsten Sellin, under the auspices of the Social
Science Research Council, set out to articulate some research directions
for criminology." Sellin called for a redefinition of the traditional para-
meters of criminological inquiry and maintained that focusing on the
violations of conduct norms would provide theoretically better sub-
stance for criminology. Sutherland later entered this arena in defense of
his then newly-minted concept of white-collar crime. Anticipating ad-
verse reactions from those who believed that the criminal law was the
only basis for the appellation "criminal," Sutherland defended his po-
36. Robert F. Meier 521
sition against the legalist, Paul Tappan, in an exchange that anticipates
much of the Schwendingers' work of a generation later.37
FUNCTIONALISM
That the new criminology should be "functionalist" is an outgrowth of
the problems it deals with and the general approach taken toward their
solution. Functional analysis, identified with persons whose ideas on
crime are deemed to be theoretically and politically conservative, is a
tec1mique which explores the underlying dimensions of problems, look-
ing for latent functions or features which have manifest dysfunctions.
Merton's3B analysis of political machines, Bell's39 study of organized
crime, and Davis's"o investigation of prostitution all contain a similar
theme: that while these problems are manifestly dysfunctional for soci-
ety, they all exhibit latent functions which fuel and account for their ex-
istence. The new criminology, too, uses this style of research when
examining the nature of crime and the functions of the criminal law. Its
concentration on the society's elite foreshadows the conclusion that
crime is manifestly functional for the elite, allowing them to use force to
maintain their power, and latently dysfunctional in fomenting prole-
tariat resentment and conflict.
Robert Merton is probably the most well-known functionalist. Mer-
ton and the new criminologists both stress social class position as a de-
terminant of criminality. Merton notes that a denial of access to certain
cultural goals and the ensuing frustration that this engenders is not ran-
domly distributed, but is concentrated in the lower classes:!! While Mer-
ton views the location of crime in the lower classes as problematic and in
need of explanation, the new criminology sees it as natural and politi-
cally inevitable. This does not mean that official estimates are necessar-
ily accurate indicators of criminal behavior (although such a position is
not entirely incompatible with the new criminology), but rather that
there is a lack of correspondence between the manifest and latent func-
tions of the figures. Rather than informing us about the "correct" distri-
bution of criminal behavior, official crime statistics covertly instnIct us in
the actions of agencies of social control, the class-based definition of
crime, and the image of what is to be considered criminaL 'The political
nature of criminal statistics is revealed only by understanding their la-
tent functions.
If official records of crime are suspect, so too are the motivations of
those who construct those records-the agents of social control.42 On
the manifest level their motivations are objective: to document viola-
 522 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
tions of the normative demands of criminal law. On the latent level,
how~ver, we find that the criminal justice system operates against the
best mterests of the poor and the powerless because it intends to do 50:43
This process of uncovering politically latent meanings is what is meant
by "demystifying" the criminal law; that is, exposing the latent mean-
ings and intentions in capitalist society. Once we are able to see below
the, po,:,,",erful sy~tem of privilege maintenance, the new criminology
mamtams, we will uncover the real political plan.
. ~e ne,: c.riminolo~ and Me~ton also share a ~ommon image of a
cnmmal. WIthin Merton 5 perspective, the offender IS one who has been
unable to compete equitably with others who are better placed in society.
But Merton's portrait of the criminal is only half drawn. We are able to
glimpse something of the total picture in the "decision" of the criminal
to "innovate" (as Merton defines it), but we are presented with the be-
havior rather than the person. Thus, we are told of the structural an-
tecedents (culturally prescribed goals and unavailable means), the
resulting personal frustration this generates, and the behavioral out-
come (innovation); we are given nothing of the deviant himself, aside
from his probable lower class status.
The new criminology presents a similarly incomplete picture of the
offe~der. It locates a set of structural antecedents (capitalism), the re-
sulting personal (i.e., political) frustration this arouses, and the behav-
i~ral ~utcome ~a political act, defined by the elite as crime). We are given
lIttle mformation about the deviant himself aside from his lower class
position. If Merton gives us a glinuner of a frustrated person acting out
of the same motivations for success as everyone else, the new criminol-
ogy presents a more romantic, and at times heroic, image of the offend-
er. In the new criminology, offenders seem like Robin Hoods. Merton
and the new criminologists agree on one thing: Merton's materialisti-
cally frust:ated innovators and the new criminology's politically defiant
freedom fIghters would act differently given a choice in the social struc-
tUre. These criminals are driven to their crimes, not attracted by them.
POLITICS AND LABELING
In one of the most widely cited works in the SOciology of deviance,
Howard S. Becker44 defines deviance relativistically: no behavior is in-
herently deviant since deviance is not a quality of an act, but the re-
sponse of others to that act. "The deviant is one to whom the label has
successfully been applied; deviant behavior is behavior that people so
label."45 Th.e nature-of ~e reaction is a function of social groups who
created deVIance bv making rules whose infraction con!=:tihlh",,- rlpvi::1nrp
36. Robert F. Meier 523
and who respond in terms of the rules they have created46 This reaction
is not random, but rather is patterned and purposely given only to cer-
tain kinds of acts. This is why it is essential to return to the rule creation
process to see whose rules are being broken. Becker informs us that
... people are in fact always forcillg their rules on others, applying them
more or less against the will and without the consent of those others ....
Differences in the ability to make rules and apply them to other people
are essentially power differentials (either legal or extralegal):17
Such rules aTe said to be the "object of conflict and disagreement,
part of the political process of sodety."48 Seeker identifies certain groups
which are particularly involved in creation of deviance, and calls the
members "moral entrepreneurs."·19
In addition to his emphasis on rule creation, Seeker stresses the im-
portance of the administration of those rules. Labeling theory shows
that not only is rule-making concentrated in the hands of select groups,
but that the application of criminal labels is not a random phenome-
non. Since rules are not made to apply to all equally (they prohibit be-
havior that is largely indigenous to the lower classes), it is not surprising
that tile application of the law should follow social class lines. 50
Richard Ericson,Sl writing on the English new criminologists, has
observed that the new criminology has been defined in terms of what it
is not, rather than what it is. 52 Ericson also notes the new criminology
makes extensive use of labeling theory not only to orient members in-
tellectually, but also to utilize the "blaming quality" labeling theory pro-
vides. This quality arises from the configuration of "causes" of deviance
that labeling theory alleges. As Becker and Horowitz have stated:
If sociology allows for a choice on the part of human actors, then it
can blame, by the way it assigns causes, any of the people involved
since they could have chosen not to do what they did. This has conse-
quences for the political character of sociological analysis. 53.
The deviant in labeling theory is one whose behavior, at least in its
secondary aspects, has been determined by the reactions of others. If he
is not to blame for this condition, the audience which reacted to his be-
havior and thus perpehlated his deviance is much less innocent.
The political nahlre of the new criminology, summarized in the tenn
"praxis" is, of course, inescapable. In the dual role of scholar and ac-
tivist, the new criminologists have set for themselves an ideal of prac-
ticing what they preach. The new criminology offers not only a new
theoretical alternative to traditional criminology, but also seeks to pro-
vide scientific legitimacy to socialist political activism. Critics of the new
criminology have charged that it is little more than "rhetoric." This
_1-.~_~~':~ ~ ___ c ___ .J __ 1L _ . ..!L1~ l~ __ '- ___ ~ _ _ : .... "L.._~l_ ~_J. ..... J."L.. ........ ;~ .... "'Th",
 524 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
problem of 'rhetoric' is ... bothersome because the cry of 'too much
rhetoric' itself can be a rhetorical device that obscures the real issues
posed .... "54
The rhetorical charge is a serious one, however, and cannot be dis-
missed in so cavalier a fashion. If the new criminology's claims to truth
are based on nothing more than a particular set of values and moral po-
sitions, resolution of differences with opponents may not be possible.
Acceptance of the new criminology can then take place only in like-
minded persons, who do not perceive a general theoretical alternative.
The new criminologists, not denying the rhetorical nature of their schol-
arship, indicate that this is the major reason why academic criminology
has been unreceptive to their ideas and why some new criminologists
have been denied university tenure. As one group of new criminolo-
gists points out: "To say that socialists are necessarily un-scientific is
the form that red-baiting takes in the university."55
Thus, tenure problems encountered by hvo well-known criminolo-
gists have resulted, say the new criminologists, from their particular
political views rather than the quality of their scholarship.
Is this marriage of scholarship and political activism unique to the
new criminology? It would appear not. TIle issue was identified and
discussed prior to the present advent of the new crintinology, particu-
larly in the works of C. Wright Mills,56 Robert Lynd,57 Howard Beek-
er,58 and Alvin Goulclner,59 all of whom advocated vocationally relevant
scholarship. While these persons may be thought of as sympathetic in-
tellectually to the new criminology, their writings cannot be construed as
being part of the new criminology.
The overlap with labeling theory can be sununarized as follows: in
both the new criminology and labeling theory one sees concern with
(1) the creation and function of rules; (2) the enforcement of rules (laws)
for the benefit of the rule makers; (3) the effect of the application of rules
in the form of social control for individuals; and (4) the politicalization
of deviants who see through the guise of the law to the true nature of
their own repression.
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS
In addition to providing a valuable framework within which to study
rule maldng and rule application, labeling theory contributed to the
new criminology the idea that political considerations could be fused
to "scientific" information so that knowledge and politics constituted
hvo aspects of the same thing. The foundations of praxis and the concern
with nnWPf <1nn _<:nrlphr lp::.n inpvit::'hhr tn rnn.;:inpr::lHnn.;: nf th", ....ro:d-.;nn
36" Robert F. Meier 525
and application of rules. Because labeling theory, for one reason or an-
other, concentrated on the consequences of the application of rules, the
way was cleared for the new criminology to focus on rulemaking as a
substantive study area.
Criminology's interest in labeling theory also arises, in some mea-
sure, from the theory's ability to generate testable propositions which are
derived from an intuitively appealing but not self-evident irony: social
control efforts contain within them the basis for their own justification.
The new criminology also begins with an irony, but one derived
from functionalism. Functionalism's irony is that while problems have
manifest dysfunctions, they also have latent functions, and these latent
functions help explain the persistence of those problems. The new crim-
inology extends this idea, but with a hvist. The new criminology (1)
performs the functional analysis not for society "as a whole, but only for
the elite of that society, and (2) reverses the characterization of mani-
fest and latent contributions. What is functional and dysfunctional large-
ly depends on the amount of power one possesses. The new criminology
pays little attention to the practical functions and dysfunctions of crime,
especially for the powerless who have to bear the brunt of victimiza-
tion and repressive measures.
The Chicago school was U,e first to legitimize (1) the explanatory
concept of conflict (although it was defined slightly differently here),
and (2) the use of first-person accounts of crime and empirical evidence
in support of theoretical positions. Within the work of the Chicago
school took place the beginnings of discussions about the criminal law
and its content and scope.
The pathologists identified the genesis of social problems as stem-
ming from personal and group inadequacies. The deviant was immoral
and his behavior in need of correction. The new criminology, in its return
to the pathological position, finds in the actions of the elite a different lo-
cation for what is considered pathological. But if the pathologists' ap-
proach to crime was dictated by the sacred, the new criminologists
employ secular (political) criteria for their determination. The patho-
logical stance is maintained; it is only that new villains are identified.
The stuff of the new criminology is deeply rooted in criminologi-
cal theory. This is neither praiseworthy, nor an indictment, since the util-
ity of criminological theory is founded on other criteria. The
developments in criminology and, indeed, in all other disciplines, are
rarely wholly creative. The synergistic goal of the new criminology may
be nothing more than spirited eclecticism with fancy (and presently
fashionable) political terms.
H much of the history of criminological theory in the United States
('::In hp <:;ppn ;l<:::. rp::.rnrm to n::lthnlnO\r 60 (::.nn thrlt fP-action has been in-
 526 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
creasing in recent years),61 the new criminology is likely to draw sharp
criticism. Francis Allen'5 fear, noted at the outset of this article, is neither
a conservative lament nor misplaced antagonism. If criminology is in-
deed in danger of being enslaved by its own emancipation, it would
appear its captive will be in the form of an old, rather than a new, jailer.
NOTES
1. F. Alien, Tlte Crimes of Politics 13 (1974).
2. 1. Taylar, P. WaIton, and J. Young, The New CrilltillologzJ: For a Social TIJeonj
DJ Deviance (1973).
3. E. Van den Haag, "No Excuses for Crime," 423 AHnals!37 (1976).
4. G. Sykes, "The Rise of Critical Criminology," 65 JOHnlal of CrimilJal Law
and CriminoiogJj 206, 211 (1974).
5. See also Gibbons and Garabedian, "Conservative, Liberal and Radical
Criminology: Some Trends and Observations," in Tile Criminologist:
Crime and the Crimillal51 (C Reasons, ed., 1974): Reasons, "The Politiciz-
ing of Crime, the Criminal and the Criminologist," 64 JOllmal of Criminal
Law mId CrimillologJj 471 (1973).
6. T. Kuhn, The Structllre Of Scientific Revolllb'0I1S (1962).
7. Kuhn, supm note 6, at 81; M. Polyani, Personal Knowledge 292 (1958); l.
Lakatos, "Falsification and the Methodology of Scientific Research Pro-
grammes," Criticism and tile Growth of Knowledge 100-101 (l. Lakatos and
A. Musgrave, eds., 1970).
8. The editorial statement contained in the new criminology'S journal fol-
lows the traditional format for such declarations: "Crime and Socinl Justice
welcomes contributions to all sections of the journaL" 4 Crime and Social
Jllstice 72 (1975).
9. Platt, "Prospects for a Radical Criminology in the United States," 1Crime
and Social Justice 28 (1974). Note the similarity between the foregoing and
the following exchange:
"I wa/lt someone to tell me," Lieutenant Schiesskopf beseeched them all
prayerfully. "If any of it is my fault, I wallt to be told."
"He wants someone to tell him," Clevinger said.
"He wants everyone to keep still, idiot," Yossarian answered. J. Helier,
Catch-22 at 68 (1961).
10. Some evaluative statements have begun to appear. See Alien, supra note
1; E. TIlOmpson, Whigs alld Hunters: TIle Origins of the Black Act (1975); E.
Van den Haag, PlInishing Crimillals: COllceming a Ven) Old alld Painful
Question (1975); J. Wilson, Thillkillg about Crime (1975); Carson, "Symbolic
and Instrumental Dimensions of Early Factory Legislation," in Crime,
Criminology alld Public Policy 107 (R. Hood, ed., 1975); Carson, "The Soci-
ology of Crime and the Emergence of Criminal Laws," in Deviance and
Social COlltrol67 (p.-Rock and M. McIntosh, eds., 1974); Gibbs and Erick-
son, "Maior Developments in the Socioloeical StudY of Deviance." in All-
36. Robert F. Meier 527
1II1l11 Review of Sociolo~r;;Jj 21 (A. Inkeles, J. Coleman and N. Smelser, eds.,
1975); Hirsl, "Marx and Engels on Law, Crime, and Morality," in Critical
Crimillolog1j 203 (I. Taylor, P. WaIton, & J. Young, eds., 1975); Sykes, supra
note 4; Turk, "Prospects and Pitfalls for Radical Criminology: A Critical
Response to PIa tt," 4 Crime and Social Justice 41 (1945) (see note 9 supra);
Van den Haag, sI/pm note 3: Walker, "Lost Causes in Criminology," in
Crillle, Criminology alld Public Policy (R Hood. ed., 1975).
11. That I have been somewhat selective in choosing which points I consider
essential to the new criminology will be obvious; the selection has been
guided by the nature of the argument presented here.
12. Sykes, supra note 4.
13. B. Kriseberg, Crime and Privilege (1975).
14. The term self-interest is most often used to denote selfishness, but there
is a distinction: "Self-interest is the satisfaclion of one's desires; selfish-
ness is the satisfaction of one's desires at the expense of someone else."
B. Dunham, Mm Agaillst Myth 41 (1947), quoted in H. Schwendinger and
J. Schwendinger, The Sociologists of the Cllai,.190 (1974).
15. W. Chambliss, "Functional and Conflict Theories of Crime," 17 MSS
Module 1 (1974). See also the revised version of this paper in WJlOse Law?
Whose Order? 1 (W. Chambliss and M. Mankoff, eds., 1976).
16. Kriseberg, supm note 13 at 30. [Emphasis added.] . .. .
17. But see R Quinney, Critique of Legal Order: Crime Control 11l CapItalIst SOCI-
ety (1974).
18. J.Hall, ThefI, Law amI Society (2nd ed., 1952). .
19. W. Chambliss, "A SociolOgical AnalysiS of the Law of Vagrancy," 12 Socwl
Problems 67 (1964); Roby, "Politics and Criminal Law: Revision of the
New York State Penal Law on Prostitution," 17 Social Problems 83 (1969);
T. Duster, The Legislation of Moralih) (1970).
20. Tile Solution of Socilll Problems (E. Rubington and M. Weinberg, eds.,
1971).
21. See Schwendinger and Schwendinger, supra note 14, who disagree with
the well-known analysis of this issue contained in Mills, "The Profession-
al Ideology of Social Pathologists," 49 AmcriClm jOll/"1lal of Sociology 165
(1943).
22. Hollander, "Sociology, Selective Determinism, and the Rise of Expecta-
tions," 8 Americall Sociologist 147 (1973).
23. A recent editorial in the new criminology's journal dedicated that issue
to one of the former staff members of the journal, Mary Gay, who had
been killed by her husband. The moral outrage such an act might other-
wise generate was tempered: "Mary Gay was beaten to death by a
man-her husband, who like her was a victim of a cruel system. " 4 Crime
and Social jllstice 6-! (1975) (dedicalion).
24. Schwendingcr and Schwendinger, "Defenders of Order or Guardians of
Human Righls? 51sslles ill Criminology 123 (1970).
25. Krisberg, "Teaching Radical Criminology," 1 Crime llnd Social jllstice 64,
65 (1974).
"..: D u __ ~_ r'1.: ____ c __ :_,_~, /10';'71
27. This was accomplished by the functionalists; see text accompanying 51. R. Ericson, "British Criminology: A New Subject or Old Politics?" 16
notes 37-42 infrn. CIIIllldian Jotll1lal of Criminology and COITectiollS 352 (1974).
28. W. Bonger, Crilllilwlity and Ecollomic Conditions (1916). 52. See also S. Cahen, Tlle Images of Deviallce 16 (1971); A. Gouldner, T1Je
29. The Payment, however, is usually awkward since Banger has been con- Coming Crisis in Sociology 20 (l970).
sidered to have used a "totally un-Marxist" approach in his work. Taylar, 53. Beeker and Horowitz, "Radical Politics and Sociological Research," 78
Walton and Young, supra note 2, at 298, quoted in Gibbs and Erickson, American JOJlrnal of Sociology 58 (1972).
supra note 10, at 37-39. 54. Krisberg, Slipi'll note 25, at 65.
30. C. Conwell, Tile Professiollal Thief, (E. Sutherland, 1937); C. Shaw, Brothers 55. Marzotto, Platt and Snare, "A Reply to Turk," 4 Crime and Social Justice 3,
il1 Crime (1938); Shaw, The Jack-Roller (1930). More recent examples trom 44 (1975). See note 10 supra.
this tradition can be found in W. Chambliss, Box Mal!: A ProfessiolUll 56. C. tvIills, The Soci%gicalllllllgil1atiOll (1959).
Thief's JOllmcy (1972); B. Jackson, Outside tIle Law: A TT1iets Primer (1972). 57. R. Lynd, Kllowledge for What? (1939).
31. Schwendinger and Schwendinger, supra note 24. 58. H. Beeker, "Whose Side Are We On?" 20 Socilll Problems 239 (1967).
32. P. Sorokin, Fads and Foibles ill Modem Sociology 3-20 (1956). 59. A. Gouldner, "The Sociologist as Partisan: Sociology and tlle Welfare
33. J. NUchael and M. Adler, Crime, Lnw alld Social Science (1933). State," 30 American Sociologist 103 (1968).
34. Id. at 26. 60. D. Matza, Becomillg Devimlt (l969).
35. Id. at 83, n. 26. 61. A. Liazos, "The Poverty of the Sociology of Deviance: Nuts, Sluts and
36. T. Sellin, Cultllre Conflict alId Crime (1938). "Preverts'," 20 Social Problems 103 (1972); Thio, "Class Bias in the Sociolo-
37. E. Sutherland, "Is 'White Collar Crime' Crime?" 10 Americalt Sociological gy of Deviance," 8 American Sociologist 1 (1973).
Rr:-uicw 132 (1945); P. Tappan, "Who Is the Criminal? 12 Americall Sociolog-
iC1I1 Review 96 (1947).
38. R. Merton, Social TheOl}! mid Social Stl"lldure 72 (1957).
39. D. Bell, TIle End of Ideology 115-58 (1960).
40. Davis, "Prostitution," in Colttell/poran) Social Problems (R. Merton and R. Contemporary Application
Nisbet, eds" 1966).
41. Merton, supra note 39, at 131-94.
42. J. Young, Tllf.' Drllgtakers 174 (1971). 37 State-Organized Crime-The American Society of
43. Sykes, sllpra note 4. Criminology, 1988 Presidential Address
44. H. Seeker, Olltsiders (1963).
45. Id. at 9.
WILLIAM J. CHAMBLISS
46. Id. at 9-10. There is a form of crime that has heretofore escaped criminological in-
47. Id. at 17-18. quiry, yet its persistence and omnipresence raise theoretical and method-
48. Id. at 18. ological issues crucial to the development of criminology as a science. I
49. Id. at 147-63.
am referring to what I call "state-orgaruzed crime."
50. From the labeling tradition the uses of official criminal statistics have
been most seriously questioned. These statistics point clearly to the con-
clusion that "street" crime is heavily concentrated in lower socio-
economic groups. While this conclusion has been attenuated (but only THE PROBLEM
mildly) by self-report and victimization studies which suggest a slightly
more even distribution of this behavior throughout the class system, the Twenty-five years ago I began researching the relationship among or-
claim is made that official statistics are relatively accurate estimates, not ganized crime, politicS, and law enforcement in Seattle, Washington
of criminal behavior, but of the actions of social control agencies. It is not (Chambliss, 1968, 1971, 1975a, 1975b, 1977, 1980, 1988a). At the outset I
evident whether there really is more crime in the lower classes, thus forc- concentrated on understanding the political, economic, and social rela-
ing the police to concentrate their efforts there, or whether the police tions of those immediately involved in organizing and financing vice
concentrate their efforts there for other reasons. See Kitsuse and Ci- in the local area. It became clear to me, however, that to understand the
eourel. "A Note on the Uses of Official Statistics," 11 Social Problems 131
(1963). Portions of this paper are based on WilJiam J. Chambliss, Exploring Criminology (New
York: Macmillian, 1988). Reprinted by permission of Criminology and Crimillal Jllstice.
532 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
peace. They were forced to settle for less desirable lands or areas not
yet claimed by the Spanish and Portuguese.
Although they lacked the vision to finance explorers such as
Christopher Columbus and Vasco da Gama, France, England, and Hol-
land nonetheless possessed powerful navies. ll1ey were also the home of
some of the world's more adventurous pirates, who heretofore had lim-
ited their escapades to the European and African coasts.
With the advent of Spain and Portugal's discovery of vast new
sources of wealth, other European nations were faced with a dilem-
ma: They could sit idly by and watch the center of power tip inex-
orably toward the Iberian Peninsula, or they could seek ways to
interfere with the growing wealth of their neighbors to the south. One
alternative, of course, was to go to war. Another, less risky for the mo-
ment but promising some of the same results, was to enter into an al-
liance with pirates. France, England, and Holland chose the less risky
course.
To transport the gold and silver from the Spanish Main (the
Caribbean coast of South America) to Bilbao and from Brazil to Lisbon
required masterful navigational feats. A ship laden with gold and silver
could not travel fast and was easy prey for marauders (Exquemling,
1670). To complicate matters, ships were forced by the prevailing winds
and currents to travel in a predictable direction. These conditions pro-
vided an open invitation for pirates to exploit the weaknesses of the
transporting ships to their advantage. Poverty and a lack of alternatives
drove many young men to sea in search of a better life. Some came to the
New World as convicts or indentured slaves. The lure of the pirate's life
was an alternative that for all its hardships was more appealing than
the conditions of serfdom and indentured servitude.
The French government was the first to seize the opportunity of-
fered by engaging in piracy (Ritchie, 1986). It saw in piracy a source of
wealth and a way of neutralizing some of the power of Spain and Por-
tugaL Although piracy was an act second to none in seriousness in
French law (summary execution was the punishment), the French gov-
ernment nonetheless instructed the governors of its islands to allow pi-
rate ships safe portage in exchange for a share of the stolen merchandise.
Thus, the state became complicitous in the most horrific sprees of crim-
inality in history.
The pirate culture condoned violence on a scale seldom seen. There
was no mercy for the victims of the pirates' attacks. Borgnefesse, a
French pirate who wrote his memoirs after retiring to a gentleman's life
in rural France, was an articulate chronicler of these traits. He wrote,
for example, of how he once saved a young girl "not yet into puberty"
from being raped by two "beastly filibusters" who were chasing her out
37. William j. Chambliss 533
of a )10use in a village that he and his men had attacked (LeGolif, 1680).
Borgnefesse wrote of being embarrassed that on that occasion he felt
"pity" for the young girl and violated one of the ironclad laws of the
pirate's world: that women were prizes for whoever found them in the
cour~e of a raid. Th~ would.-be ~apists resisted his effort to Save the girl
and told ~e I was mterfer:ng In a matter which was none of my busi-
ness, that pIllage was pernutted in the forcing of the women as well as
the coffers."
It was commonplace among pirates to "take no prisoners" unless, of
course, they could be useful to the victors. Borgnefesse described how he
cut off the heads of everyone on board a Spanish "prize" because the
enemy angered him by injuring his arm during the battle. Another time
he and his men took all the people on a captured ship, tied them up in
the mainsail, threw them in the water, and then drank rum while lis-
tenin? to the screams of the slowly drowning men. For all his criminal
explOlts, however, Borgnefesse was well protected by French ships and
French colonies.
England and Holland were quick to join the French. Sir Richard
Hawkins and his apprentice, Francis Drake, were issued "letters of mar-
que" from the Admiralty directing governors of British colonies and
c~ptains of Britis~ warships to give safe passage and every possible as-
SIstance to Hawldns and Drake as they were acting "under orders of
the Crown" (British Museum, 1977). TI1eir "orders" were to engage in
pu:acy agamst Sparush and Portuguese ships. Thus, the state specifical-
ly mstructed selected individuals to engage in criminal acts. The law, it
must be emphasized, did. not change. Piracy remained a crime punish-
able by death, but some prrates were given license to murder, rape, plun-
der, destroy, and steal.
The state's complicity in piracy was more successful, one suspects,
than even the most avaricious monarchs expected. On one voyage (be-
tween 1572 and 1573), Drake returned to England with enough gold
and silver to support the government and all its expenses for a period of
7 years (Corbett, 1898a, 1898b). Most of this wealth came from Drake's
attack on the town of Nombre de Dios, which was a storage depot for
Sparush ,?old and silver. In this venture Drake joined forces with some
French pIrates and ambushed a treasure train.
Drake was knighted for his efforts, but the Spanish were not silent.
They formally challenged Britain's policies, but the queen of England de-
med that Drak~ was operating with_ her blessing (after, of course, taking
the gold and sIlver that he brought home) and Drake was tried as a
criminal. He was publicly exiled, but privately he was sent to Ireland,
where he reern~rged several years later (in 1575) serving under the first
Earl of Essex in Ireland.
I I
534 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Borgnefesse and Sir Francis Drake are only two of hundreds of pi-
rates who plied their trade between 1400 and 1800 (Senior, 1976). Their
crimes were supported by, and their proceeds shared with, whatever
nation-state offered them protection and supplies. In theoI}'i each na-:
non-state only protected its ov-m pirates, but in practice, they all pro-
tected any pirates willing to share their gains.
To rationalize the fundamental contradiction between the law and
the interests of the stateJ European nations created a legal fiction. Is-
sued either directly from the monarch or the Admiralty, the letters of
marque gave pirates a sort of license, but with specific limitations on
the kinds of acts that were permissible. One restriction was that the
pirates were not to (a) attack ships of the country issu1ng the letter, (b)
plunder villages or towns, or (c) open the captured cargo until they
returned to port.
The reality of piracy was quite at odds with all of these limitations.
Much of the success of piracy depended on attacking towns and vil-
lages, during which raping f plundering, and razing the town were ac-
cepted practices, Pirates sometimes kept one or more officers from
captured ships along \o\~th their letters of marque and identifying flags in
order to show them in case of attack by a ship from another country,
This also enabled a pirate ship from France, say, to raise an English flag
and attack a French ship. For the pirates loyalty to the nation came sec-
ond to the search for gold.
At one time or another virtually every European nation, and the
United States as well, between 1500 and 1800 was compHcitous in pira-
cy. In the United States, Charleston r South Carolina, several New
England towns, and New York were safe harbors for pirates. In return
for sharing in the prize, these towns provided safety from capture by for-
eign authorities and a safe place for pirates to celebrate their victories.
John Paul Janes became an American hero through his success as a
pirate and was even given a commission in the navy (de la Croix, 1962;
MacIntyre, 1975). Jean and Pierre Lafitte were the toast of New Orleans
society while they enriched themselves by organizing and aiding pi-
rates and smugglers at the mouth of the Mississippi River. Their status
was considerably enhanced when the federal government enlisted their
aid in the war against England and made Jean an officer of the U.s,
Navy in return for helping to defeat the British Navy that was gathering
its forces for an attack on New Orleans (Verill, 1924). In time of war, na-
tions enlisted pirates to serve in their navy. In time of peace, they shared
in the profits.
During the period from 1600 to 1900, capitalism was becoming £irrn-
'--!~~ .... I- t:>.rnnomic system of the world, The es-
.
37. Wuliam J. Chambliss 535 j
borders was the accumulation of capital. Not only was another nation's
j
wealth a threat to the autonomy of neighboring states, one nation's gain
was invariably another's loss. Piracy helped to equalize the balance and
reduce the tendency toward the monopolization of capital accumula- j
tion. The. need for capital. accumulation does not end with the emer-
'b~"D..<:'e. ol c.'i:I.~\\:a\.\<:'m-, \.'t c.1::)"(\.\i\:\."\l.€.'..S ':2.Q \()!'I.'E:, os \'cte. e.c.onOID-1 auu a naUGr\S
mi\ita_ry anti ec.oI\C1ro.l.c. sh.e.n'E,fu ue\>e:u&' ()n. \.'t, ~~n \I\\.o..C'j c.l.!a'Sl;!~ \.'\:1 j
be a viable method tor accumulating capital, other larms 01 illegauly
were employed, In today's world, there is evidence that some small
city-states in the Far East (especially in Indonesia) still pursue a policy
of supporting pirates and sharing in their profits. But piracy no longer
j
plays a major role in state-organized crime; today, the role is filled by
smuggling,
j
SMUGGLING
j
Smuggling occurs when a government has successfully cornered the
market on some commodity or when it seeks to keep a commodity of
another nation from crossing its borders. In the annals of crimel every-
thing from sheep to people, wool to wine, gold to drugs, and even ideas,
j
have been prohibited for either export of import. Paradoxically, what-
ever IS prohibited, it is at the expense of one group of people for the
benefit o~ an.othe.r. Thusr the laws that prohibit the import or export of a
j
CO~O~lty mevltably face a bUilt-in resistance. Some part of the popu-
lation WIll ~lways want to either possess or to distribute the prohibited
goods. At times, the state finds itseli in the position of having its own in-
j
terests served by violating precisely the same laws passed to prohibit the
export or Import of the goods it has defined as illegal.
j
NARconcs AND THE VIETNAM WAR
Sometime around the eighth century, Turkish traders discovered a mar-
ket for opium in Southeast Asia (Chambliss, 1977; McCoy, 1973). Por-
j
tu~uese traders several centuries later found a thriving business in
OPI~ trafficking conducted by small ships sailing between trading
ports ill the area. One of the prizes of Portuguese piracy was the opium
j
that was taken from local traders and exchanged for tea, spices, and
potter)~ Several centuries Iater~ when the French colonized Indochina
the traffic in opium was a thriving business, The French joined the dru; j
traffickers and licensed opium dens throughout Indochina. With th~
profits from those licenses, the French supported 50% of the cost of their
j
~..,1.., .... ;~1 ...... ,-.. "........ rnont (!\./frrnv 1Q7,q· 77'-
j
536 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
When the Communists began threatening French rule in Indochina,
the French government used the opium profits to finance the war. It
also used cooperation with the hill tribes who controlled opium pro-
duction as a means of ensuring the allegiance of the hill tribes in the
war against the Communists (McCoy, 1973).
The French were defeated in Vietnam and withdrew, only to be re-
placed by the United States. The United States inherited the dependence
on opium profits and the cooperation of the hill tribes, who in turn de-
pended on being allowed to continue growing and shipping opium.
The ClA went a step further than the French and provided the opium-
growing feudal lords in the mountains of Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia,
and Thailand with transportation for their opium via Air America, the
CIA airline in Vietnam.
Air America regularly transported bundles of opium from airstrips
in Laos, Cambodia, and Burma to Saigon and Hong Kong (Chambliss,
1977: 56). An American stationed at Long Cheng, the secret ClA mili-
tary base in northern Laos during the war, observed:
. .. 50 long as the Mea leadership could keep their wards in the boon-
docks fighting and dying in the name of, for these unfortunates any-
way, some nebulous cause ... the Mea leadership [was paid off] in the
fann of a carte-blanch to exploit US-supplied airplanes and commu-
nication gear to the end of greatly streamlining the opium opera-
tions .... (Chambliss, 1977: 56).
This report was confirmed by Laotian Army General Guane Rattikone,
who told me in an interview in 1974 that he was the principal overseer
of the shipment of opium out of the Golden Triangle via Air America.
U.S. law did not permit the ClA or any of its agents to engage in the
smuggling of opium.
After France withdrew from Vietnam and left the protection of
democracy to the United States, the French intelligence service that
preceded the CIA in managing the opium smuggling in Asia continued
to support part of its clandestine operations through drug trafficking
(Kruger, 1980). Although those operations are shrouded in secrecy, the
evidence is very strong that the French intelligence agencies helped
to organize the movement of opium through the Middle East (espe-
cially Morocco) after their revenue from opium from Southeast Asia
was cut off.
In 1969 Micluel Hand, a former Green Beret and one of the CIA
agents stationed at Long Cheng when Air America was shipping opium,
moved to Australia, ostensibly as a private citizen. On arriving in Aus-
tralia, Hand entered into a business partnership with an Australian na-
tional, Frank Nugan. In 1976 they established the Nugan Hand Bank in
.c,,,nnpv (('nmmnnwealth of New South Wales, 1982a, 1982b). The Nugan
37. William J. Chambliss 537
Hand Bank began as a storefront operation with minimal capital in-
vestment, but almost immediately it boasted deposits of over $25 mil-
lion. The rapid growth of the bank resulted from large deposits of secret
funds made by narcotics and arms smugglers and large deposits from
the ClA (Nihill, 1982).
In addition to the records from the bani( that suggest the ClA was
using the bank as a conduit for its funds, the bank's connection to the
ClAand other U.S. intelligence agencies is evidenced by the people who
formed the directors and principal officers of the bank, including the
following:
• Admiral Earl F. Yates, president of the Nugan Hand Bank was,
during the Vietnam War, chief of staff for strategic planning of
US. forces in Asia and the Pacific.
• General Edwin F. Black, president of Nugan Hand's Hawaii
branch, was commander of U.s. troops in Thailand during the
Vietnam War and, after the war, assistant army chief of staff for
the Pacific .
• General Erie Cocke, Jr., head of the Nugan Hand Washington,
D.e., office.
• George Farris, worked in the Nugan Hand Hong Kong and Wash-
ington, D.e. offices. Farris was a military mtelligence specialist
who worked in a special forces training base in the Pacific.
• Bernie Houghton, Nugan Hand's representative in Saudi Arabia.
Houghton was also a U.S. naval intelligence undercover agent.
• Thomas Clines, director of training in the CIA's clandestine ser-
vice, was a London operative for Nugan Hand who helped in the
takeover of a London-based bank and was stationed at Long
Cheng with Michael Hand and Theodore S. Shacldey during the
Vietnam War.
• Dale Holmgreen, former flight service manager in Vietnam for
Civil Air Transport, which became Air America. He was on the
board of directors of Nugan Hand and ran the bank's Taiwan of-
fice.
• Walter McDonald, an economist and former deputy director of
CIA for economic research, was a specialist in petroleum. He
became a consultant to Nugan Hand and served as head of its
Annapolis, Maryland, branch.
• General Roy Manor, who ran the Nugan Hand Philippine office,
was a Vietnam veteran who helped coordinate the aborted at-
tempt to rescue the Iranian hostages, chief of staff for the U.S.
538 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
Pacific command, and U1e U.s. government's liaison officer to
Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos.
On the board of directors of the parent company formed by Michael
Hand that preceded the Nugan Hand Bank were Grant Walters, Robe~t
Peterson, David M. Houton, and Spencer Smith, all of whom listed theu:
address as cl 0 Air America, Army Post Office, San Francisco, California.
Also working through the Nugan Hand Bank was Edwin F. Wilson,
a CIA agent involved in smuggling arms to the Middle East and later
sentenced to prison by a U.s. court for sIDugglmg illegal arms to Libya.
Edwin Wilson's associate in :Mideast arms shipments was Theodore
Shackley, head of the Miami, Florida, CIA stationI In 1973, when
Williarn Colby was made director of Central Intelhgence, Shackley re-
placed him as head of covert operations for the Far East; on his retire-
ment from the CIA William Colby became Nugan Hand's lawyer.
In the late 19705 the banle experienced financial difficulties, which
led to the death of Frank Nugan. He was found dead of a shotgtm blast
in his Mercedes Benz on a remote road outside Sydney. The official ex-
planation was suicide, but some investigators speculated that he might
have been murdered. In any event, Nugan's death created a major bank-
ing scandal and culminated in a government investigation. The u:vesti-
gation revealed that millions of dollars were unaccounted for m the
bank's records and that the bank was serving as a money-laundering
operation for narcotics smugglers and as a conduit through which the
CIA was financing gun smuggling and other illegal operations through-
out the world. These operations included illegally smuggling arms to
South Africa and the Middle East. There was also evidence that the CIA
used the Nugan Hand Banlc to pay for political campaigns that slan-
dered politicians, including Australia's Prime :tv1inister Witham (KWltny,
1977).
ivlichael Hand tried desperately to cover up the operations of the
bank. Hundreds of documents were destroyed before investigators
could get into the bank. Despite Band's efforts, the scandal mush-
roomed and eventually Hand was forced to flee Australia. He managed
this, while under indictment for a rash of felonies, with the aid of a CIA
official who flew to Australia with a false passport and accompanied
him out of the country. Band's father, who lives in New York, denies
knowing anything about his son's whereabouts.
Thus, the evidence uncovered by the government investigation in
Australia linked high-level CIA officials to a bank in Sydney that was re-
sponsible for financing and laundering money for a significant part of
,,- - - ----..;-,-, h-",f+;,.,lrino- nrio-inr1nnl! in Southeast Asia (Commonwealth
37. WilliamJ. Chambliss 539
smuggling and illegal involvement in the democratic processes of a
friendly nation. Other investigations reveal that the events in Australia
were but part of a worldwide involvement in narcotics and arms smug-
gling by the CIA and French intelligence (Hougan, 1978; Kruger, 1980;
Owen, 1983).
ARMS SMUGGLING
One of the most important forms of state-organized crime today is arms
smuggling. To a significant extent, U.S. involvement in narcotics smug-
gling after the Vietnam War can be understood as a means of funding
the purchase of military weapons for nations and insurgent groups that
could not be funded legally through congressional allocations or for
which US. law prohibited support (NARMIC, 1984).
In violation of U.s. law, members of the National Security Council
(NSq, the Department of Defense, and the CIA carried out a plan to
sell millions of dollars worth of arms to Iran and use profits from those
sales to support the Contras in Nicaragua (Senate Hearings, 1986). The
Boland amendment, effective in 1985, prohibited any US. official from
directly or indirectly assisting the Contras. To circumvent the law, a
group of intelligence and military officials established a "secret team" of
US. operatives, including Lt. Colonel Oliver North, 111eodore Shack-
ley, Thomas Clines, and Maj. General Richard Secord, among others
(testimony before US. Senate, 1986). Shackley and Clines, as noted, were
CIA agents in Long Cheng; along with Michael Hand they ran the secret
war in Laos, which was financed in part from profits from opium smug-
gling. Shackley and Clines had also been involved in the 1961 invasion
of Cuba and were instrumental in hiring organized-Crime figures in an
attempt to assassinate Fidel Castro.
Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii claims that this "secret govern-
ment within our government" waging war in l1lird World countries
was part of the Reagan doctrine (the Guardian, July 29,1987). Whether
President Reagan or then Vice President Bush were aware of the opera-
tions is yet to be established. What cannot be doubted in the face of
overvvhelming evidence in testimony before the Senate and from court
documents is that this group of officials of the state oversaw and coor-
dinated the distribution and sale of weapons to Iran and to the Contras
in Nicaragua. These acts were in dired violation of the illegal Arms Ex-
port Control Act, which made the sale of arms to Iran unlawful, and
the Boland amendment, which made it a crimInal act to supply the Con-
tras with arms or funds.
The weapons that were sold to Iran were obtained by the CIA
540 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
the transfer of weapons from Army stocks to the CIA without the
knowledge of Congress four times in 1986. The arms were then trans-
ferred to middlemen, such as Iranian arms dealer Yaacov Nimrodi, ex-
iled Iranian arms dealer Manucher Ghorbanifar, and Saudi Arabian
businessman Adman Khashoggi. Weapons were also flown directly to
the Contras, and funds from the sale of weapons were diverted to sup-
port Contra warfare. There is also considerable evidence that this "se-
cret team," along with other military and CIA officials, cooperated with
narcotics smuggling in Latin America in order to fund the Contras in
Nicaragua.
In 1986, the Reagan administration admitted that Adolfo Chamor-
ra's Contra group, which was supported by the CIA, was helping a
Colombian drug trafficker transport drugs into the United States.
Chamorro was arrested in April 1986 for his involvement (Potter and
Bullington, 1987: 54). Testimony in several trials of major drug traffick-
ers in the past 5 years has revealed innumerable instances in which
drugs were flown from Central America into the United States with the
cooperation of military and CIA personnel. These reports have also been
confirmed by military personnel and private citizens who testified that
they saw drugs being loaded on planes in Central America and un-
loaded at military bases in the United States. Pilots who flew planes
with arms to the Contras report returning with planes carrying drugs.
At the same time that the United States was illegally supplying the
Nicaraguan Contras with arms purchased, at least in part, with profits
from the sale of illegal drugs, the administration launched a campaign
against the Sandanistas for their alleged involvement in drug trafficking.
Twice during his weekly radio shows in 1986, President Reagan accused
the Sandanistas of smuggling drugs. Barry Seal, an informant and pilot
for the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) was ordered by mem-
bers of the CIA and DEA to photograph the Sandanistas loading a plane.
During a televised speech in March 1986, Reagan showed the picture
that Seal took and said that it showed Sandanista officials loading a
plane with drugs for shipment to the United States. After the photo was
displayed, Congress appropriated $100 million in aid for the Contras.
Seal later admitted to reporters that the photograph he took was a plane
being loaded with crates that did not contain drugs. He also told re-
porters that he was aware of the drug smuggling activities of the Contra
network and a Colombian cocaine syndicate. For his candor, Seal was
murdered in February 1987. Shortly after his murder, the DEA issued a
"low key clarification" regarding the validity of the photograph, ad-
mitting that there was no evidence that the plane was being loaded with
drugs.
37. William J. Chambliss 541
Other testimony linking the CIA and U.S. military officials to com-
plicity in drug trafficking includes the testimony of John Stockwell, a
former high-ranking CIA official, who claims that drug smuggling and
the CIA were essential components in the private campaign far the Con-
tras. Corroboration for these assertions comes also from George Morales,
one of the largest drug traffickers in South America, who testified that he
was approached by the CIA in 1984 to fly weapons into Nicaragua.
Morales claims that the CIA opened up an airstrip in Costa Rica and
gave the pilots information on how to avoid radar traps. According to
Morales, he flew 20 shipments of weapons into Costa Rica in 1984 and
1985. In return, the CIA helped him to smuggle thousands of kilos of
cocaine into the United States. Morales alone channeled $250,000 quar-
terly to Contra leader Adolfo Chamorra from his trafficking activity. A
pilot for Morales, Gary Betzner, substantiated Morales's claims and ad-
mitted flying 4,000 pounds of arms into Costa Rica and 500 kilos of co-
caine to Lakeland, Florida, on his return trips. From 1985 to 1987, the
CIA arranged 50 to 100 flights usIng U.S. airports that did not undergo
inspection.
The destination of the flights by Morales and Betzner was a hidden
airstrip on the ranch of Jolm Hull. Hull, an admitted CIA agent, was a
primary player in Oliver North's plan to aid the Cantras. Hull's activi-
ties were closely monitored by Robert Owen, a key player in the Contra
Supply network. Owen established the Institute for Democracy, Educa-
tion, and Assistance, which raised money to buy arms for the Contras
and which, in October 1985, was asked by Congress to distribute $50,000
in "humanitarian aid" to the Contras. Owen worked for Oliver North in
coordinating illegal aid to the Contras and setting up the airstrip on the
ranch of John Hull.
According to an article in the Nation, Oliver North's network of op-
eratives and mercenaries had been linked to the largest drug cartel in
South America since 1983. The DEA estimates the Colombian Jorge
Ochoa Vasquez, the "kingpin" of the Medellin drug empire, is respon-
sible for supplying 70% to 80% of the cocaine that enters the United
States every year. Ochoa was taken into custody by Spanish police in
October 1984 when a verbal order was sent by the U.S. Embassy in
Madrid for his arrest. The embassy specified that Officer Cos-Gayon,
who had undergone training with the DEA, should make the arrest.
Other members of the Madrid Judicial Police were connected to the
DEAand Narth's arms smuggling netvvork Ochoa's lawyers informed
him that the United States would alter his extradition if he agreed to
implicate the Sandanista government in drug trafficking. Ochoa refused
and spent 20 months in jail before returning to Columbia. The Spanish
 rUUGC':; ana \...la':;!:i ID me ~may ur LleVlance
courts ruled that the United States was tryillg to use Ochoa to discredit
Nicaragua and released him. (The Nation, September 5,1987.)
There are other links between the US. government and the Medellin
cartel. Jose Blandon, General Noriega's fonner chief advisor, claims that
DEA operations have protected the drug empire in the past and that the
DEA paid Noriega $4.7 million for his silence. Blandon also testified in
Senate committee hearings that Panama's bases were used as training
camps for the Contras in exchange for "economic" support from the
United States. Finally, Blandon contends that the CIA gave Panamanian
leaders intelligence documents about D.S. senators and aides; the CIA
denies these charges. (The Christian Science MOl1itOJ; February 11, 1988: 3.)
Other evidence of the interrelationship among drug trafficking, the
CIA, the NSC, and aid to the Contras includes the following:
• In January 1983, two Contra leaders in Costa Rica persuaded the
Justice Department to return over $36,000 in drug profits to drug
dealers Julio Zavala and CarIos Cabezas for aid to the Contras
(Potter and Bullington, 1987: 22).
o Michael Palm er, a drug dealer in Miami, testified that the State
Department's Nicaraguan humanitarian assistance office contract-
ed with his company, Vortex Sales and Leasing, to take humanitar-
ian aid to the Contras. PaImer claims that he smuggled $40 million
in marijuana to the United States between 1977 and 1985 (The
Guardian, March 20, 1988: 3).
• During House and Senate hearings in 1986, it was revealed that a
major DEA investigation of the Medellin drug cartel of Colombia,
which was expected to culminate in the arrest of several leaders of
the carte], was compromised when someone in the White House
leaked the story of the investigation to the Washington Times (a
conservative newspaper in Washington, D.C.), which published
the story on July 17; 1984. According to DEAAdmlnistrator John
Lawn, the leak_ destroyed what was "probably one of the most sig-
nificant operations in DEAhistory" (Sharkey, 1988: 24).
• When Honduran General Jose Buseo, who was described by the
Justice Department as an "mternational terrorist," was indicted
for conspiring to murder the president of Honduras in a plot fi-
nanced by profits from cocaine smuggling, Oliver North and offi-
cials from the Department of Defense and the CIA pressured the
Justice Department to be lenient with General Buseo. In a memo
disclosed by the Iran-Contra committee, North stated that if Buseo
was not protected "he will break his longstanding silence about
the Nic(araguanJ resistance and other sensitive operations"
(Sharkey, 1988: 27).
On first blush, it seems odd that goverrunent agencies and officials
would engage in such wholesale disregard of the law. As a first step in
building an explanation for these and other forms of state-organized
crime, let us try to understand why officials of the CIA, the NSC, and the
Department of Defense would be willing to commit criminal acts in pur-
suit of other goals.
WHY?
Why would government officials from the NSC, the Defense Depart-
ment, the State Department, and the CIA become involved in smug-
gling anns and narcotics, money laundering, assassinations, and other
criminal activities? The answer lies in the structural contradictions that
inhere in nation-states (Chambliss, 1980).
As Weber, Marx, and Gramsci pointed out, no state can survive
without establishing legitimacy. The law is a fundamental cornerstone in
creating legitimacy and an illusion (at least) of social order. It claims
universal principles that demand some behaviors and prohibit others.
The protection of property and personal security are obligations as-
sumed by states everywhere both as a means of legitimizing the state's
franchise on violence and as a means of protecting commercial inter-
ests (Chambliss and Seidman, 1982).
The threat posed by smuggling to both personal security and prop-
erty interests makes laws prohibiting smuggling essential. Under some
circumstances, however, such laws contradict other interests of the state.
This contradiction prepares the ground for state-organized crime as a so-
lution to the conflicts and dilemmas posed by the simultaneous exis-
tence of contradictory "legitimate" goals.
The military-intelligence establishment in the United States is res-
olutely committed to fighting the spread of "communism" throughout
the world. This mission is not new but has prevailed since the 1800s.
Congress and the presidency are not consistent in their support for the
money and policies thought by the frontline warriors to be necessary
to accomplish their lofty goals. As a result, programs under way are
sometimes undermined by a lack of funding and even by laws that pro-
hibit their continuation (such as the passage of laws prohibiting sup-
port for the Contras). Officials of government agencies adversely
affected by political changes are thus placed squarely in a dilemma: If
they comply with the legalllmitations on their activities they sacrifice
their mission. The dilemma is heightened by the fact that they can an-
ticipate future policy changes that will reinstate their resources and their
freedom. When that time comes, however, programs adversely affected
will be difficult if not Impossible to recreate.
 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
544
A number of events that occurred between 1960 and 1980 left the
military and the CIA with badly tarnished images. Those events and
political changes underscored their vulnerability. 11,e CIA lost c~nS1d­
erable political clout with elected officials when Its planned .mvaslOn of
Cuba (the infamous Bay of Pigs invasion) was a complete d15~ster. Per-
haps as never before in its history, the United States showed Itself vu~­
nerable to the resistance of a small nation. The CIA was blamed for thlS
fiasco even though it was President Kennedy' 5 decision to go ahead
-with the plans that he inherited from the previous a~nistration.
add to the agency's problems, the complicity betvveen It and m
to In-
:0
vade Chile and overthrow the Aliende government was yet another scar
(see below), as was the involvement of the CIA in narcotics smuggling in
Vietnam.
These and other political realities led to a serious breach betw~en
Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, and Carter and the CIA. Durmg
President Nixon's tenure in the "White House, one of the CrA's top men,
lames Angleton, referred to Nixon's national se,:u~ty ~dvisor, Her:ry
Kissinaer (who became secretary of state) as obJectIvely, a SOvIet
Agent,7 (Hougan, 1984: 75). Another top agent of the CIA, lames Mc-
Cord (later ln1plicated in the Watergate b1Uglary) wrote a secret letter to
his superior, General Paul Gaynor, in January 1973 ID which he saId:
When the hundreds of dedicated fine men and women of the CIA no
longer write intelligence summaries and reports .with ~tegrity, ",?thout
fear of political recrimination-when their fme Duector (Richard
Helms] is being summarily discharged in order to make wayJ?r a
politician who will write or rewrite intelligence the way .the politio~
want them written, instead of the way truth and best ]udg~ent dIC-
tates, our nation is in the deepest of trouble and freedom Itself was
never so imperiled. Nazi Germany rose and fell under exactly tlle same
philosophy of governmental operation. (Hougan, 1984: 26-27)
McCord (1974: 60) spoke for many of the top military and intelligence of-
ficers in the United States when he wrote in his autobiography: "1 be-
lieved that the whole future of the nation was at stake." These views
show the depth of feeling toward the dangers of political "interfere~ce"
with what is generally accepted in the military-intelligence establISh-
ment as their mission (Goulden, 1984).
When jinuny Carter was elected president, he appointed Admiral
Stansfield Turner as director of Centrallntelligence. At the outset, Turn-
er made it clear that he and the president did not share the agency's
view that they were conducting their mission properly (Goulden, 1984;
Turner, 1985). Turner insisted on centralizing power in the director's of-
fice and on overseeing clandestine and covert operations. He met with
• -~-~;. ,.,nn<::irlPT::Ihlf> nnoosition from within
37. WtlliamJ. Chambliss 545
the agency, he reduced the size of the covert operation section from 1,200
to 400 agents. Agency people still refer to this as the "Halloween mas-
sacre."
. Old hands at the CIA do not think their work is dispensable. They
believe zealously, protectively, and one is tempted to say, with religious
fervor, that the work they are doing is essential for the salvation of hu-
mankind. With threats from both Republican and Democratic adrninis-
tr~ti~ns, the agency so.ught alternative sources of revenue to carry out its
ffils~lOn. TI:e alternative was already in place with the connections to
the mternational narcotics traffic, arms smuggling, the existence of secret
corporati~ns inc?rporated in foreign countries (such as Panama), and
the est.ablished links to banks for the laundering of money for covert
operations.
STATE.ORGANIZED ASSASSINATIONS AND MURDER
As~ass~ation plots .~d political murders are usually associated in peo-
ple s ~ds With nulitary dictatorships and European monarchies. The
practice of assassination, however, is not limited to unique historical
events ~ut has become a tool of international politics that involves mod-
ern nation-states of many different types.
In the 1960s a French intelligence agency hired Christian David to
assassmate the Moroccan leader Ben Barka (Hougan, 1978: 204--207).
~hrlStian David was one of those international "spooks" YVith connec-
tions to the DEA, the CIA, and international arms smugglers, such as
Robert Vesco.
In 1953 the CIA organized and supervised a coup d'etat in Iran that
overthrew the democratically elected government of Mohammed
Mossadegh, who had become unpopular with the United States when
he nationalize~ foreign-owned oil c~mpanies. The CIA's coup replaced
Mossadegh Wlth Reza Shah PahlevI, who denationalized the oil com-
panies and with CIA guidance established one of the most vicious se-
cret intelligence organizations in the world: SAVAK. In the years to
follow, the shah and CIA-trained agents of SAVAK murdered thou-
sands of Iranian citizens. They arrested almost 1,500 people monthly,
m?st of w~om were subjected to inhuman torture and punishments
WIthout trIal. Not only were SAVAK agents trained by the CIA, but
there IS eVIdence that they were instructed in techniques of torture
(Hersh, 1979: 13).
In 1970 the CIA repeated the practice of overthrowing democrati-
~ally elected governments that were not completely favorable to U.S.
mvestments. When Salvador Aliende was elected president of Chile,
546 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
the erA organized a coup that overthrew Allende, during which he,was
murdered, along with the head of the military, General Rene Schnelder.
Following Allende's overthrow, the CIA trained a~ents for the C~ilean
secret service (DINA). DINA set up a team of assassffiS who could trav-
el anywhere in the world ... to carry out sanctions including assassina-
tions" (Oinges and Landau, 1980: 239). One of the ~5sassinatio~ carried
out by DINA was the murder of Orlando Letel!!er, AUende s ambas-
sador to the United States and his former minister of defense. Letellier
was killed when a car bomb blew up his car on Embassy Row in Wash-
ington, D.e. (Dinges and Landau, 1982).
Other bloody coups know to have been planned, organized, and
executed by U .S. agents include coups in Guatemala, Nicaragua, the
Dominican Republic, and Vietnam. American involvement in those
coups was never legally authorized. TIle .m~ders, assassination~, and
terrorist acts that accompany coups are cnrmnal acts by law, both ID the
United States and in the country in which they take place.
More recent examples of murder and assassination for wl~ich ~ov­
emment officials are responsible include the death of 80 people m Beuut,
Lebanon, when a car bomb exploded on May 8, 1985. The bomb was
set by a Lebanese counterterrorist unit working with the CIA. Senator
Daniel Moynihan has said that when he was vice president of the Senate
Intelligence Committee, President Reagan ordered the. CIA to form a
small antiterrorist effort in the rvlideast. Two sources said that the CIA
was working with the group that planted the bomb to kill the Shiite
leader Hussein Fadallah (the New York Times, May 13, 1985).
A host of terrorist plans and activities connected with the attempt to
overthrow the Nicaraguan government, including several murders and
assassinations, were exposed in an affidavit rued by free-lance reporters
Tony Avirgan and Martha Honey. They began investigam: g Contra ac-
tivities after Avirgan was injured in an attempt on the life of Contra
leader Eden Pastora. In 1986, Honey and Avirgan filed a complaint with
the U.5. District Court in Miami charging John Hull, Robert Owen,
Theodore Shackley, Thomas Clines, Chi Chi Quintero, Maj. General
Richard Secord, and others working for the ClAin Central America with
criminal conspiracy and the smuggling of cocaine to aid the Nicaraguan
rebels.
A criminal conspiracy in which the CIA admits participating is the
publication of a manual, Psychological Operation in Guerrilla V'Iar(al'e,
which was distributed to the people of Nicaragua. The manual descnbes
how the people should proceed to commit murder, sabotage, vandal-
ism, and violent acts in order to undermine the government. Encour-
age or instigating such crimes is not only a violation of U.S.law, it was
37. William). Chambliss 547
also prohibited by Reagan's executive order of 1981, which forbade any
U.s. participation in foreign assassmanons.
The CIA is not alone in hatching criminal conspiracies. The DEA
organized a "Special Operations Group," which was responsible for
working out plans to assassinate political and business leaders in foreign
countries who were involved in drug trafficking. The head of this group
was former CIA agent, Lou Conein (also known a5 IIBlack Luigi").
George Crile wrote in the Washington Post (June 13, 1976):
When you get dovm to it, Conein was organizing an assassination pro-
gram. He was frustrated by the big-time operators who were just too
insulated to get to ... Meetings were held to decide whom to target and
what method of assassination to employ.
erile's findings were also supported by the investigative joumalistJim
Hougan (1978: 132).
It is a crime to conspire to commit murder. The official record, in-
cluding testimony by participants in three conspiracies before the U.s.
Congress and in court, make it abundantly clear that the crime of con-
spiring to commit murder is not infrequent in the intelligence agencies
of the United States and other countries.
It is also a crime to cover up criminal acts, but there are innumerable
examples of instances in which the CIA and the FBI conspired to inter-
fere with the criminal prosecution of drug dealers, murderers, and as-
sassins. In the death of Letellier, mentioned earlier, the FBI and the CIA
refused to cooperate with the prosecution of the DINA agents who mur-
dered Letellier (Dinges and Landau, 1980: 208--209). Those agencies were
also involved in the cover-up of the criminal activities of a Cuban exile,
Ricardo (Monkey) Morales. While an employee of the FBI and the CIA,
Morales planted a bomb on an Air Cubana flight from Venezuela, which
killed 73 people. The Miami police confirmed Morales's claim that he
was acting under orders from the CIA (Lernoux, 1984: 188). In fact,
Morales, who was arrested for overseeing the shipment of 10 tons of
marijuana, admitting to being a CIA contract agent who conducted
bombings, murders, and assassinations. He was himself killed in a bar
after he made public his work with the CIA and FBI.
Colonel Muammar Qaddafi, like Fidel Castro, has been the target of
a number of assassination attempts and conspiracies by the V.S. gov-
ernment. One plot, the Washington Post reported, included an effort to
"lure fQaddafi] into some foreign adventure of terrorist exploit that
would give a growing number of Qaddafi opponents in the Libyan mil-
itary a chance to seize power, or such a foreign adventure might give one
of Qaddafi's neighbors, such as Algeria or Egypt, a justification for
 larger picture I had to extend my research to the United States, and,
eventually. to international connections betvveen organized criminal ac-
tivities and political and economic forces. This quest led me to research
in Sweden (Block and Chambliss, 1981), Nigeria (Chambliss, 1975b),
Thailand (Chambliss, 1977), and of course, the Americas.
My methods were adapted to meet the demands of the various sit-
uations I encountered. Interviews with people at all levels of criminal,
political, and law enforcement agencies provided the primary data base,
but they were supplemented always with data from official records,
government reports, congressional hearings, newspaper accounts (when
they could be checked for accuracy), archives, and special reports.
While continuing to research organized crime, I began a historical
study of piracy and smuggling. In the process of analyzing and begin-
ning to write on these subjects, I came to realize that I was, in essence,
studying the same thing in different time periods: Some of the piracy of
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was sociologically the same as
some of the organized criminal relations of today-both are examples of
state-organized crime.
At the root of the inquiry is the question of the relationship among
criminality, social structure, and political economy (Petras, 1977;
Schwendinger and Schwendinger, 1975; Tilly, 1985). In what follows, I (1)
describe the characteristics of state-organized crime that bind acts that
are unconnected by time and space but are connected sociologically, (2)
suggest a theoretical framework for understanding those relationships,
and (3) give specific examples of state-organized crime.
STATE·ORGANIZED CRIME DEFINED
TIle most important type of criminality organized by the state consists of
acts defined by law as criminal and committed by state officials in the
pursuit of their job as representatives of the state. Examples include a
state's complicity in piracy, smuggling, assassinations, criminal con-
spiracies, acting as an accessory before or after the fact, and violating
laws that limit their activities, In the latter category would be included
the use of illegal methods of spying on citizens, diverting funds in ways
prohibited by law (e.g., illegal campaign contributions, selling arms to
countries prohibited by law, and supporting terrorist activities).
State-organized crime does not include criminal acts that benefit
only individual officeholders, such as the acceptance of bribes or the il-
legal use of violence by the police against individuals, unless such acts
violate existing criminal law and are official policy. For example, the
current policies of torture and random violence by the police in South
Africa are incorporated under the category of state-organized crime be-
cause, apparently, those practices are both state policy and in violation of
existing South African law. On the other hand, the excessive use of vio-
lence by the police in urban ghettoes is not state-organized crime for it
lacks the necessary institutionalized policy of the state.
PIRACY
In the history of criminality, the state-supported piracy that occurred
betvveen the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries is an outstanding ex-
ample of state-organized crime (Andrews, 1959, 1971).
When Christopher Columbus came to the Americas in search of
wealth and spices in 1492, he sailed under the flag of SpaIn although
he himself was from Genoa. Vasco da Gama followed Columbus 6 years
later, sailing under the Portuguese flag. Behtveen Spain and Portugal, a
vast new world was conquered and quickly colonized. The wealth of
silver and gold was beyond their wildest dreams. A large, poorly armed
native American population made the creation of a slave labor force for
mining and transporting the precious metals an easy task for the better
armed Spanish and Portuguese setUers willing to sacrifice human life for
wealth. Buttressed by the unflagging belief that they were not only en-
riching their motherland and themselves but also converting the hea-
thens to Christianity, Spanish and Portuguese colonists seized the
opportunity to denude the newly found lands of their wealth and their
people (Lane-PooIe, 1890). Portugal, as a result of Vasco da Gama's voy-
ages, also established trade routes with India that gave it a franchise on
spices and tea. Portuguese kings thus became the "royal grocers of Eu-
rope" (Howes, 1615; Collins, 1955).
In Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, nation-
states were embroiled in intense competition for control of territory and
resources. Then, as now, military power was the basis for expansion
and the means by which nation-states protected their borders. Military
might, in turn, depended on labor and mineral resources, especially
gold and silver. The wealthier nations could afford to invest in more
powerful military weapons, especially larger and faster ships, and to
hire mercenaries for the army and navy. Explorations cost money as
well. When Spain and Portugal laid claim to the Americas, they also re-
fused other nations the right to trade with their colonies (Mainwaring,
1616). Almost immediately, conflict developed between Spain and Por-
tugal, but the pope intervened and drew a line dividing the New World
into Spanish and Portuguese sectors, thereby ameliorating the conflict.
But the British, French, and Dutch were not included in the pope's
 11JUlll..::> dHU '-.-1<1:;':;' UL ULt:! .:JLUUY UI Ut:!VlclIH.:e

DISCUSSION
responcling to Qaddafi militarily" (the Wasltillgtoll Post, April 14, 1986).
111e CIA recommended "stimulating" Qaddafi's fall "by encouraging Elsewhere I have suggested a general theory to account for variations in
disaffected elements in the Libyan army who could be spurred to as- types and frequency of crime (Chambliss, 1988a). The starting point for
sassination attempts" (the Guardian, November 20,1985: 6). that theory is the assumption that in every era political, economic, and
Opposition to government policies can be a very risky business, as social relations contain certain inherent contradictions, which produce
the ecology group Greenpeace discovered when it opposed French nu- conflicts and dilemmas that people struggle to resolve. TIle study of state-
clear testing in the Pacific. In the fall of 1985 the French government organized crime brings into sharp relief the necessity of understanding
planned a series of atomic tests in the South Pacific. Greenpeace sent its the role of contradictions in the formation and implementation of law.
flagship to New Zealand with instructions to sail into the area where Contradictions inherent in the formation of states create conditions
the atomic testing was scheduled to occur. Before the ship could arrive under which there will be a tendency for state officials to violate the
at the scene, however, the French secret service located the ship in the crirninallaw. State officials inherit from the past laws that were not of
harbor and blew it up. The blast from the bomb killed one of the crew. their making and that were the result of earlier efforts to resolve conflicts
wrought by structural contradictions (Chambliss, 1980; Chambliss and
Seidrnan, 1982), The inherited laws nonetheless represent the foundation
OTHER STATE·ORGANIZED CRIMES on which the legitimacy of the state's authority depends. These laws
also provide a basis for attempts by the state to control the acts of others
Every agency of govel;TlIllent is restricted by law in certain fundamental and to justify the use of violence to that end,
ways. Yet s~:tural pressures exist that can push agencies to go beyond For England in the sixteenth century, passing laws to legitimize pira-
their .le?,al rn:ruts, TIle C~, for example, is not permitted to engage in do- cy for English pirates while condemning as criminal the piracy of others
mestic mtelligence. DespIte this, the CIA has opened and photographed against England would have been an untenable solution, just as it would
the mail ~f over 1 million private citizens (Rockefeller Report, 1975: undermine the legitimacy of America's ideological and political posi-
101-115), illegally entered people's homes, and conducted domestic sur- tion to pass legislation allowing for terrorist acts on the part of U.s. of-
veillance through electronic devices (Parenti, 1983: 170-171). ficials while condemning and punishing the terrorism of others,
Agencies of the government also carmot legally conduct experi- Law is a two-edged sword; it creates one set of conflicts while it at-
ments o~ human subjects that violate civil rights or endanger the lives of tempts to resolve another, The passage of a particular law or set of laws
the subJects. But the CIA conducted experiments on unknowing sub- may resolve conflicts and enhance state control, but it also limits the
jects by hiring prostitutes to administer drugs to their clients. CIA- legal activities of the state, State officials are thus often caught behveen
trained medical doctors and psychologists observed the effects of the conflicting demands as they find themselves constrained by laws that in-
drugs through a two-way mirror in expensive apartments furnished to terfere with other goals demanded of them by their roles or their per-
the prostitutes by the CIA. At least one of tl1e victims of these experi· ception of what is in the interests of the state. There is a contradiction,
ments dIed and others suffered considerable trauma (Anderson and then, between the legal prescriptions and the agreed goals of state agen-
WhiHen, 1976; Crewdson and 11lOmas, 1977; Jacobs 1977a, 1977b). cies. Not everyone caught in this dilemma will opt for violating the law,
The most flagrant violation of civil rights by federal agencies is the but some will. Those who do are the perpetrators, but not the cause, of
FBI's counter~telligenc~ program, known as COINTELPRO. This pro- the persistence of state-organized crime.
gra~ was desl~ed to dISrupt, harass, and discredit groups that the FBI
When Spain and Portugal began exploiting the labor and natural
decld.~d wer,e ~ ~ome, way "un-American." Such groups included the
resources of the Americas and Asia, other European nations were quick
~me~lcan CIVil LIbertIes Union, antiwar movements, civil rights orga-
to realize the implications for their own power and sovereignty. France~
n:-zations, and a host of other legally constituted political groups whose
England, and Holland were powerful nations, but not powerful enough
VIews opposed some of the policies of the United States (Church Corn·
at the time to challenge Spain and Portugal clirectly. The dilemma for
mittee, 1976). With tl1e exposure of COINTELPRO, the group was clis.
those nations was how to share in the wealth and curtail the power of
b.a~ded. ~ere 15 eVlde~ce, however, that the illegal surveillance ofU.S,
Spain and Portugal without going to war. A resolution to the dilemma
CItizens dId not stop WIth the abolition of COINTELPRO but continues
was forged through cooperation with pirates. Cooperating with pirates,
today (Klein, 1988).
 YOlltICS and Class in the Study of Deviance
however, required violating their own laws as well as the laws of other
countries. In this way, the states organized crimlnality for their own
ends without undermining their claim to legitimacy or their ability to
condemn and punish piracy committed against them.
It should be noted that some monarchs in the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries Games I England, for example) refused to cooperate
with pirates no matte how profitable it would have been for the Crown.
So, too, not all CIA or NSC personnel organize criminal activities in pur-
suit of state goals.
The impetus for the crirrrinality of European states that engaged in
piracy was the need to accumulate capital in the early stages of capital-
ist formation. State-organized criminality did not disappear, however,
with the emergence of capitalism as the dominant economic system of
the world. Rather, contemporary state-organized crime also has its roots
in the ongoing need for capital accumulation of modem nation-states,
whether the states be socialist capitalist, or mixed economies.
Sociologically, then, the most important characteristics of state-or-
ganized crime in the modern world are at one with characteristics of
state-organized crime in the early stages of capitalist development.
Today. states organize smuggling, assassinations, covert operations, and
conspiracies to criminally assault citizens, political activists, and politi-
calleaders perceived to be a threat. These acts are as criminal in the
laws of the nations perpetrating them as were the acts of piracy in which
European nations were complicitous.
At the most general level, the contradictions that are the force be-
hind state-organized crime today are the same as those that were the
impetus for piracy in sixteenth-century Europe. The accumulation of
capital determines a nation's power, wealth, and survival today, as it
did 300 years ago. The state must provide a climate and a set of inter-
national relations that facilitate this accumulation if it is to succeed. State
officials will be judged in accordance with their ability to create these
conditions.
But contradictory ideologies and demands are the very essence of
state formations. The laws of every nation-state inhibit officials from
maximizing conditions conducive to capital accumulation at the same
time that they facilitate the process. Laws prohibiting assassination and
arms smuggling enable a government to control such acts when they
are inimical to their interests. When such acts serve the interests of the
state, however, then there are pressures that lead some officials to behave
crinUnaHy. Speaking of the relationship among the NSC, the CIA, and
drug trafficking, Senator John Kerry, chairman of the Senate Foreign Re-
l~tions Subcommittee on Terrorism, Narcotics and International Opera-
tions, pinpointed the dilemma when he said "stopping drug trafficking
37. William j. Chambliss 551
to the United States has been a secondary U.S. foreign policy objective.
It has been sacrificed repeatedly for other political goals" (Senat~ Hear-
ings, 1986). He might have added that engaging in drug trafficking and
arms smuggling has been a price government agencies have been will-
ing to pay "for other political goals." .
These contradictions create conflicts betw-een nation-states as well as
internally among the branches of government. Today, we see nations
such as Turkey, Bolivia, Colombia, Peru, Panama, and the Bahamas en-
couraging the export of illegal drugs while condemning them publicly.
At the same time, other government agencies cooperate in the export
and import of illegal arms and drugs to finance subversive and terrorist
activities. Governments plot and carry out assassinations and illegal
acts against their own citizens in order to "preserve democracy" while
supporting the most undemocratic institutions imaginable. In the
process, the contradictions that create the conflicts and dilemmas re-
main untouched and the process goes on indefinitely.
A U.5. State Deparbnent report (1985) illustrates, perhaps, the logi-
cal outcome of the institutionalization of state-organized crime in the
modern world. In this report the State Department offered to stop crim-
inal acts against the Nicaraguan gover~ent in return for concessior:s
from Nicaragua. l11fee hundred years earlier England, France, and Spam
signed a treaty by which each agreed to suppress its piracy against the
others in return for certain guarantees of economic and political sover-
eignty.
CONCLUSION
My concern here is to point out the importance of studying state-orga-
nized crime. Although I have suggested some theoretical notions that
appear to me to be promising, the more important goal is to raise the
issue for further study. The theoretical and empirical problems raised by
advocating the study of state-organized crime are, h?weve~, formida~l:.
Data on contemporary examples of state-orgaruzed cnme are dIffr-
cult to obtain. The data I have been able to gather depend on sources
that must be used cautiously. Government hearings, court trials, inter-
views, newspaper accounts, and historical documents are replete with
problems of validity and rellability. In my view they are no more so
than conventional research methods in the social sciences, but that does
not alter the fact that there is room for error in interpreting the findings.
It will require considerable imagination and diligence for others to pur-
sue research on this topic and add to the empirical base from which the-
oretical propositions can be tested and elaborated.
552 Politics and Gass in the Study of Deviance
We need to explore different political, economic, and social systems
in varying historical periods to discover why some forms of social or-
ganization are more likely to create state-organized crimes than others.
We need to explore the possibility that some types of state agencies are
more prone to engaging in criminality than others. It seems likely, for ex-
ample, that state agencies whose activities can be hidden from scrutiny
are more likely to engage in criminal acts than those whose record is
public. This principle may also apply to whole nation-states: the more
open the society, the less likely it is that state-organized crime will be-
come institutionalized.
There are also important parallels between state-organized crimi-
nality and the criminality of police and law enforcement agencies gen-
erally. Local police departments that find it more useful to cooperate
with criminal syndicates than to combat them are responding to their
own particular contradictions, conflicts, and dilemmas (Chambliss,
1988b). An exploration of the theoretical implications of these similarities
could yield some important findings.
The issue of state-organized crime raises again the question of how
crime should be defined to be scientifically useful. For the purposes of
this analysis, I have accepted the conventional criminological definition
of crime as acts that are in violation of the criminal law. This definition
has obvious limitations (see Schwendinger and Schwendinger, 1975),
and the study of state-organized crime may facilitate the development of
a more useful definition by underlying the interrelationship between
crime and the legal process. At the very least, the study of state-orga-
nized crime serves as a reminder that crime is a political phenomenon
and must be analyzed accordingly.
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1976 The erA's "sex squad." The Washington Post, June 22:B13.
Andrews, KR
1959 English Privateering Voyages to the West Indies 1598-1695. Ser. 11./
vol.111. London: HakluytSociety.
1971 The Last Voyage of Drake and Hawkins. New York: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
Block, AIm A., and William J. Chambliss
1981 Organizing Crime. New York: Elsevier.
British Museum
1977 Sir Francis Drake. London: British Museum Publications.
37. William j. Chambliss 553
Chambliss, William).
1968 The tolerance policy: An invitation to organized crime. Seattle Octo-
ber: 23-31.
1971 Vice, corruption, bureaucracy and power. Wisconsin Law Review 4:1,
150-1,173.
1975a On the paucity of original research on organized crime: A footnote to
Galliher and Cain. The American Sociologist 10:36-39.
1975b Toward a political economy of crime. Theory and Society 2:149-170.
1977 Markets, profits, labor and smack Contemporary Crises 1:53-57.
1980 On lawmaking. British Journal of Law and Society 6:149-172.
1988a Exploring Criminology: New York: Macmillian.
1988b On the Take: From Petty Crooks to Presidents. Revised ed. Blooming-
ton: Indiana University Press,
Chambliss, William J., and Robert B. Seidman
1982 Law, Order and Power. Rev. ed. Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley.
Church Committee
1976 Intelligence Activities and the Rights of Americans. Washington,
D.e.: Goverrunent Printing Office.
Commonwealth of New South Wales
1982a New South Wales Joint Task Force on Drug Trafficking. Federal Par-
liament Report. Sydney: Government of New South Wales.
1982b Preliminary Report of the Royal Cormnission to Investigate the
Nugan Hand Bank Failure. Federal Parliament Report. Sydney: Gov-
ernment of New South Wales.
Corbett, Julian S.
1898.. Drake and the Tudor Anny. 2 vols. London: Longmans, Green.
189Bb Paper Relating to the Navy during the Spanish War, 1585-1587. Vol.
11, London: Navy Records Society.
Crewdson, John M., and Jo Thomas
1977 Abuses in testing of drugs by CIA to be panel focus. The New York
Tunes, September 20.
de La Croix, Robert
1962 John Paul Janes. London: Frederik Muller.
Dinges, John/ and Saul Landau
1980 Assassination on Embassy Row. New York: McGraw-Hill.
1982 The CIA's link to Chile's plot. The Nation, June 12:712-713.
Exquemling, AD.
1670 De Americanaenshe Zee-Roovers. MS. 301. London, British Museum.
Goulden, Joseph C.
1984 Death Merchant The Brutal True Story of Edwin P. Wilson. New
York: Simon and Schuster.
Hersh, Seymour Owen,John
1979 Ex-analyst says CIA rejected warning on Shah. The New York TImes, 1983 Sleight of Hand, The $25 Million Nugan Hand Bank Scandal. Syd-
January 7:AI0. Cited in Piers Beirne and James Messersclunidt, ney: Calporteur Press.
Criminology. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, forthcoming. Parenti, Michael
Hougan,Jim 1983 Democracy for the Few. New York: St. Martin's
1978 Spooks: The Haunting of Amercia-The Private Use of Secret Agents. Petras, James
New York William Morrow. 1977 Chile: Crime, class consciousness and the bourgeoisie. Crime and
1984 Secret Agenda: Watergate, Deep Throat, and the CIA. New York Social Justice 7:14-22
Random House.
Potter, Gary W., and Bruce Bullington
Jacabs, John 1987 Drug Trafficking and the Contras: A Case Study of State-Organized
1977a The diaries of a CIA operative. The Washington Post, September 5:1. Crime. Paper presented at annual meeting of the American Society of
1977b Turner cites 149 drug-test projects. The Washington Post, August 4:1. Criminology, Montreal.
Klein, Lloyd Ritchie, Robert C.
1988 Big Brother Is Still Watching You. Paper presented at the annual 1986 Captain Kidd and the War Against the Pirates. Cambridge, Mass:
meetings of the American Society of Criminology, Chicago, Novem-_ Harvard University Press.
ber 12.
Rockefeller Report
Kruger, Henrik 1975 Report lo the President by the Commission on CIA Activities within
1980 The Great Heroin Coup. Boston: South End Press. the United States. Washington, D.e.: Government Printing Office.
Kwitny, Jonathan Schwendinger, Herman, and Julia Schwendinger
1987 The Crimes of Patriots. New York: W.W. Norton. 1975 Defenders of order or guardians of human rights. Issue in Criminolo-
Lane-PooIe gy 7,72--81-
1890 The Barbary Corsairs. London: T. Fisher Unwin. -Senate Hearings
LeGolif, Louis 1986 Senate Select Committee on Assassinations, Alleged Assassination
1680 The Manuscripts of Louis LeGolif alias Borgnefesse. London, British ~\()\:s 1nva\vID.'b llCl'te,-~ \.eade:rs.1n'te.nro. Re:PQ'tt o~ the Senate Select
Museum. c.."'i'{ro:ffi\.\ee \0 S'ru.Q'j C:.Q'Je."[(\ID.eu\a\. ~e:tau-Cl'N; 'N\'ffi."%s!~it'ec..\ \0 m\e\-
ligence Activities. 94th Cong., 1st sess., November '20. "Wasnmgton,
Lemoux, Penny
1984 The Miami connection. The Nation, February 18:186-198.
o.e.: Government Printing Office.
Senior, CM.
MacIntyre,OonaId
1976 A Nation of Pirates: English Piracy in its Heyday. London: David and
1975 The Privateers. London: Paul Elek.
Charles Newton Abbot
Mainwaring, Henry
Sharkey, Jacqueline
1616 Of the Beginnings, Practices, and Suppression of Pirates. No publish-
1988 The Contra-drug trade eH. Common Cause Magazine,
er acknowledged.
September-October: 23-33
McCord, James W" Jr.
Ttlly, Charles
1974 A Piece of Tape. Rockville, MD.: Washington Media Services.
1985 War making and state making as organized crime. In. P. Evans, D.
McCoy, Alfred W. Rueshemeyer, and T. Skocpol (eds.), Bringing the State Back rn. Cam-
1973 The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia. New York: Harper & Row. bridge: Cambridge University Press.
NARMIC Turner, Stansfield
1984 Military Exports to South Africa: A Research Report on the Arms Em- 1985 Secrecy and Democracy: The CIA in Transition. New York: Houghton
bargo. Philadelphia: American Friends Service Committee. Mifflin.
Nihill, Grant
1982 Bank links to spies, drugs. The AdVertiser, November 10:1.
 556 Politics and Class in the Study of Deviance
US Department of State
1985 Revolution Beyond Our Border: Information on Central America.
State Department Report N 132. Washington, D.e.: U.S. Department
of State.
Verrill, A. Hyatt
1924 Smugglers and Smuggling. New York: Ouffield.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The historical documents used for the research on piracy were provided by the
British Museum Library, the Frankling D. Roosevelt Library in New York, Co-
lumbia University Library, and the Naval Archives. For the more recent hap-
penings and machinations of the CIA, DEA, and other government agencies,
the primary data bases are confidential interviews with people involved in the
events described, or people closely associated with tile events, and information
obtained through Freedom of Information requests. Attribution to people who
generously gave tileir time and in some cases took risks for the sake of provid-
ing a better understanding of the world we live in is, of course, impossible.
Where possible the information forthcoming from the interviews has been sup-
plemented by reference to published government documents, newspaper re-
ports, and verifiable research.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This research owes a debt to 50 many people it is impossible to acknowledge
them all. TIle many informants and officials who cooperated with various parts
of the research and the librarians who helped uncover essential historical doc-
uments must come first. I am also deeply indebted to Raquel Kennedy, Pemille,
Baadsager, Richard Appelbaum, Marjorie Zatz, Alan Block, Jim Petras, Ray
!vlichalowski, Stan Cohen, Hi Schwendinger, Tony PlaH, and Martha Huggins for
their insights and help at many stages in the development of the research. I am
also indebted to a confidential donor who helped support the research effort in
Thailand during 1974.
NOTE
1. It was Shackley who, along with Rafael "Chi Chi" QUintero, a Cuban-
American, forged the plot to assassinate Fidel Castro by using orgaruzed-
crime figures Santa Trafficante, Jr., John Roselli, and Sam Giancana.
CHAPTER VIII
New Directions in
Deviance Theory
The thematic structure of this final chapter differs somewhat from that
of the preceding chapters. Rather than focusing on a single explanation
of deviance with a distinct theoretical frame of reference, these readings
represent what we consider to be new developments in the sociology of
deviance. We are not suggesting that the earlier approaches are no
longer valid, nor do we believe that the current state of theorizing about
deviance has resulted in disorganized eclecticism." While no particular
IJ
theory has dominated the field over the past ten years or so, it is clear
that exciting new developments, questions, and methodologies are being
employed in the study of deviance. Our objective is to introduce some of
these recent trends, as well as to examine the relationships that exist be-
tween the more established theories and the new directions in the liter-
ature about deviance.
During the latter part of the nineteenth century and the beginning of
the twentieth, biological and psychological explanations predominated
in most thought about the cause of crime. These perspectives proposed
that the deviant (e.g., the criminal) differs from the nondeviant in terms
of significant anatomical, physiological, or personality traits or charac-
teristics. Social scientists in general, and criminologists in particular,
have been quick to point out the shortcomings of biological explana-
tions of deviance. For the most part, criticisms of these approaches have
focused on, among other things, the inability to account for variations in
rates of crime (in terms of such variables as geography, age, sex, ethnic-
ity, race, and social class), the threat to liberal ideology, and the possi-
bility of abuses resulting from the politicization of these approaches.
Concern with the possible political implications of biological and
psychological explanations for deviance is most clearly directed at the
trend to medicalize deviance. Some sociologists suggest that by con-
558 New Directions in Deviance Theory
centrating too much attention on biological and psychological traits and
characteristics and too little on social causes, deviance and the deviant
person have been defined in medical terms, and they have been brought
increasingly under the control of medical practitioners in psychiatry
and public health. In Reading 38, Peter Contad and Joseph W. Schneider
note that during the twentieth century various forms of problematic be-
havior that previously had been conceptualized as sin, moral problems,
or crimes have been redefined in terms of illness. 1Ilis implies not only
a shift in explanations of the cause of deviance to an illness analogy
(e.g., behavior is the result of illness, not choice, so that deviants are not
responsible for their actions), but also a change in public policy to the
view that deviance is a disorder that can be "treated" in ways similar to
medical illness. In this vein, a number of behavioral categories, such as
alcoholism, childhood hyperactivity, transsexualism, child abuse and
family violence, homosexuality, mental disorders, and learning disabil-
ities have been medicalized. 1
In reconceptualizing deviance as illness, this therapeutic view has
given rise to a new control system comprising a vast array of profes-
sions and professionals (e.g., physicians, psychologists, counselors, and
specialists in child abuse). Conrad and Schneider define medical social
control of deviant behavior as "some variants of medical intervention
that seeks to eliminate, modify, isolate, or regulate behavior socially de-
fined as deviant, with medical means and in the name of health." They
assert that this new form of social control is replete with problems, not
the least of which is that when society does not hold people accountable
for their actions, it also does not deal with deviant behavior as a moral
problem. If in the perspective of medical social control, public debate
about the social causes and moral issues involved in the designation
and control of deviant behavior is cut off, deviance may become what-
ever medical professionals consider it to be; its control or prevention is
then their responsibility.
Conrad and Sclmeider maintain that once deviant behavior has been
medicalized, individuals' responsibility for tl1eir actions is assumed to be
beyond their control. In this view, deviants are unable to make moral
choices between right and wrong, so their behavior lacks motivation.
Solutions for deviance therefore concentrate on the individual. The is-
sues of personal responsibility and societal solutions for deviance ad-
vanced by critics of the medicalization perspective have a long history in
sociological explanations of deviance and crime; they have been of para-
mount concern to sociologists and criminologists since at least the mid-
eighteenth century. These issues have their origin in classical theory, in
which deviance and crime are viewed as a rational COurse of action.
Modem variations of this view are taken up in U1e next three selections,
New Directions in Deviance Theory 559
which focus on the routine activities of people and the choices they
make in deciding whether to deviate or conform.
One variation of classical theory is the "routine activity model dis-
cussed by Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson in Reading 39. Like the
rational choice perspective, which is discussed in the next selection, this
view posits that individuals who commit crimes are motivated to do
so. Further, the motivation to commit a crime, specifically "direct-contact
predatory violations" (violent crime against the person or direct-con-
tact property crime), is mostly related to the "certainty, celerity and
value of rewards to be gained from illegal predatory acts."
In Cahen and Felson's routine activity approach, crime and crime
rate trends are seen as a function or reflection of people's daily activities.
Rates of crime and their distribution thus are related not only to the mo-
tivation of offenders but also to the availability of suitable targets and
the absence of capable guardians who can provide protection against
victimization. Accordingly, predatory crime is more likely to occur when
motivated offenders find themselves in close proximity to suitable tar-
gets that are not well protected (e.g., women jogging in sparsely popu-
lated public parks or easily transportable goods in homes unguarded
for significant periods). Cohen and Felson suggest that the rise in crime
rates betvveen the early 19605 and early 1990s may be related more to
these factors than to those that are characteristic of more conventional
theories of criminality; which emphasize lack of social control, disorga-
nization, blockages of opportunity structures, and other structural char-
acteristics of American society.
Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (Reading 40) articulate a
"rational choice" perspective on crime in which it is assumed that "of-
fenders seek to benefit themselves by their criminal behavior; that this
involves the making of decisions and choices, however rudimentary on
occasions these choices might be; and that these processes, constrained
as they are by time, the offender's cognitive abilities, and by the avail-
ability of relevant information, exhibit limited rather than normative
rationality." In the rational choice perspective, therefore, certain types of
offenders choose to commit specific crimes for specific reasons, after
considering the range of the proposed crime's choice-structuring prop-
erties.
Cornish and Clarke suggest that decisions about whether or not to
violate the law are based on the potential offender's calculation of al-
ternatives, opportunities, and potential payoffs (offender specificity),
and of the characteristics of the situation, skills needed, and the rela-
tion of the offender's own needs and motivates to the crime (offense
specificity). The rational choice perspective is concerned not only with
the decision-making process involved in committing a specific crime
560 New Directions in Deviance TI1eory
such as robbery, murder, or rape, however. It also has to do with fac-
tors associated with switching from one type of offense to another, in-
volvement in crime as a career, the decision to halt criminal behavior, the
ineffectiveness of rehabilitative policies, and the development of crime
prevention strategies that focus on the situational character of specific of-
fenses.
Another variation of the rational choice theme is found in Reading 4l.
According to some theorists, one of the problems with mainstream so-
ciological theories of deviance is that they often fail to account for psy-
chological factors in people's behavior. This point is elaborated more
fully by james Q. Wilson and Richard Herrnstein in Reading 41, an ex-
cerpt from their book, Crime and HI/man Nature. They propose an eclec-
tic or integrative theory that focuses on the effect of biosocial factors
(e.g., l.Q.), psychological traits (e.g., introversion), and structural vari-
ables (e.g., anomie) and how they interact with one another leading to a
rational choice by an individual to either deviate or conform. Of course
this does not imply that people, l/ •••unconsciously deliberate about what
to do." Rather, "behavior is determined by its consequences."
According to Wilson and Herrnstein, lithe larger the ratio of the net
rewards of crime, to the net rewards of noncrime, the greater the ten-
dency to commit the crime." The choice then is based on the rewarding
effects of a decision to engage in deviance rather than conforming be-
havior and the reinforcing effect of the reward. Biological, psychological,
and sociological factors and conditions combined with the perceived
consequences (e.g., rewards) of an individual's actions thus influence
the decision to deviate or conform.
A somewhat different view of deviance is presented by John Hagan,
A. R. Gillis, and john Simpson (Reading 42). They propose a power-
control theory of delinquency based on a neoMarixian view of social
class relations and its effect on gender and involvement in delinquency.
The authors call for expanding research to include" ... more common as
well as mare serious forms of delinquency" in order to better explain
how parents' employment influences family relations and, ultimately,
the relationship between gender, risk taking, and delinquency. In this
study they found that in more egalitarian households, based on both
parents having more control and authority at work, children are less
lli<ely to be subjected to stringent controls characteristic of more tradi-
tional patriarchal households. This is particularly true for young women
in egalitarian households where they are not as likely to be subject to tra-
ditional sex-role socialization patterns. Greater freedom in child-rear-
ing practices is associated with greater risk talUng, and, ultimately, these
women are more likely to engage in common forms of delinquency, and
their rate of involvement also more nearly equal the rate of delinquency
New Directions in Deviance Theory 561
involvement for boys in these households. Thus, class pOSition influ-
ences family social relations and the type of social control to which chil-
dren are subjected. Those parents with more authority at work provide
their children with more autonomy, and these children, females as well
as males, are more likely to engage in behavior that may be viewed as
delinquent.
Sally S. Simpson's article, "Feminist Theory, Crime, and justice"
(Reading 43), differs from the other perspectives we have presented in
this book in terms of its main focus. Her discussion of feminist theory
points out that "It would be a mistake, ... , to think of feminism as a sin-
gle theory." Rather, feminism is a world view that includes a number of
different perspectives that attempt to explain gender inequality and its
relationship to the behavior and responses to .the behavior of both fe-
males and males. Her paper includes not only an overview of these dif-
ferent perspectives but also criticism of the major theories of deviance
and crime, including some of the contemporary explanations such as
Hagan, Gillis, and Simpson's piece (Reading 42) on power-control the-
ory. nus criticism is echoed by Chesney-Lind who notes that power-
control theory, for all its good intentions, is basically a liberal feminist
explanation of girls' delinquency that argues" ... that mothers' work
force parlicipation (particularly high status occupations) leads to in-
creases in daughters' delinquency since these girls find themselves in
more 'egalitarian families'."2
In discussing the inadequacies of various academic explanations of
female crime, Simpson points out that most theories and research have
focused primarily on males, thus failing to examine the full range of
juvenile and adult rnisbehavior in this society. The problem with
these approaches is that they " .. .form the core of 'general' theories of
crime/deviance without taking female experience, as crime participant
or victim into account." In this sense, they fail to consider whether ex-
planations of deviance that focus on males can be extended to explain fe-
male deviance. These theoretical models and resulting research have
generally failed to investigate how gender socialization and inequality
affect the lives of females (and males) as perpetrators and victims of
crime, as well as how the entire criminal justice system (the police,
courts, and correctional institutions) is gendered" and how these agen-
11
cies of social control reinforce the prevailing view of a woman's place in
SOciety.
Simpson calls for additional research that focuses on gender and
how a capitalist and patriarchal system influence's woman's deviance.
While acknowledging that feminist criminology has come a long way in
the past twenty years, future analysis and explanations of female crime
should target areas in the field of criminology that have not been fully
 ~~'- •• '-'H<;'-'~U11:'UI LJt;'Vlance lrteory
investigated. This research-on women of calor, the effects of deter-
rence, white collar, corporate, and the involvement (or, lack of it) of
women in organized crime-is needed for a fuller understanding of a
woman's b~havior a~d should be informed by feminist perspectives.
In the final selectIOn (Reading 44), John Braithwaite attempts to in-
tegrate ideas from many sociological theories and develop a general
theo:r that f?cuses on shaming, interdependency, and positive reactions
to rrusbehavlOr as a means of controlling deviance. In the selection from
Cri1J1e, S/U/:l1e, and Reintegration, Braithwaite goes beyond labeling theo-
:r'S asserllOn that stigmatization produces a deviant self-concept lead-
~ng to r?le engulfment and career deviance. In this provocative and
~~egratIve theory, we see that the shame of labeling is most effective if
It IS followed by reintegration efforts to help keep deviants within the
larger community rath~r than permanently isolating them by treating
them as outcasts. Sharrung can be beneficial when it is based on a com-
mitment among members of a community to reintegrate the deviant
after he or she has been punished. To do othenvise is to create conditions
sufficient for continued deviance. Reintegrative shaming also is most
effective in "communitarian" cultures and among people who are well
integrated ("interdependent") with others.
NOTES
1. Herb Haines, "Primum Non Nocere: Chemical Execution and the Limits
of Medical Social ControI," Sacinl Problems, 36, 5 (December 1989):442--454.
2. Meda Chesney-Lind, "Girls' Crime and Woman's Place: Toward a Femi-
nist Model of Female Delinquency," Crime & DelillqlleIlCt/, 35, 1
(1989)5-29. . Ehrenreich, 1975), and some analysts have expressed conce~ at the ~­
38. Peler Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 563
38 Medicine as an Institution of Social Cont1"O!:
Consequences for Society
PETER CONRAD and ]OSEPH W. SCHNEIDER
In our society we want to believe in medicine, as we want to believe ~
religion and our cOlmtry; it wards of collective fears an~ ~educes p~blic
anxieties (see Edelman, 1977). In significant ways medlcme, espe:lally
psychiatry, has replaced religion as the most powerful extralegal InSti-
tution of sodal control. Physicians have been endowed WIth some of
the charisma of shamans. In the 20th century the medical model of de-
viance has ascended with the glitter of a rising star, expanding medi-
cine's social control functions .... [We] focus directly on medicine as an
agent of social control. First, we illustrate the range and varieties of
medical social control. Next, we analyze the consequences of the med-
icalization of deviance and social control. Finally, we examine some
significant social policy questions pertaining to medicine and medical-
ization in American society.
TYPES OF MEDICAL SOCIAL CONTROL
Medicine was first conceptualized as an agent of social control by Talcott
Parsons (1951) in his seminal essay on the "sick role." ... Eli~t Freidson
(1970) and Irving Zola (1972) have elucidated the jurisdictional man-
date the medical profession has over anything that can be labeled an
illness, regardless of its ability to deal with it effectively. The bound-
aries of medicine are elastic and increasingly expansive (Ehrenrelc~ &
creasing medicalization of life (Illich, 1976). Although .medIcal SOCIal
control has been conceptualized in several ways, mc1udmg ~rofess~~n­
al control of colleagues (Freidson, 1975) and control of the rrucropolitics
Reprinted from Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider, "Medicine as an Ins.tit~tio~ of
Social Control: Consequences for Society," pp. 241-260 in Deviallce and Medlcalr::.ntlOl1: .
From Badness to Sickness (Philadelphia, Temple Univ. Press, 1993). © 1992 by Temple Um-
versity, Reprinted by permission of Temple University Press.
Adapted, amended, and extended discussion from P. Conrad, "Types of Social Con-
trol " Socil!l Health & Illness, 1979, 1.1-12, by permission of Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd.;
and' P. Conrad, "The Discovery of Hyperkinesis," Social Pmblellls, 1975, 23, 12-21. Por-
tions also taken from "Medicine" by P. Conrad and J. Schneider, in Social Control for the
19805: A Handbook for Order ill a Democratic Sociehj, edited by Joseph S. Roucek, 1978, pp.
346-358, used with the permission of the publisher, Greenwood Press, Inc., ~es~ort,
Conn., and our forthcoming article in Contemporary Crises, reprinted by penmsslOn of
Elsevier Scientific Publishing Co., Amsterdam.
 564 New Directions in Deviance Theory
of physician-patient interaction (Waitzkin & Stoeckle 1976), the focus
f
here is narrower. Our concern .. .is with the medical control of deviant
behavior, an aspect of the medicalization of deviance (Conrad, 1975;
Pitts, 1968). Thus by medical social control we mean the ways in which
medicine functions (wittingly or unwittingly) to secure adherence to
social norms-specifically, by using medical means to minimize, elim-
inate, or normalize deviant behavior. This section illustrates and cata-
logues the broad range of medical controls of deviance and in so doing
conceptualizes three major "ideal types" of medical social controL
On the most abstract level medical social control is the acceptance
of a medical perspective as the dominant definition of certain phe-
nomena. 'When medical perspectives of problems and their solutions
become dominant, they diminish competing definitions. This is partic-
ularly hue of problems related to bodily functiOning and in areas where
medical teclmology can demonstrate effectiveness (e.g., immunization,
contraception, antibacterial drugs) and is increasingly the case for be-
havioral and social problems (Mechanic, 1973). This underlies the con-
struction of medical norms (e.g., the definition of what is healthy) and
the "enforcement" of both medical and social norms. Medical social
control also includes medical advice, counsel, and information that are
part of the general stock of knowledge: for example, a well-balanced
~iet is important, cigarette smoking causes cancer, being overweight
mcreases health risks, exercising regularly is healthY" teeth should be
brushed regularly. Such directives, even when unheeded, serve as road
signs for desirable behavior. At a more concrete level, medical social
:ontrol is enacted through professional medical intervention, qua med-
Ical treatment (although it may include some types of self-treatment
such as self-medication or medically oriented self-help' groups). This
intervention aims at returning sick individuals to compliance with
health norms and to their conventional social roles, adjusting them to
new (e.g., impaired) roles, or, short of these, making individuals more
comfortable with their condition (see Freidson, 1970; Parsons, 1951).
Medical social control of deviant behavior is usually a variant of med-
ical intervention that seeks to eliminate, modify, isolate, or regulate be-
havior socially defined as deviant, with medical means and in the name
of health.
Traditionally, psychiatry and public health have served as the clear-
est examples of medical control. Psychiatry'S social control functions
with mental illness, especially in terms of institutionalization, have been
described clearly (e.g., Miller, 1976; Szasz, 1970). Recently it has been
argued that psychotherapy, because it reinforces dominant values and
adjusts people to their life situations, is an agent of social control and a
supporter of the status quo (HalIeck, 1971; Hurvitz, 1973). Public health's
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 565
mandate, the control and elimination of conditions and diseases that
are deemed a threat to the health of the community, is more diffuse. It
operates as a control agent by setting and enforcing certain "health"
standards in the home, workplace, and community (e.g., food, water,
sanitation) and by identifying, preventing, treating, and if necessary,
isolating persons with communicable diseases (Rosen, 1972). A clear ex-
ample of the latter is the detection of venereal disease. Indeed, public
health has exerted considerable coercive power in attempting to pre-
vent the spread of infectious disease.
There are a number of types of medical control of deviance. TIle
most common forms of medical social control include medicalizing de-
viant behavior-that is, defining the behavior as an illness or symptom
of an illness or underlying disease-and subsequent direct medical in-
tervention. This medical social control takes three general forms: medical
technology, medical collaboration, and medical ideology.
MEDICAL TECHNOLOGY
The growth of specialized medicine and the concomitant development
of medical teclmology has produced an annamentarium of medical con-
trols. Psychotechnologies, which include various forms of medical and
behavioral technologies (Chorover, 1973), are the most common means
of medical control of deviance. Since the emergence of phenothiazine
medications in the early 19505 for the treatment and control of mental
disorder, there has been a virtual explosion in the development and use
of psychoactive medications to control behavioral deviance: tranquiliz-
ers such as chlordiazepoxide (Librium) and diazepam (Valium) for anx-
iety, nervousness, and general malaise; stimulant medications for
hyperactive children; amphetamines for overeating and obesity; disul-
firam (Antabuse) for alcoholism; methadone for heroin, and many oth-
ers. I These pharmaceutical discoveries, aggressively promoted by a
highly profitable and powerful drug industry (Goddard, 1973), often
become the treatment of choice for deviant behavior. They are easily ad-
ministered under professional medical control, quite potent in their ef-
fects (i.e., controlling, modifying, and even eliminating behavior), and
are generally less expensive than other medical treatments and controls
(e.g., hospitalization, altering environments, long-term psychotherapy).
Psychosurgery, surgical procedures meant to correct certain "brain
dysfunctions" presumed to cause deviant behavior, was developed in
the early 1930s as prefrontal lobotomy, and has been used as a treat-
ment for mental illness. But psychosurgery fell into disrepute in the
early 1950s because the "side effects" (general passivit}r, difficulty with
abstract thinking) were deemed too undesirable, and many patients

remained institutionalized in spite of such treatments. Furthermore,
new psychoactive medications were becoming available to control the
mentally ill. By the middle 1950s, however, approximately 40,000 to
50,000 such operations were performed in the United States (Freeman,
1959). 1n the late 1960s a new and technologically more sophisticated
variant of psychosurgery (including laser technology and brain im-
plants) emerged and was heralded by some as a treatment for uncon-
trollable violent outbursts (Delgado, 1969; Mark & Ervin, 1970).
AltllOUgh psychosurgery for violence has been criticized from both with-
in as well as outside the medical profession (Chorover, 1974), and rela-
tively few such operations have been performed, in 1976 a blue-ribbon
national commission reporting to the Deparbnent of Health, Education
and Welfare endorsed the use of psychosurgery as having "potential
merit" and judged its risks "not excessive." This may encourage an in-
creased use of this form of medical control.2
Behavior modification, a psycho technology based on B.E Skinner's
and other behaviorists' learning theories, has been adopted by some
medical professionals as a treabnent modality. A variety of types and
variations of behavi or modification exist (e.g., token economies, tier sys-
tems, positive reinforcement schedules, aversive conditioning). While
they are not medical technologies per se, they have been used by physi-
CIans for the treatment of mental illness, mental retardation, homosexu-
ali~, ,?olenc~, hyperactive children, autism, phobias, alcoholism, drug
addiction, eating problems, and other disorders. An irony of the medical
use of behavior modification is that behaviorism explicitly denies the
medical model (that behavior is a symptom of illness) and adopts an
envIronmental, albeit still individual, solution to the problem. This has
not, however, hindered its adoption by medical professionals.
Human genetics is one of the most exciting and rapidly expanding
areas of medical knowledge. Genetic screening and genetic counseIing
are becoming more corrunonplace. Genetic causes are proposed for such
a variety of human problems as alcoholism, hyperactivity, learning dis-
abilities, schizophrenia, manic-depressive psychosis, homosexuality, and
mental retardation. At this time, apart from specific genetic disorders
~uch as ph::nylketanuria (P.KU) and certain forms of retardation, genet-
IC explanations tend to be general theories (i.e., at best positing "predis-
positions"), with only minimal empirical support, and are not at the
level ~t which medical intervention occurs. The most well-publicized
geneti~ theory of ~eviant behavior is that an XYY chromosome arrange-
ment IS a determmant factor in "criminal tendencies." Although this
XYY research has been criticized severely (e.g., Fox, 1971), the contro-
versy surrounding it may be a harbinger of things to come. Genetic
anomalies may be discovered to have a correlation with deviant behav-
__ . ~ --_~ ~-~--- --- )---r~' . ,- ---'-'--~
ior and may become a causal explanation for this behavior. Medical con-
trol, in the form of genetic counseling (Sorenson, 1974), may discour-
age parents from having offspring with a high risk (e.g., 25%) of genetic
impairment. Clearly the potentials for medical control go far beyond
present use; one could imagine the possibility of licensing sele.cted p.ar-
ents (with proper genes) to have children, and further marupulatmg
gene arrangements to produce or elim1nate certain traits.
MEDICAL COLLABORATION
Medicine acts not only as an independent agent of social control (as
above), but frequently medical collaboration with other authorities
serveS social control functions. Such collaboration includes roles as in-
formation provider, gatekeeper, institutional agent, and technician.
These interdependent medical control functions highlight the extent to
which medicine is interwoven in the fabric of society. Historically, med-
ical personnel have reported information on gunshot w.aunds ~d vene-
real disease to state authorities. More recently this has mduded
reporting "child abuse" to child welfare or law enforcement agencies
(FfohL 1977).
The medical profession is the official designator of the "sick role."
This imbues the physician with authority to define ~articular ~~s of
deviance as illness and exempt the patient from certam role obligations.
These are general gatekeeping and social control tasks. In ~ome inst~ces
the physician functions as a specific gate~eeper for spec~al exemptions
from conventional norms; here the exemptions are authonzed because of
illness, disease, or disability. A classic example is the so-called inS~ty
defense in certain crime cases. Other more commonplace examples m-
clude competency to stand trial, medical ~e!erment ~r~m ~e draft or a
medical discharge from the military; reqwrmg physlcIans notes to le-
gitimize missing an examination o~ ~xcessive abse~ce~ in, school, an~,
before abortion was legalized, obtauung hvO psychiatrIsts letters testi-
fying to the therapeutic necessity of th,; abortion. Halleck (1971) has
called this "the power of medical excuse. In a slightly diff~rent vem,.but
still forms of gatekeeping and medical excuse, are me.dlcal ex~mma­
tions for disability or workman'S compensation benefits. Medical. re-
ports required for insurance coverage and empl?yrnen.t or, m~dlcal
certification of an epileptic as seizure free to obtam a dnver s lIcense
are also gatekeeping activities. . .
Physicians in total institutions have one of hvo roles. In some mstI-
tutions such as schools for the retarded or mental hospitals, they are
usually'the administrative authority; in others, ~uch as in th:: ~t~ or
prisons, they are employees of the administration. In total mstitutions,
568 New Directions in Deviance Theory
medicine's role as an agent of social control (for the instilution) is more
apparent. In both the military and prisons, physicians have the power to
confer the sick role and to offer medical excuse for deviance (see Daruels,
1969; Waitzkin & Waterman, 1974). For example, discharges and sick
call are available medical designations for deviant behavior. Since physi-
cians are both hired and paid by the institution, it is difficult for them to
be fully an agent of the patient, engendering built-in role strains. An ex-
treme example is in wartime when the physician's mandate is to return
the soldier to combat duty as soon as possible. Under some circum-
stances physicians act as direct agents of control by prescribing med-
ications to control unruly or disorderly inmates or to help a "neurotic"
adjust to the conditions of a total institution. In such cases "captive pro-
fessionals" (Daniels, 1969) are more likely to become the agent of the
institution than the agent of the individual patient (Szasz, 1965; see also
Menninger, 1967).
Under rather rare circumstances physicians may become "mere
technicians," applying the sanctions of another authority who purchase
their medical skills. An extreme example would be the behavior of the
experimental and death physicians in Nazi Germany. A less heinous but
nevertheless ominous example is provided by physicians who perform
court-ordered sterilizations (Kittrie, 1971). Perhaps one could imagine
sometime in the future, if the death penalty becomes commonplace
again, physicians administering drugs as the "humanitarian" and pain-
less executioners.3
MEDICAL IDEOLOGY
Medical ideology is a type of social control that involves defining a be-
havior or condition as an illness primarily because of the social and ide-
ological benefits accrued by conceptualizing it in medical terms. These
effects of medical ideology may benefit the individual, the dominant
interests in the society, or both. They exist independently of any organ-
ic basis for illness or any available treatment. Howard Waitzkin and
Barbara Waterman (1974) call one latent function of medicalization "sec-
ondary gain/' arguing that assumption of the sick role can fulfill per-
sonality and individual needs (e.g., gaining nurturance or attention or
legitimize personal failure (Shuval & Antonovsky, 1973).' One of the
most important functions of the disease model of alcoholism and to a
lesser extent drug addiction is the secondary gain of removing blame
from, and constructing a shield against condemnation of, individuals
for their deviant behavior. Alcoholics Anonymous, a nonmedical qua-
sireligious self-help organization, adopted a variant of the medical
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider 569
model of alcoholism independent of the medical profession. One sus-
pects the secondary gain serves their purpose well.
Disease designations can support dominant social interests and in-
stitutions. A poignant example is prominent 19th-century New Orleans
physician S. W. Cartwright's antebellum conceptualization of the dis-
ease drapetomania, a condition that affected only slaves. Its major symp-
tom was rwming away from their masters (Cartwright, S. W., 1851).
Medical conceptions and controls often support dominant social values
and morality: the 19th-century Victorian conceptualization of the illness
of and addiction to masturbation and the medical treabnents developed
to control this disease make chilling reading in the 1970s (Comfort, 1967;
Englehardt, 1974). The recent Soviet labeling of political dissidents as
mentally ill is another example of the manipulation of illness designa-
tions to support dominant political and social institutions (Conrad,
1977). These examples highlight the sociopolitical nature of illness des-
ignations in general (Zola, 1975).
In sum, medicine as an institution of social control has a number of
faces. The three types of medical social control discussed here do not
necessarily exist as discrete entities but are found in combination with
one another. For example, court-ordered sterilizations or medical pre-
scribing of drugs to unruly nursing home patients combines both tech-
nological and collaborative aspects of medical control; legitimating
disability status includes both ideological and collaborative aspects of
medical control; and treating Soviet dissidents with drugs for their men-
tal illness combines all three aspects of medical social control. It is clear
that the enormous expansion of medicine in the past 50 years has in-
creased the number of possible ways in whlch problems could be med-
icalized beyond those discussed in earlier chapters. In the next section
we point out some of the consequences of this medicalization,
SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES OF MEDICALIZING DEVIANCE
Jesse Pitts (1968), one of the first sociologists to give attention to the
medicalization of deviance, suggests that "medicalization is one of the
most effective means of social control and that it is destined to become
the main mode of jomlal social control" (p. 391, emphasis in original).'
Although his bold prediction is far-reaching (and, in light of recent de-
velopments, perhaps a bit premature), his analysis of a decade ago was
curiously optimistic and uncritical of the effects and consequences of
medicalization. Nonsocioligists, especially psychiatric critic Thomas
Szasz (1961, 1963, 1970, 1974) and legal scholar Nicholas Kittrie (1971),
 570 New Directions in Deviance Theory
are much more critical in their evaluations of the ramifications of med-
icalization. Szasz's critiques are polemical and attack the medical, es-
pecially psychiatric, definitions and treatments for deviant behavior.
Szasz's analyses, although path breaking, insightful, and suggestive,
have not been presented in a particularly systematic form. Both he and
Kittrie tend to focus on the effects of medicalization on individual civil
liberties and judicial processes rather than on social consequences. Their
writings, however, reveal that both aIe aware of sociological conse-
quences.
In this section we discuss some of the more significant consequences
and ramifications of defining deviant behavior as a medical problem.
We must remind the reader that we are examining the Social conse-
quences of medicalizing deviance, which can be analyzed separately
from the validity of medical definitions Or diagnoses, the effectiveness of
medical regimens, or their individual consequences. These variously
"latent" consequences inhere in medicalization itself and occur regardless
of how efficacious the particular medical treatment Or social control
mechanism. As will be apparent, our socialogical analysis has left us
skeptical of the social benefits of medical social controL We separate the
consequences into the "brighter" and "darker" sides of medicalization.
The "brighter" side will be presented first.
BRIGHTER SIDE
The brighter side of medicalization includes the positive or beneficial
qualities that are attributed to medicalization. We review briefly the ac-
cepted SOcially progressive aspects of medicalizing deviance. They are
separated more for clarity of presentation than for any intrinsic separa-
tion in consequence.
First, medicalization is related to a longtime humanitarian trend in
the conception and control of deviance. For example, alcoholism is no
longer considered a sin or even a moral weakness; it is now a disease.
Alcoholics are no longer arrested in many places for "public drunken-
ness"; they are now somehow "treated," if only to be dried out for a
time. Medical treatment for the alcoholic can be seen as a more human-
itarian means of social control. It is not retributive or punitive, but at
least ideally, therapeutic. Troy Duster (1970, p. 10) suggests that medical
definitions increase tolerance and compassion for human problems and
they "have now been reinterpreted in an almost nonmoTal fashion." (We
doubt this, but leave the morality issue for a later discussion.) Medicine
and humanitarianism historically developed concurrently and, as some
have observed, the use of medical language and evidence increases tlle
prestige of human proposals and enhances their acceptance (Wootton,
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 571
1959; Zola, 1975). Medical definitions are imbued with the prestige of the
medical profession and are considered the "scientific" and humane way
of viewing a problem .... This is especially true if an apparently "suc-
cessful" treatment for controlling the behavior is available, as with hy-
perkinesis.
Second, medicalization allows for the extension of the sick role to
those labeled as deviants (see Chapter 2 [of Deviance and Medicalizatiol1J
for our discussion of the sick role). Many of the perceived benefits of
the medicalization of deviance stern from the assignment of the sick
role. Some have suggested that this is the most significant element of
adopting the medical model of deviant behavior (Sigler & Osmond,
1974). By defining deviant behavior as an illness or a result of illness, one
is absolved of responsibility for one's behavior. It diminishes or removes
blame from the individual for deviant actions. Alcoholics are no longer
held responsible for their uncontrolled drinking, and perhaps hyperac-
tive children are no longer the classroom's "bad boys" but children with
a medical disorder. There is some clear secondary gain here for the in-
dividuaL The label "sick" is free of the moral opprobrium and implied
culpability of "criminal" or "sinner." The designation of siclmess also
may reduce guilt for drinkers and their families and for hyperactive
children and their parents. Similarly, it may result in reduced stigma for
the deviant. It allows for the development of more acceptable accounts
of deviance: a recent film depicted a child witnessing her father's help-
less drunken stupor; her mother remarked, "It's okay. Daddy's just
sick."6
The sick role allows for the "confidential legitimation" of a certain
amount of deviance, so long as the individual fulfills the obligations of
the sick role.' As Renee Fox (1977) notes:
The fact that the exemptions of sickness have been extended to people
with a widening arc of attitudes, experiences and behaviors in Ameri-
can society means primarily that what is regarded as "conditionally
legitimated deviance" has increased .... So long as [the deviant] ~oes
not abandon himself to illness or eagerly embrace it, but works active-
lyon his own or with medical professiona~ to improve hi7 condition,
he is considered to be responding appropnately, even admirably, to an
unfortunate occurrence. Under these conditions, illness is accepted as
legitimate deviance. (p. 15)8
TIle deviant, in essence, is medically excused for the deviation. But, as
Talcott Parsons (1972) has pointed out, "the conditional legitimation is
bought at a price," namely, the recognition that illness itself is an unde-
sirable state, to be recovered from as expeditiously as possible" (p. 108).
TIms the medical excuse for deviance is only valid when the patient-
deviant accepts the medical perspective of the inherent undesirability of
572 New Directions in Deviance Theory
his or her sick behavior and submits to a subordinate relationship with
an official agent of control (the physician) toward changing it. This, of
course, negates any threat the deviant may pose to society's normative
structure, for such deviants do not challenge the norm; by accepting de-
viance as sickness and social control as "treatment," the deviant under-
scores the validity of the violated norm.
Third, the medical model can be viewed as portraying an optimistic
outcome for the deviant.' Pitts (1968) notes, "the possibility that a pa-
tient may be exploited is somewhat minimized by therapeutic ideology,
which creates an optimistic bias concerning the patient's fate" (p. 391).10
The therapeutic ideology, accepted in some form by all branches of
medicine, suggests that a problem (e.g., deviant behavior) can be
changed or alleviated if only the proper treatment is discovered and
administered. Defining deviant behavior as an illness may also mobilize
hope in the individual patient that with proper treatment a "cure" is
possible (Frank, J., 1974). Clearly this could have beneficial results and
even become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Although the medical model is
interpreted frequently as optimistic about individual change, under
some circumstances it may lend itself to pessimistic interpretations. The
attribution of physiological cause coupled with the lack of effective
treatment engendered a somatic pessimism in the late 19th-century con-
ception of madness ...
Fourth, medicalization lends the prestige of the medical profeSSion to
deviance designations and treatments. The medical profession is the
most prestigious and dominant profession in American society (Freid-
son, 1970). As just noted, medical definitions of deviance become im-
bued with the prestige of the medical profession and are construed to be
the "sdentific" way of viewing a problem. The medical mantle of science
may serve to deflect definitional challenges. This is especially true if an
apparently "successful" treatment for controlling the behavior is avail-
able. Medicalization places the problem in the hands of healing physi-
cians. liThe therapeutic yalue of professional dominance, from the
patient's point of view, is that it becomes the doctor's problem" (Ehren-
reich & Ehrenreich, 1975, p. 156, emphasis in original). Physicians are as-
sumed to be beneficent and honorable. "The medical and paramedical
professions," Pitts (1968) contends, "especially in the United States, are
probably more immune to corruption than are the judicial and paraju-
dicial professions and relatively immune to political pressure" (p. 391)11
Fifth, medical social control is more flexible and often more efficient
than judicial and legal controls. The impact of the flexibility of medi-
cine is most profound on the "deviance of everyday life," since it al-
lows "social pressures on deviance [to] increase without boxing the
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider 573
deviant into as rigid a category as 'criminal'" (Pitts, 1968, p. 391)12 Med-
ical controls are adjustable to fit the needs of the individual patient,
rather than being a response to the deviant act itself. It may be more ef-
ficient (and less expensive) to control opiate addiction with methadone
maintenance than with long prison terms or mental hospitalization. The
behavior of disruptive hyperactive children, who have been immune to
all parental and teacher sanctions, may dramatically improve after treat-
ment with medications. Medical controls circumvent complicated legal
and judicial procedures and may be applied more informally. This can
have a considerable effect on social control structures. For example, it
has been noted that defining alcoholism as a disease would reduce arrest
rates in some areas up to 50%.
In sum, the social benefits of medicalization include the creation of
humanitarian and non-punitive sanctions; the extension of the sick role
to some deviants; a reduction of individual responsibility, blame, and
possibly stigma for deviance; an optimistic therapeutic ideology; care
and treatment rendered by a prestigious medical profession; and the
availability of a more flexible and often more efficient means of social
control.
DARKER SIDE
There is, however, another side to the merucalization of deviant behav-
ior. Altll0ugh it may often seem entirely humanitarian to conceptualize
deviance as sickness as opposed to badness, it is not that simple. There
is a "darker" side to the medicalization of deviance. In some senses
these might be considered as tlle more clearly latent aspects of medical-
ization. In an earlier work Conrad (1975) elucidated four consequences
of medicalizing deviance; building on that work, we expand our analy-
sis to seven. Six are discussed here; the seventh is described separately
in the next section.
Dislocation of Responsibility
As we have seen, defining behavior as a medical problem removes or
profoundiy diminishes responsibility from the individual. Although af-
fixing responsibility is always complex, medicalization produces confu-
sion and ambiguity about who is responsible. Responsibility is separated
from social action; it is located in the nether world of biophysiology or
psyche. Although this takes the individual officially ".off the hook," its ex-
cuse is only a partial one. The individual, the putative deVIant, and the
undersirable conduct are still associated. Aside from where such con-
duct is "seated," the sick deviant is the medium of its expression.
574 New Directions in Deviance Theory
With the removal of responsibility also comes the lowering of status.
A dual-class citizenship is created: those who are deemed respons~ble
for their actions and those who are not. The not-completely responsIble
sick are placed in a position of dependence on the fully re~pon.sible
nonsick (parsons, 1975, p. 108). Kittrie (1971, p. 347) notes ill thIS re-
gard that more than half the American population is no longer subject to
the sanctions of criminal law. Such persons, among others become true
"second-class citizens."
Assumption of the Moral Neutrality of Medicine
Cloaked in the mantle of science, medicine and medical practice are as-
sumed to be objective and value free. But this profoundly mis:epresents
reality. The very nature of medical practice involves vah~e, Ju~~ent.
To call something a disease is to deem it undesirable. Medlcme IS mflu-
enced by the moral order of society-witness the ~agnosis and tr~at­
ment of masturbation as a disease in Victorian tImes-yet medIcal
language of disease and treatment is assumed to be morally ne~~al. It is
not, and the very technological-scientific vocabulary of mediane that
defines disease obfuscates this fact.
Defining deviance as disease allows behavior to keep its negative
judgment, but medical language veils the political an~ moral n~ture of
this decision in the guise of scientific fact. There was httle publIc dam-
or for moral definitions of homosexuality as long as it remained defined
an illness but soon after the disease designation was removed, moral
crusaders' (e.g., Anita Bryant) launched public campaigns condemning
the immorality of homosexuality. One only needs to scratch the surface
of medical designations for deviant behavior to find overtly moral judg-
ments.
Thus, as 201a (1975) points out, defining a problem as within med-
ical jurisdiction
is not morally neutral precisely because. in e~tablishing its relev~ce
as a key dimension for action, the moral 15sue .15 pre~ented from bemg
squarely faced and occasionally from ev~n be1l1g raISed: By the accep-
tance of a specific behavior as an undeSIrable state the ISsue becomes
not whether to treat an individual problem but how and when. (p. 86)13
Defining deviance as a medical phenomenon involves moral enterprise.
Domination of Expert Control
The medical profession is made up of experts; it has a monopoly on
anything that can be conceptualized as an illness. Because of the wa~ the
medical profession is organized and the mandate it has from SOCIety,
decisions related to medical diagnosis and treatment are controlled al-
most completely by medical professionals.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 575
Conditions that enter the medical domain are not ipso facto medical
problems, whether we speak of alcoholism, hyperactivity, or drug ad-
diction. When a problem is defined as medical, it is removed from the
public realm, where there can be discussion by ordinary people, and
put on a plane where only medical people can discuss it. As Janice
Reynolds (1973) succinctly states,
The increasing acceptance, especially among the more educated seg-
~~ts of our populace, of technical solutiol15-solutions adminlstered by
dlsmterested and morally neutral experts~results in the withdrawal of
more and more areas of human experience from the realm of public
discussion. For when drunkenness, juvenile delinquency, sub par per-
formance and extreme political beliefs are seen as symptoms of an un-
derlying illness or biological defect the merits and drawbacks of such
behavior or beliefs need not be evaluated. {pp. 220-221)1-1
The public may have their own conceptions of deviant behavior, but
those of the experts are usually dominant. Medical definitions have a
high likelihood for dominance and hegemony: they are often taken as
the last scientific word. The language of medical experts increases mys-
tification and decreases the accessibility of public debate.
Medical Social Control
Defining deviant behavior as a medical problem allows certain things to
be done that could not otherwise be considered; for example, the body
may be cut open or psychoactive medications given. As we elaborated
above, this treatment can be a fann of social control.
In regard to drug treatment, Henry Lennard (1971) observes: "Psy-
choactive drugs, especially those legally prescribed, tend to restrain in-
dividuals from behavior and experience that are not complementary
with the requirements of the dominant value system" (p. 57). These
forms of medical social control presume a prior definition of deviance as
a medical problem. Psychosurgery on an individual prone to violent
outbursts requires a diagnosis that something is wrong with his brain or
nervous system. Similarly, prescribing drugs to restless, overactive, and
disruptive schoolchildren requires a diagnosis of hyperkinesis. These
forms of social control, what Stephan Chorover (1973) has called "psy-
chotechnology," are powerful and often efficient means of controlling
deviance. These relatively new and increasingly popular forms of med-
ical control could not be used without the prior medicalization of de-
viant behavior. AB is suggested from the discovery of hyperkinesis and
to a lesser extent the development of methadone treabnent of opiate ad-
diction, if a mechanism of medical social control seems useful, then the
deviant behavior it modifies will be given a medical label or diagnosis.
We imply no overt malevolence on the part of the medical profession;
576 New Directions in Deviance Theory
rather, it is part of a larger process, of which the medical profession is
only a part. The larger process might be called the individualization of
social problems.
Individualization of Social Problems
The medicalization of deviance is part of a larger phenomenon that is
prevalent in our society: the individualization of social problems. We
tend to look for causes and solutions to complex social problems in the
individual rather than in the social system. William Ryan (1971) has
identified this process as "blaming the victim": seeing the causes of the
problem in individuals (who are usually of low status) rather than as en-
demic to the society. We seek to change the "victim" rather than the so-
ciety. The medical practice of diagnosing an illness in an individual
lends itself to the individualization of social problems. Rather than see-
ing certain deviant behaviors as symptomatic of social conditions, the
medical perspective focuses on the individual, diagnosing and treating
the illness itself and generally ignoring the social situation.
Hyperkinesis serves as a good example of this. Both the school and
parents are concerned with the child's behavior; the child is difficult at
home and disruptive in schooL No punishments or rewards seem con-
sistently effective in modifying the behavior, and both parents and
school are at their wits' end. A medical evaluation is suggested. The di-
agnosis of hyperkinetic behavior leads to prescribing stimulant med-
ications. The child's behavior seems to become more socially acceptable,
reducing problems in school and home. Treatment is considered a med-
ical success.
But there is an alternative perspective. By focusing on the symp-
toms and defining them as hyperkinesis, we ignore the possibility that
the behavior is not an illness but an adaptation to a social situation. It di-
verts our attention from the family or school and from seriously enter-
taining the idea that the "problem" could be in the structure of the social
system. By giving medications, we are essentially supporting the exist-
ing social and political arrangements in that it becomes a "symptom" of
an individual disease rather than a possible "comment" on the nature of
the present situation. Although the individualization of social problems
aligns well with the individualistic ethic of American culture, medical in-
tervention against deviance makes medicine a de facto agent of domi-
nant social and political interests.
Depoliticization of Deviant Behavior
Depoliticization of deviant behavior is a result of both the process of
medicalization and the individualization of social problems. Probably
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 577
one of the clearest recent examples of such depoliticization occurred
when political dissidents in the Soviet Union were declared mentally
ill and confined to mental hospitals (Conrad, 1977). This strategy served
to neutralize the meaning of political protest and dissent, rendering it
(officially, at least) symptomatic of mental illness.
The medicalization of deviant behavior depoliticizes deviance in
the same manner. By defining the overactive, restless, and disruptive
child as hyperkinetic, we ignore the meaning of the behavior in the
context of the social system. If we focused our analysis on the school
system, we might see the child's behavior as a protest against some
aspect of the school or classroom situation, rather than symptomatic of
an individual neurological disorder. Similar examples could be drawn
of the opiate addic! in the ghetto, the alcoholic in the workplace, and
others. Medicalizing deviant behavior precludes us from recogniz-
ing it as a possible intentional repudiation of existing political ar-
rangements.
There are other related consequences of the medicalization of de-
viance beyond the six discussed. The medical ideal of early interven-
tion may lead to early labeling and secondary deviance (see Lemert,
1972). The "medical decision rule," which approximates "when in doubt,
treat/' is nearly the converse of the legal dictum "innocent until proven
guilty" and may unnecessarily enlarge the population of deviants
(Scheff, 1963). Certain constitutional safeguards of the judicial system
that protect individuals' rights are neutralized or bypassed by medical-
ization (Kittrie, 1971). Social control in the name of benevolence is at
once insidious and difficult to confront. Although these are all signifi-
cant, we wish to expand on still another consequence of considerable so-
cial importance, the exclusion of evil.
EXCLUSION OF EVIL
Evil has been excluded from the imagery of modem human problems.
We are uncomfortable with notions of evil; we regard them as primi-
tive and nonhumanitarian, as residues from a theological era. IS Med-
icalization contributes to the exclusion of concepts of evil in our society.
Clearly medicalization is not the sole cause of the exclusion of evil- but
it shrouds conditions, events, and people and prevents them from being
confronted as evil. The roots of the exclusion of evil are in the Enlight-
enment, the diminution of religious imagery of srn, the rise of deter-
minist theories of human behavior, and the doctrine of cultural relativity.
Social scientists as well have excluded the concept of evil from their an-
 578 New Directions in Deviance Theory
alytic discourses (Wolff, 1969; for exceptions, see Becker, 1975, and
Lyman, 1978).
Although we cannot here presume to identify the forms of evil in
modem times, we would like to sensitize the reader to how medical de-
finitions of deviance serve to further exclude evil from our view. It can
be argued that regardless of what we construe as evil (e.g., destruction,
pain, alienation, exploitation, oppression), there are at least two general
types of evil: evil intent and evil consequence. Evil intent is similar to the
legal concept mens rea, literally, evil mind." Some evil is intended by a
11
specific line of action. Evil consequence is, on the other hand, the result
of action. No intent or motive to do evil is necessary for evil consequence
to prevail; on the contra.r-y. it often resembles the platitude "the road to
hell is paved with good intentions." In either case medicalization di-
lutes or obstructs us from seeing evil. Sickness gives us a vocabulary of
motive (Mills, 1940) that obliterates evil intent. And although it does
not automatically render evil consequences good, the allegation that
they were products of a "sick" mind or body relegates them to a status
similar to that of "accidents."
For example, Hitler orchestrated the greatest mass genocide in mod-
ern history, yet some have reduced his motivation for the destruction of
the Jews (and others) to a personal pathological condition. To them and
to many of us, Hitler was sick. But this portrays the horror of the Holo-
caust as a product of individual pathology; as Thomas Szasz frequently
pOints out, it prevents us from seeing and confronting man's inhuman-
ity to man. Are Son of Sarn, Charles Manson, the assassins of King and
the Kennedys, the Richard Nixon of Watergate, Libya's Muammar
Kaddafi, or the all-too-common child beater sick? Although many may
well be troubled, we argue that there is little to be gained by deploying
such a medical vocabulary of motives. 16 It only hinders us from com-
prehending the human element in the decisions we make, the social
structures we create, and the actions we take. HannahArendt (1963), in
her exemplary study of the banality of evil, contends that Nazi war
criminal Adolph Eichmann, rather than being sick, was "terribly. terri-
fyingly normal."
Susan Santag (1978) has suggested that on a cultural level, we use
the metaphor of illness to speak of various kinds of evil. Cancer, in par-
ticular, provides such a metaphor: we depict slums and pornography
shops as "cancers" in our cities; J. Edgar Hoover's favorite metaphor
for communism was "a cancer in our midst"; and Nixon's administra-
tion was deemed "cancerous," rotting from within. In our secular cul-
ture, where powerful religious connotations of sin and evil have been
obscured, cancer (and -for that matter, illness in general) is one of the
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 579
few available images of unmitigated evil and wickedness. As Sontag
(1978) observes:
But how to be ... [moral] in tile late twentieth century? How, when ... we
have a sense of evil but no longer the religious or philosophicallan~
guage to talk intelligently about evil. Trying to comprehend "radical"
or "absolute" evil, we search for adequate metaphors. But the modem
disease metaphors are all cheap shots ... Only in the most limited sense
is any historical event or problem like an illness. It is invariably an en-
couragement to simplify what is complex ... (p. 85)
Thus we suggest that the medicalization of social problems detracts
from our capability to see and confront the evils that face our world.
In sum, the "darker" side of the medicalization of deviance has pro-
found consequences for the putative or alleged deviant and society. We
now turn to some policy implications of medicalization.
MEDICALIZATION OF DEVIANCE AND SOCIAL POLICY
"Social policy" may be characterized as an institutionalized definition
of a problem and its solutions. There are many routes for developing so-
cial policy in a complex society, but, as John McKnight (1977) contends,
"There is no greater power than the right to define the question" (p.85).
The definition and designation of the problem itself may be the key to
the development of social policy. Problem definitions often take on a life
of their own; they tend to resist change and become the accepted man-
ner of defining reality (see Caplan & Nelson, 1973). 1n a complex soci-
ety, social policy is only rarely implemented as a direct and
self-conscious master plan, as for example, occurred with the develop-
ment of community mental health centers ... It is far more common for
social policies to evolve from the particular definitions and solutions
that emerge from various political processes. Individual policies in di-
verse parts of society may conflict, impinge on, and modify one anoth-
er. The overall social policy even may be residual to the political
process. The medicalization of deviance never has been a formalized so-
cial policy; .. .it has emerged from various combinations of turf battles,
court decisions, scientific innovations, political expediences, medical
entrepreneurship, and other influences. The medicalization of deviance
has become in effect a de facto social policy.
In this discussion we explore briefly how some changes and
trends in medicine and criminal justice as well as the recent "puni-
tive backlash" may affect the future course of the medicalization of
deviance.
 580 New Directions in Deviance Theory
CRIMINAL}USTICE: DECRIMINALIZATION, DECARCERATION, AND
THE THERAPEUTIC STATE
0:r er .the ~ast n:vo d~cades the percent of officially defined deviants in-
stitutionalIzed ill pnsons or mental hospitals has decreased. 111ere has
been a parallel growth in "community-based" programs for social Con-
trol. Although this "decarceration" has been most dramatic with th
mentall~ ill, substa~tia~ de~titutio.nalization has occurred in the priso~
populattons and WIth Juverule delmquents and opiate addicts as well
~see. Sc~ll, 1~77). Many deviants who until recently would have been
Institutionalized are being "~reated" or maintained in community pro-
~rams-for example, probahon, work release, and community Correc-
ho~al p.rograms for criminal offenders; counseling, vocationat Or
reSIdential program~ as diversion from juvenile court for delinquents;
~nd met~adone mamtenance or therapeutic community programs in
heu of prIson for opiate addicts.
~~ en:erging social policy of decarceration has already affected
medIcalizatlOn. Assuming that the amount of deviance and number of
deviants a society recognizes remains generally constant (see Erikson
1966), a change in policy in one social control agency affects other social
control agents. Thus decarceration of institutionalized deviants will lead
to the deployment of other forms of social control. Because medical so-
cial conn:01 is one of the main types of social control deployed in the
commumty, decarceration increases medicalization. Since the Robillsoll
Supreme Court decision and the discovery of methadone maintenance
~e .control of opiate addicts has shifted dramatically from the criminal
Justice system to the medical system. Control of some criminal offenders
may be subtly transferred from the correctional system to the mental
health system; one recent study found an increase in the number of
males with ~rior police records admitted to psychiatric facilities and
suggested this may be an indication of a medicalization of criminal be-
havior (Melick, Steadrnan, & Cocozza, 1979). There is also Some evi-
dence ~hat probation officers, in their quest for professional status, adopt
a medical model in their treatment of offenders (Chalfant, 1977). Al-
though SOme ~bservers have suggested that tlle apparent decarceration
of mental patients.f~~m mental hospitals and the rise of community
mental health faCIlIties has at least partially demedicalized mad-
ness, ... this is an inaccurate interpretation. Moreover, the extent of de-
carceration has been exaggerated; many of the former or would-be
mental patie.nts are located in other institutions, especially nursing
homes (Redltch & Kellert, 1978). Here they remain under medical or
quas.im~dic~l control. In short, decarceration appears to increase the
mf'c:1wahzaHnn of rlf'viancp.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 581
Decrirninalization also affects medicalization. Decriminalization
means that a certain activity is no longer considered to be a criminal of-
fense. But even when criminal sanctions are removed, the act may still
maintain its definition as deviance. In this case, other noncriminal sanc-
tions may emerge .... [T}he disease model of alcoholism did not begin its
rise to prominence until after the repeal of Prohibition, that is, after alco-
hol use in general was decriminalized. More specifically, we can examine
the response to the decriminalization of "public drunkenness" in the
19605. A recent study has shown that although alcohol and drug psy-
choses comprised only 4.7% of the mental health population (inpatient
and outpatient) in 1950, in 1975 "alcoholism accounted for 46 percent of
state hospital patients" and became the largest diagnostic category in
mental hospitals (Redlich & Kellert, 1978, p. 26). It is likely that the com-
bination of the declining populations in state mental hospitals and the de-
criminalization of "public drunkenness" (e.g., police now bring drunks to
the mental hospital instead of the drunk tank) is in part reflected in this
enormous increase of alcoholics in the mental health system.
Medicalization allows for the decrirninalization of certain activities
(e.g., public drunl<enness, some types of drug use) because (1) they re-
main defined as deviant (sick) and are not vindicated and (2) an alter-
native form of social control is available (medicine). If an act is
decriminalized and also demedicalized (e.g., homosexuality), there may
well be a backlash and a call for recrirninalization or at least reaffirma-
tion of its deviant status rather than a vindication. We postulate that if an
act is decriminalized and yet not vindicated (i.e., still remains defined as
deviant), its control may be transferred from the criminal justice to the
medical system. I7
In the 1960s and early 19705 considerable concern was voiced in
some quarters concerning the "social policy" that was leading to the di-
vestment of criminal justice and the rise of the therapeutic state (Kit-
trie, 1971; Leifer, 1969; Szasz, 1963) ... [Tlhere has been some retreat from
the "rehabilitative ideal" in criminal justice. On the other hand, both
decarceration and decriminalization have increased medicalization.
Thus we would conclude that although the "therapeutic state" is not
becoming the dominant social policy as its earlier critics feared, neither
is it showing signs of abating. We would suggest that to the extent that
decarceration and decrirninalization remain social policies, rnerucaliza-
tion of deviance can be expected to increase.
TRENDS IN MEDICINE AND MEDICALIZATION
The medicalization of deviance has been influenced by changes in the
mpnical nrofession and in social policy regarding medical care. TIle pres-
582 New Directions in Deviance Theory
tige of medicine has been growing since the turn of the century. Medical
practice has become increasingly specialized; whereas only 20% of
physicians were specialists in 1940, by the early 1970s nearly 80% con-
sidered themselves specialists (Twaddle & Hessler, 1977, p. 175). This is
in part the result of the increasingly technological nature of medicine.
The number of personnel employed in the medical sector has increased
considerably since the Second World War. But the most spectacular
growth has been in the cost and investment in medical care in the past
three decades.
In 1950 the expenditures for medical care comprised 4.6% of the
Gross National Product (GNP); by 1976 they accounted for 8.3%, for a
total of over $130 billion spent on medical care. Since 1963 health ex-
penditures have risen more than 10% yearly, while the rest of the econ-
omy has grown by 6% to 71}'0. In other words, medicine is the fastest
expanding part of the service sector and one of the most expansive seg-
ments of our economy. In one sense we might see these increasing ex-
penditures themselves as an index of increasing medicalization. But
more likely, the increasing economic resources allocated to medical care
create a substantial pool of money to draw from, thereby increasing the
resources available for medical solutions to human problems. It should
be noted, however, that the inflation of medical costs could ultimately
become a factor in decreasing the medicalization of deviance, simply
because medical solutions have become too costiy.
Much of the rising cost of medical care has been attributed to the
growth in third-party payments (i.e., when medical care is paid not by
the patient or the provider of the care but by a third party.) The major
source of third-party payments has been Blue Cross and Blue Shield
and the health insurance industry;. and, since the enactment of Medicare
and Medicaid in 1965, also the federal government. More than 51 % of
medical costs was paid directly by the patient in 1966; by 1975 this figure
had dipped to less than 33% (Coe, 1978, p. 387). The largest increase in
third-party payments has been the amount paid by the federal govern-
ment; in 1975, 27.7% of medical costs was borne by the federal govern-
ment, and this is expected to continue to increase. What this all means
for the medicalization of deviance is that "third parties" are increasing-
ly deciding what is appropriate medical care and what is not. For ex-
ample, if medical insurance or Medicaid will pay for certain types of
treatment, then the problem is more likely to be medlcalized. Although
the medical profession certainly has influence in this area, this removes
the control of medicalization from medical hands and places it into the
hands of the third'p~rty payers. Although 90% of America's Blue Cross
~lans prov_ide some hospital cov:rage for ~l~oholi~m, le.ss than 10% o~
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 583
health-care protection programs (Belwvior Today, June 21, 1976). Although
many physicians consider obesity to be a bona fide medical condition,
virtually no health insurers will pay for intestinal by-pass operations as
a treatment for obesity. Clearly, changes in policies by third-party payers
can drastically affect the types or amount of deviance medicalized.
Until about the past two decades, the dominant organization of med-
ical practice was private, solo practice. There has been a growing bu-
reaucratization of medical practice. The hospital rather than the private
office is becoming the center for health care delivery. These large modern
hospitals are both a result of, and an inducement for, the practice of high-
ly specialized and technological medicine. Hospitals have their own or-
ganizational priorities of sustaining a smoothly running bureaucracy,
maximizing profitable services, justifying technological equipment, and
maintaining the patient-bed load at near full capacity_ Although bu-
reaucratic organizations reduce medical professional power, the instihl-
tional structure of the hospital is better suited to function as an agent of
social control than the singular office practice_ Hospital medicine can be
practiced at a high biotechnological level, is less client dependent (be-
cause of third-party payments), has less personal involvement, and is
more responsive to demands of other instihttions, especially the state, on
whom it is increasingly dependent for financial support.
For many years American medicine was considered to be suffering
from a shortage of physicians. In the 1960s federal programs to expand
medical schools increased greatly the number of physicians being
trained. We have just begun to experience the effects of the rising num-
~er of physicians. Behveen 1970 and 1990 we can expect an 80% increase
m the number of physicians-from about 325,000 to almost 600,000. And
if present population and medical trends continue, as we expect they
will, by 1990 there will be one physician for every 420 people in the
United States and an even greater enlargement in the number of nurses
and allied health workers (U.5. Department of Health, Education and
Welfare, 1974).
One result of the growing number of medical personnel could be
an increase in the number of problems that become defined as medical
problems (after all, we have all these highly trained professionals to
treat them). Although the grater number of phYSicians could result in
better delivery of medical services, it could also increase medicalization
as new physicians attempt to develop new areas of medical turf as old
ones become saturated. David Mechanic (1974, p. 50) suggests, for in-
stance, that for "family practice" to become a viable discipline in medi-
cine, family practitioners would have to develop a "scientific and
investigatory stance" toward common family practice problems such
__ 1I_1 __ 1__ 1~ ___ ..1 _____ 1. ____ .1,rr·o 1,· __ • 11, • r·, •
584 New Directions in Deviance Theory
c?nform to medical regimen and the like." The potential for the expan-
SlOn of the medical domain here is great.
~ut there are also some countertrends in medicine. There is an em-
phasis on both self-care and individual responsibility for health (see
Know!e~,. 1977). Health is becoming defined as more of a personal re-
sponsibility. As Zola (1972) observes, "At the same time the label 'ill-
ness' is being used to attribute 'diminished responsibility' to a whole
host o~ ph~nomena, the issue of 'personal responsibility' seems to be re-
eme~gmg m medicine itself" (p. 491). Increased personal responSibility
for SIckness could cause the responsbility for the behavior to return to
the ind~vidua~. F~r instance, alcoholics would be deemed responsible
for ~eVlant dn~kmg, obese people for their deviant bodies, and opiate
addIcts for theIr habits. This could ultimately spur some demedical-
ization. 18
. But the most important social policy affecting the future of med-
lcahzatlOn hinges on the notion of a "right to adequate health care"
and the development of National Health Insurance (NHI) program.
The proposal of an NHI program has become a significant political
lssue. In the past. decade do~ens of bills advocating different NHI plans
have been subnutted to vanous congressional committees. No specific
NHI plan as yet has emerged as the most probable candidate for pas-
sage, but the:e is a high likelthood that some type of NHl plan will be
enacted wlthm the next decade. Because of the recent fiscal crunch and
the strong lobbying of powerful vested interests (e.g., the health insur-
ance mdustry, the medical profession, the hospital associations) it is
unlikely that is will be an NHI program providing comprehensiv; cov-
~rage. lYfore likely, NHI will not alter the present structure of the med-
Ic~l system and will resemble present insurance programs (although
':lth mcreased publi~ accountability); it will be at least partly federally
fin~ced and.ex.tend msur~nce. coverage to all Americans. Regardless of
which NHI bIllls enacted, It will have an effect on medicalization. What
the eff:ct will be, however, is uncertain. There are at least three possible
scenanos.
Scenario One: ~~c.ause the cost of paying for treahnent is high and
deemed prohibItive, fewer deviant behaviors are defined as med-
i:al problems. Perhaps alcoholism, marital problems, drug addic-
tion, psychosurgery, and treahnent for obesity will be excluded
from NHI coverage.
Sce~nrioTwo: Bec~use NHI will pay for the treatment of anything
defined as a medical problem, more deviance becomes medical-
ized. Gambling, divorce, boredom, narcissism, and lethargy will
be defined as 111nf'ssf'.s :mrl ITPCltf'rl mprlirrlllv
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 585
Scwnrio Three: Individuals are not considred responsible for their
illnesses; so activities that are seen as leading to medical problems
become defined as deviant. Smoking, eating poorly, getting insuf-
ficient exercise, or eschewing seat belts all will be defined as de-
viant. Certain medical problems could be excluded from NHI
coverage because they are deemed to be willfully caused (Le.,
"badness").
This final scenario takes us full circle, as we would develop the notion of
"sickness as sin."19 Scenarios two and three would further the conver-
gence of illness and deviance. At this point, it is difficult to predict
which, if any, of these scenarios might result from the enachnent of NHI.
PUNITIVE BACKLASH
Since about 1970 there has been a "backlash" against the increasing "lib-
eralization" of the treahnent of deviance and the Supreme Court deci-
sions that have granted criminal suspects and offenders greater "rights."
This public reaction, coming mostly from the more conservative sectors
of society, generally calls for more strict treatment of deviants and a re-
turn to more punitive sanctions.
This "punitive backlash" takes many forms. In 1973 New York
passed a get tough" law with mandatory prison sentences for drug
11
dealers. Other legislative attempts have been made to impose manda-
tory minimum sentences on offenders. There is a considerable public
clamor for the return of the death penalty. A current New York state law
has allowed juveniles between ages 13 and 15 to be tried as adults for
some offenses. The antiabortion crusade has made inroads into the avail-
ability of abortions and is aiming for the recriminalization of abortion.
Recently antihomosexuality crusades have appeared from Florida to
Oregon, defeating antidiscrimination referenda and limiting the rights of
homosexuals.
This swell of public reaction may be in part a response to the thera-
peutic ideology and the perceived "coddling" of deviants. Should this
backlash and other recent public reactions such as California's Proposi-
tion 13 taxpayer revolt continue to gather strength and grow in popu-
larity, they well may force a retreat from the medicalization of deviance.
SOME SOCIAL POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS
Our examination of the medicalization of deviance in American society
has led us to some conclusions related to social policy. In this discus-
sion we brieflv outline some social policy recommendations.
586 New Directions in Deviance Theory
1. The medicalization of deviance needs to be recognized as a de
facto sodal policy. Recognized as such, issues like those pointed to in this
chapter could be raised and debated. It is important that public discus-
sion by physicians, politicians, and lay persons alike be encouraged and
facilitated. In recognition of the salience of rnedicalization and its con-
sequences, perhaps "medicalization impact statements" should be re-
quired of social policy proposals affecting rnedicalization. For example,
it is important to weigh the impact of NHI on medicalization.
2. Research is needed on the extent of medicalization, its benefits,
and its costs. This includes research into the efficacy, the financial and
social costs, and the extent of actual medicalization. We need continued
research into the politics of medicalization and further investigation into
the areas of medicalized deviance covered in [Deviance a11d MedicaIiza-
tiOI1 J as well as those not covered, such as the medicalization of suicide
old age and senility, obesity, abortion, and mental retardation. We need
to compare these with uncontested medical problems that were at one
time defined as deviance, such as epilepsy and leprosy. Close attention
needs to be given to the efficacy, costs, and benefits for each type of
medicalization. Hopefully such knowledge and understanding will bet-
ter guide social policy decisions concerning medicalization.
3. Medicalization removes the constitutional safeguards of the ju-
dicial process (see Kittrie, 1971). Because of this, it is important to create
some type of medical due process or redress for putative deviants who
are the objects of therapeutic interventions. Since this type of due process
would probably be resisted by the medical profession and labeled an-
titherapeutic, we propose the development of some type of "counter-
power" to medical social control. This could take the form of patient or
deviant advocates, intervention review organizations, or even a Nader-
type watchdog group. This would help ensure that individual rights
were not circumvented in the name of health.
4. It is our belief that we need to develop social policies toward
deviance that hold people accollntable for their actions but do not bla1lle
them. TIlis is a delicate but possible balance. One proposal is bypass-
ing such slippery concepts as responsibility and guilt, substituting an as-
sumption of human fallibility combined with accountability for human
action. As Kittrie (1971 suggests,
Every person who lives in a society is accountable to it for his anti-so-
cial behavior. Society, in return, may seek to curb his future misdeeds,
not as a punishment for the improper exercise of free will but as a rem-
edy for his human failings.
Although the notions of guilt, more responsibility, and accountability
are profound philosophical (and political) questions that cannot begin to
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Schneider 587
be addressed here, we believe they must be directly discussed and
reevaluated, since many people's lives are profoundly affected by them.
Presently our society's only "no blame" model for deviant behavior
is the medical model. We need to develop new models of deviance that
do not assume ultimate individual moral responsibility and yet do not
define those who are not considered responsible as "sick." Presently the
only alternative to the criminal-responsibility model is the medical-no-
responsibility model. It is imperative that we free oursel:res from ,the
dichotomous crime or sickness models that create largely eIther-or SItu-
ations, as well as from unworkable and contradictory crime-sickness
hybrids, as with sex offenders. ..' . ..
New models of deviance need to be reconCIled WIth SOCIal SCIentific
knowledge about deviance. There is considerab.le eviden~e that e.c~­
nomic, social, and family factors contribute to deVIant behavlOr, and It 15
important to understand that the individual has only limited cont.roI
over these factors. Yet it is also important, because of our understanding
of human behavior, not to completely neglect its voluntary components.
Thus we concur with Robert Veatch (1973) that rather than assuming
that human behavior is caused by biophysiological elements ("sidmess"),
"it is preferable to make clear the missing c~tegories-namely noncul·
pable deviancy caused psychologically, SOCIally and culturally, for ex-
ample, by lack of various forms of psychologIcal, SOCIal and cultural
welfare" (p. 71). We need to create a "no blame" role for deviants that still
holds the individual accOlmtable for his or her action. We need to create
a social role analogous to the sick role that does not assume sickness OI
remove responsibility and yet reconciles our understanding that there
are "forces" beyond the scope of the individual that affect human be·
havior. For example, one can envision the conception of a "victim role",
the individual is viewed as a "victim" of life circumstances; these cir-
cumstances are known to increase the probability for certain types oJ
"deviant" behavioral responses as well as attributions, yet because ~€
behavior is not regarded as "determined" by the circumstances, the m·
dividual is accountable for deviant behavior. In other words, given the
circumstances the individual is accountable for the behavioral strate·
gies chosen in' a situation. Needless to say, thi~ is ~ complex an~ stick)
issue, replete with philosophical and pragmatic pItfalls. It proVIdes ar
important challenge for social scientists and philosophers. We pre~en
this example only to suggest the possibility of alternatives to the n;~dical.
criminal model dichotomy. As Clarice Stoll (1968) observes, Oill lillage
of man" is central in determining our social response to deviance; w{
call for the development of an alternative image that reconciles societa
response with the understandings of social and behavioral science.
 586 588 New Directions in Deviance Theory 38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sdmeider 589

facte Finally, because social control is necessary for the existence of saciJ conceive of any individual as "evi~." As sociolo?"ists we are -:nor~ likely
chaF
:ty, we urge the ~evelopment of alternative, noncriminal and namned.! to see people as produ:ts o~ theIr psych~log1cal. and SOCIal ClrCUffi-
sion leal modes of SOCIal control appropriate to the new model of devianc ,I stances: there may be evil SOCIal structures, Ideologtes, or deeds, but not
e.! evil people. Yet when we confront a Hitler, an Idi Amin, or a Stalin of the
facil
j forced labor camps, it is sometimes difficult to reach any other conclu-
sequ
qUITI
MEDICALIZING DEVIANCE: A FINAL NOTE sion. We note this dilemma more as clarification of OUI stance than as a
it is . solution. There are both evils in society and people who are "victim" to
The potential.for me.dicalizin.g deviance has increased in the past few those evils. Wort~while s~c~al scien~fi~ goals incl~de uncover~g ~le
and decades. The mcreasmg domInance of the medical profession the dis-I evils, understandmg and aIdmg the VICtims, and ultimately contributing
soci. cove~ of subtl~ phYSiological correlates of human behavior,' and thel to a more humane existence for all.
rese, creation ~f medIcal technologies (promoted by powerful pharmaceutical!
the ;: and medIcal technology industry interests) have advanced this trend.!
lion] ~~ough we remain skeptical of the overall social benefits of medicaI-i SUMrvIARY
lzation . I
old, r . and are concerned about its "darker" side, it is much t 00 SlITI-1
to cc P IStiC t? sugge~t a wholesale condemnation of medicalization. Offerin ,In the 20th century, medicine has expanded as an institution of social
time alcoholics medIcal treatment in lieu of the drunk tank is undoubtedl ~I control. On the most abstract level medical social control is the accep-
fleec more humane res~onse to deviance; methadone maintenance allow~ a I tance of a medical perspective as the dominant definition of certain phe-
med i
sel~ct group of 0pI~te addicts to make successful adaptations to soci- nomena. Me~lica~ social c~ntrol of de~iant behav~or usu~lly takes t.he
ety, some ~ch~olchildren seem to benefit from stimulant medications I form of medIcal mterventIon, attemptmg to modIfy devIant behavIOr
ter g
n:
for hyperkinesIs;. ~d the m~dical dis:overy of child abuse may well in-I with medical me~ and the name of heal~. We iden~ three general
I
cre~se therapeutIc mtervention. MedIcalization in general has reduced forms of the medIcal socIal control of devIance: medIcal technology,
did,
som socle~a! conde~ation of deviants. But these benefits do not mean these I medical collaboration, and medical ideology. Medical technology in-
are t I
COn~ltIon~ are In fact diseases or that the same results could not be vol~es the use?f pharmaceu~ical or surg~cal te~ologies as con~~ls for
wou ~chieved,,~anot~er manner. And even in those instances of medical I devIance. MedIcal collaboration emphaSIZes the mterwoven posItion of
tithE success, e s.o~Ial consequences indicated .. ,are still evident. I medicine in society and occurs when physicians collaborate with other
pow The ~ost diffi~ult consequence of medicalization for us to discuss is authorities as information providers, gatekeepers, institutional agents
devi .m
the exclusIOn of e~il . part this is because we are members of a culture and technicians. Medical ideology as social control involves defining a
type that has l~rgely elimmated evil from intellectual and public discourse. behavior or condition as an illness primarily for the social and ideolog-
wen But o~r dIscomfort also stems from our ambivalence about what can ical benefits accrued by conceptualizing it in medical terms. Although
m~arungful1y be construed as evil in our SOciety. If we are excluding these three "ideal types" are likely to be found in combination, they
devi eVIl, what. e.xactly are. we ~xcluding? We have no difficulty depicting highlight the ~aried faces of. medical social control.. .. .
then such COndIti~ns as. palI~, vlOlence, oppression, exploitation, and abject There are unportant SOCIal consequences of medicahzmg deVIance.
ing~
cruelty ~s eVIl. Soc~al SCIentists of various stripes have been pointing to : The "brighter" side of medicalization includes (1) a more humanitarian
sum th~se evIl.s and theIr consequences since the dawn of social science. It is conception of deviance; (2) the extension of the sick role to deviants,
ache also p~ssIb!e.for us to conceive of "organizational evils" such as corpo- minimizing blame and allowing for the conditional legitimation of a
r.ate pnce fI:~~mg, false a~vertising (or even all advertising), promoting certain amount of deviance; (3) the more optimistic view of change pre-
life:threaterun? ~utomobiles, or the wholesale drugging of nursing home i sented by the medical model; (4) lending the prestigious mantle of the
pati.ents t? fa~llitate ~stitutional management. We also have little trou- medical profession to deviance designations and treatments; and (5) the
ble m seemg IdeologIes such as imperialism, chauvinism, and racial su- fact that medical social control is more flexible and sometimes more ef-
Alth pre:nacy as evils. Our difficulty comes with seeing individuals as evil. ficient than other controls. However, there is a "darker" side of med-
are I
~le,,,,e would not adopt a Father-Flanagan-of-Boys-Town attitude of icalization, which includes (1) the dislocation of responsibility from the
_~ere s. ~o such ~g as a .b~d ~o~," OUr own socialization and "liberal" individual; (2) the assumption of the moral neutrality of medicine; (3)
1-1.. _____ Ll __ ~ _~~_ .... ..:I".. ,.,,-l 'h. v i-h o rlr.n->1n::otinn nf pvnprt rnntrnl: (4) now-
590 New Directions in Deviance Theory
erful medical techniques used for social control; (5) the individualization
of complex social problems; (6) the depoliticization of deviant behav-
ior; and (7) the exclusion of evil. It is this darker side that leaves us skep-
tieal of the social benefits of medicalizing deviance.
The medicalization of deviance has become a de facto social policy.
Changes in other "social policies" affect medicalization. Decarceration
leads to the increasing deployment of medical social control, since it is
one of the most effective social controls "in the community." Decrimi-
nalization may also increase medicalization because medicine provides
an alternative social control mechanism. We postulate that if an act is de-
criminalized and not vindicated, its control may be transferred from the
criminal justice system to the medical system. Although the therapeutic
state has not become the dominant social policy, neither does it show
any signs of withering away. Medicalization is also influenced by
changes and trends in medicine. Medical practice is becoming increas-
ingly specialized, technological, and bureaucratic. Society's economic
investment (in terms of percentage of GNP) in medical care has nearly
doubled in the past three decades. This is both an index of and incentive
for medicalization. Bureaucratic medical practice removes some defini-
tional power from the medical profession and places it in the hands of
third-party payers (including the state) and hospital administrators. The
number of physicians and other medical personnel will double by 1990;
this may well cause further medicalization. On the other hand, the in-
creased emphasis on self-care and individual responsibility for health, as
well as the "fiscal crisis" of rapidly rising medical costs, may limit med-
icalizalion and spur demedicalization. The passage of a National Health
Insurance program may have a profound effect on medicalization, al-
though it is difficult to predict preCisely what it will be. If the "punitive
backlash" to perceived liberalized treatment of deviants gains strength,
it may force some retreat from the medicalization of deviance.
We conclude with some brief social policy recommendations:
1. The medicalization of deviance needs to be recognized as a
de facto social policy.
2. More research is needed on the extent, politics, benefits, and
costs of medicalizing deviance.
3. Some form of "counterpower" to medical social control
needs to be created.
4. A new model of deviance that holds people accountable for
their actions but does not blame them needs to be devel-
oped, perhaps as a "victim" model. We need to be freed from
the dichotomous crime or sickness models that create limit-
ing either-or sitUations.
38. Peter Conrad and Joseph W. Sclmeider 591
NOTES
1. Another pharmaceutical innovation, birth control pills, also fun~o~ as
a medical control; in this case, the control of reproduction. There IS little
doubt that "the pill" has played a Significant part in the sexual revolU-
tion since the 1960s and the redefinition of what constitutes sexual de-
viance.
2. A number of other surgical interventions for deviance have been devel-
oped in recent years. Surgery for "gender dysphoria" (transsexuality)
and "intestinal by-pass" operations for obesity are both examples of sur-
gical intervention for deviance. The legalization of abortions h~s also
medicalized and legitimated an activity that was formerly deVIant and
brought it under medical-surgical control. ..
3. It is worth noting that in tile recent Gary Gihnore execution a phYSICian
was involved; he designated the spot where the heartbeat was loudest
and measured vital signs during the execution ceremony. A few states
have actually passed death penalty legislation specifying injection of a
lethal drug as the means of execution. .
4. Although Waitzkin and Watennan suggest that such secondary gam
functions are latent (Le., unintended and unrecognized), tile cases we
have discussed here show that such "gains" are often intentionally pur-
sued.
5. From Pitts, J. Social control: the concept. In D. Sills (Ed.), IntematiolU1l ell-
cyclopedia of social sciellces (vol. 14). New YO.rIc Macmilla~ Publishing Co.,
Inc., 1968. Copyright 1968 by Crowell CollIer and Macnullan, Inc.
6. It should be noted, however, that little empirical evidence exists for re-
duced stigmatization. Derek Phillips' (1963) research suggests that ~eo­
pIe seeking medical help for their personal problems are highly at ~sk
for rejection and stigmatization. Certain illnesses carry their own stigma.
Leprosy, epilepsy, and mental illness are all stigmatized illnes:es ~Gus­
sow & Tracy, 1968); Susan Son tag (1978) proposes that cancer 15 hig~ly
stigmatized in American society. We need further research on the stigma-
reducing properties of medical designations of deviance; it is by nO
means an automatic result of medicalization.
7. On the other hand, Paul Roman and Harrison Trice (1968, p. 248) con-
tend that the sick role of alcoholic may actually reinforce deviant behav -
ior by removing responsibility for deviant drinking behavior.
8. Reprinted by permission of Daedallls, Journal of the American Acad~my
of Arts and Sciences, Boston, Mass. Spring 1977, Doing better alld feelmg
worse: health ill tile United States. .
9. For a contrasting viewpoint, see Rotenberg's (1978) work, discussed ill
[Deviance alld MedicalizatiOlI: From Badness fa Sickness]. .
10. From Pitts, J. Social control: the concept. In D. Sills (Ed.), jlltenwtlOllal ell-
cyc10pedia of social sciellces (Vol. 14). New York: Macmillan Publishing Co.,
Inc., 1968. Copyright 1968 by Crowell Collier and Macmillan, Inc.
11. Ibid.
 592 New Directions in Deviance Theory
12. Ibid.
13. Reprinted with permission from Pergamon Press, Ltd.
14. From "The medical institution: the death and disea5e~producing ap-
pendage" by Janice M. Reynolds, first published in Americall society: a
critical analysis edited by Larry T. Reynolds and James M. Henslin. Copy_
right © 1973 by Longman Inc. Reprinted by permission of Longman.
15. Writing in the early 19705, Kittrie (1971) noted, "Ours is increasingly be-
coming a society that views punishment as a primitive and vindictive
tool and is therefore loath to punish" (p. 347). Some recent scholarship in
penology and the controversy about the death penalty has slightly modi-
fied this trend.
16. We do /lot suggest that these individuals or any other deviants discussed
in this book are or should be considered eviL We only wish to point out
that medicalization on a social level contributes to the exclusion of evil.
To the extent that evil exists, we would argue that social structures and
specific social conditions are the most significant cause of evil.
17. The decriminalization of abortion has led to its complete medicalization.
It is interesting to speculate whether the decriminalization of marijuana,
gambling, and prostitution would lead to medicalization. It is likely that
with marijuana and gambling, "compulsive" and excessive indulgence
would be defined as "sick"; with prostitution, medical certification
might be required, as is presently the case in several European countries.
18 Renee Fox (1977, pp. 19-21) contends that the recent trends of viewing
patients as consumers, the emergence of physician extenders such as
nurse practitioners and physicians' assistants, and "the increased insis~
tence on patients' rights, self-therapy, mutual aid, community medical
services and care by non-physician health professionals" constitute evi-
dence for demedicalization. We think Fox is mistaken. Demedicalizatioll
does /lot ocwr Ulltil a problem is /la longer defined ill medical terllls and medical
treatments are 110 longer seen as directly relevallt to its solutioll. Fox confuses
deprofessionalization with demedicalization.
19. Paradoxically this could also encourage dernedicalization, for the med-
ical model then becomes less functional in removing the culpability for
deviance.
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39 Social Change and Crime Rate Trends: A Routine
Activity Approach
LAWRENCE E. COHEN and MARCUS FELSON
INTRODUCTION
In its summary report the National Commission on the Causes and Pre-
vention of Violence (1969: xxxvii) presents an important sociological
paradox:
Why, we must ask, have urban violent crime rates increased sub~
stantially during t~e past ~ecade when the conditions that are sup-
posed to ,cause VIOlent cnme have not worsened-have, indeed
generally Improved?
The Bureau of the Census, in its latest report on trends in social
and economic condilions in metropolitan areas, states that most "indi-
cators of well-being pOint toward progress in the cities since 1960."
Reprinted from Lawrence E. Cohen and Milreus Felsofl, "Social Change and Crime R<1te
Trends: A Routine Activity Approach," American Sociological Review, vaL 44 (1979), pp.
588-608. By permission of the American Sociological Association and the authors.
For their comments, we thank David J. Bordua, Ross M. Stolzenberg, Christopher S.
Dunn, Kenneth C. Land, Robert Schoen, Amos Hawley, and an anonymous reviewer.
Funding for this study was provided by these United States Government grants: Na-
tional Institute for Mental Health l-ROI-MH31117-01' National Science Foundation
SOC-77-13261; and United States Army RI/DAHC 19-76-G-0016. The authors' nam'e
order is purely alphabetkill.
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson 597
Thus, for example, the proportion of blacks in cities who completed
high school rose from 43 percent in 1960 to 61 percent in 1968; unem-
ployment rates dropped significantly between 1959 and 1967 and the
median family income of blacks in cities increased from 61 percent to 68
percent of the median white family income during the same period.
Also during the same period the number of persons living below the
legally-defined poverty level in cities declined from 11.3 million to 8.3
million.
Despite the general continuation of these trends in social and eco-
nomic conditions in the United States, the Uniform Crime Report (FBI,
1975:49) indicates that between 1960 and 1975 reported rates of robbery,
aggravated assault, forcible rape and homicide increased by 263%,164%,
174%, and 188%, respectively. Similar property crime rate increases re-
ported during this same period} (e.g., 200% for burglary rate) suggest
that the paradox noted by the Violence Commission applies to nonvio-
lent offenses as welL
In the present paper we consider these paradoxical trends in crime
rates in terms of changes in the "routine activities" of everyday life. We
believe the structure of such activities influences criminal opportunity
and therefore affects trends in a class of crimes we refer to as direct-con-
tact predatory violatiol1s. Predatory violations are defined here as illegal
acts in which "someone definitely and intentionally takes or damages
the person or property of another" (Glaser, 1971:4). Further, this analy-
sis is confined to those predatory violations involving direct physical
contact between at least one offender and at least one person or object
which that offender attempts to take or damage.
We argue that structural changes in routine activity patterns can in-
fluence crime rates by affecting the convergence in space and time of
the three minimal elements of direct-contact predatory violations: (1)
motivated offenders, (2) suitable targets, and (3) the absence of capable
guardians against a violation. We further argue that the lack of anyone
of these elements is sufficient to prevent the successful completion of a
direct-contact predatory crime, and that the convergence in time and
space of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians may even
lead to large increases in crime rates without necessarily requiring any
increase in the structural conditions that motivate individuals to engage
in crime. TIlat is, if the proportion of motivated offenders or even suit-
able targets were to remain stable in a community, changes in routine ac-
tivities could nonetheless alter the likelihood of their convergence in
space and time, thereby creating more opportunities for crimes to occur.
Control therefore becomes criticaL If controls through routine activities
were to decrease, illegal predatory activities could then be likely to in-
crease. In the process of developing this explanation and evaluating its
ri'
598 New Directions in Deviance Theory
consistency ~ith existing data, we relate Our approach to classical
human ecologIcal concepts and to several earlier studies.
THE STRUCTURE OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY
Sociological knowledge of how community structure generates illegal
acts has ma~e little progress since Shaw and McKay and their colleagues
(1929) published their pathbreaking work, Delil1qllel1C1j Areas. Variations
ID CrIme ~ates over space long have been recognized (e.g., see Gueny,
1833; Quet~let, 1~42), a.nd. current evidence indicates that the pattern of
the~e relatIOnshIps wIthin metropolitan communities has persisted
(Relss, 1976). Although most spatial research is quite useful for describ-
ing crime rate patterns and providing post hoc explanations, these
works seldom consider-conceptually or empirically-the fundamental
h.~an ec.olog~cal character ?f illegal acts as events which OCCur at spe-
~ific locations In space and tmle, involving specific persons andj or ob-
Jects. These and related concepts can help us to develop an extension of
th~ human ecological analysis to the problem of explaining changes in
crlffie. rates over time. Unlike many criminological inquiries, We do not
examme why individuals or groups are inclined criminally, but rather
we take criminal inclination as given and examine the manner in which
the spatio-temporal organization of social activities helps people to
translate their criminal inclinations into action. Criminal violations are
trea.ted here as routine activities which share many attributes of, and
are mterdependent with, other routine activities. This interdependence
between the struc~e .o! illegal activities and the organization of every-
day sustenance actIvItIes leads us to consider certain concepts from
human ecological literature.
SELECTED CONCEPTS FROM HAWLEY'S HUMAN
ECOLOGICAL THEORY
While criminologists traditionally have concentrated on the spatial analy-
SISof crune rates within metropolitan communities, they seldom have
considered the temporal interdependence of these acts. In his classic the-
ory of human ecology, Amos Hawley (1950) treats the community not
sImply as a urut of terrItory but rather as an organization of symbiotic
and commensalistic relationships as human activities are performed
over both space and time.
I:Iawley identified three important temporal components of com-
mumty structure: (1) rhythm, the regular periodicity with which events
occur, as with ther .rhythm
'
_ • • _ _ L __________ · ,
of travel activity;
'.. •
(2)
,.
tempo,
..•.•.
the number of
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 599
day on a given street; and (3) timing, the coordination among different
activities which are more or less interdependent, such as the coordi-
nation of an offender's rhythms with those of a victim (Hawley,
1950:289; the examples are ours). These components of temporal or-
ganization, often neglected in criminological research, prove useful in
analyzing how illegal tasks are performed-a utility which becomes
more apparent after noting the spatio-temporal requirements of illegal
activities.
THE MINIMAL ELEMENTS OF DIRECT-CONTACT
PREDATORY VIOLATIONS
As we previously stated, despite their great diversity, direct-contact
predatory violations share some important requirements which facilitate
analysis of their structure. Each successfully completed violation mini-
mally requires an offender with both criminal inclinations and the abili-
ty to carry out those inclinations, a person or object providing a suitable
target for the offender, and absence of guardians capable of preventing vi-
olations. We emphasize that the lack of anyone of these elements nor-
mally is sufficient to prevent such violations from occurring. 7. Though
guardianship is implicit in everyday life, it usually is marked by the ab-
sence of violations; hence it is easy to overlook. While police action is an-
alyzed widely, guardianship by ordinary citizens of one another and of
property may be one of the most neglected elements in sociological reM
search on crime, especially since it links seemingly unrelated social roles
and relationships to the occurrence or absence of illegal acts.
The conjunction of these minimal elements can be used to assess
how social structure may affect the tempo of each type of violation. That
is, the probability that a violation will occur at any specific time and
place might be taken as a function of the convergence of likely offenders
and suitable targets in the absence of capable guardians. Through con-
sideration of how trends and fluctuations in social conditions affect the
frequency of this convergence of criminogenic circumstances, an expla-
nation of temporal trends in crime rates can be constructed.
THE ECOLOGICAL NATURE OF ILLEGAL ACTS
This ecological analysis of direct-contact predatory violations is intend-
ed to be more than metaphorical. In the context of such violations, peo-
ple, gaining and losing sustenance, struggle among themselves for
property, safety, territorial hegemony, sexual outlet, physical control,
and sometimes for survival itself. The interdependence between of-
C~~..4 ......... ., .... ..4 H;,..~;rnC' ... " ..... ho U;O'MOr! ,,:0<;: ~ nrprl~tnT\' rp1;ltlnn.c;hin hpMPpn
 600 New Directions in Deviance Theory
~ctio~ally dissimilar individuals or groups. Since predatory violations
fail to YIeld any ~et gain in s~tenance for the larger community, they
can only be sustamed by feeding upon other activities. As offenders co-
ope-:ate ~o ,increase t~eir efficiency at predatory violations and as po-
tential VICtimS ~rg~~ t~eir resi~tance to th~se violations, both groups
apply the symbIOtic prmcIple to Improve therr sustenance position. On
the other hand, potential victims of predatory crime may take evasive
actions which encourage offenders to pursue targets other than their
own. Since illegal activities must feed upon other activities, the spatial
and temp.oral structure of routine legal activities should play an impor-
tant role ill determining the location, type and quantity of illegal acts
occurnng ill a gIven community Or society. Moreover, one can anal yze
how the structure of community organization as well as the level of
technology in a society provide the circumstances under which crime
can thrive. For example, technology and organization affect the capaci-
ty of persons. with crin:i~al inclinations to overcome their targets, as
well as affecting the ability of guardians to contend with potential of-
fenders by. uSI.ng whatever protective tools, weapons and skills they
~ave at therr dlsp~sal. ~any technological advances designed for legit-
lIDate purposes-mcIudmg the automobile, small power tools, hunting
weapo~, highways, telephones, etc.-may enable offenders to carry
out. therr own work more effectively or may assist people in protecting
theIr own or someOne else's person or property.
. Not only do routine legitimate activities often provide the where-
WIthal to commit offenses or to guard against others who do so, but
t~ey also provide offenders with suitable targets. Target suitability is
likely to reflect such things as value (i.e., the material or symbolic de-
S~~bility of a personal or property target for offenders), physical visi-
bIlIty, acce~s, an~ the inertia of a target against illegal treatment by
offenders (mcIudmg the weight, size, and attached or locked features
of property inhibiting its illegal removal and the physical capacity of
persona~ VICo.n:S.t~ resist attackers with or without weapons). Routine
pro~uction actiVIties probably affect the suitability of consumer goods
for illegal removal by determining their value and weight. Daily activ-
lties may ~ffect the location of property and personal targets in visible
and acceSSIble places at particular times. These activities also may cause
people to have on h:m-d objects that can be used as weapons for criminal
act~ or self-protectIon or to be preoccupied with tasks which reduce
thel! capacity to discourage or resist offenders.
While little is known about conditions that affect the convergence of
potential offenders, targets and guardians this a potentially rich SOurce
of propOSItIons about cri'me rates. For example, daily work activities
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 601
separate many people from those they trust and the property they value.
Routine activities also bring together at various times of day or rught
persons of ~erent background, sometime~ ~ the prese~ce of fac~ties,
tools or weapons which influence the comnussIOn or aVOIdance of illegal
acts. Hence, the timing of work, schooling and leisure may be of central
importance for explaining crime rates.
The ideas presented so far are not new, but they freque~tly at:
o~er­
looked in the theoretical literature on crime. Although an mvestigation
of the literature uncovers significant examples of descriptive and prac-
tical data related to the routine activities upon which illegal behavior
feeds, these data seldom are treated within an analytical framework
The next section reviews some of this literature.
RELATION OF THE ROUTINE ACTIVITY
APPROACH TO EXTANT STUDIES
A major advantage of the routine activity approach presented he~e ~
that it helps assemble some diverse and previously unconnected CflrrU-
nological analyses into a single substantive framework This framework
also serves to link illegal and legal activities, as illustrated by a few ex-
amples of descriptive accounts of criminal activity.
DESCRIPTIVE ANALYSES
There are several descriptive analyses of criminal acts in criminological
literature. For example, Thomas Reppetto's (1974) study, Residential Clime,
considers how residents supervise their neighborhoods and streets and
limit access of possible offenders. He also considers how distance of
households from the central city reduces risks of criminal victimization.
Reppetto's evidence-consisting of criminal justice records, observations
of comparative features of geographic areas, victimization ~urvey data
and offender interviews-indicates that offenders are very likely to use
burglary tools and to have at least minimal technical skills, that physical
characteristics of dwellings affect their victimization rates, that the
rhythms of residential crime rate patterns are marked (often related .to
travel and work patterns of residents), and that visibility of potential
sites of crime affects the risk that crimes will occur there. Similar findings
are reported by Pope's (1977a; 1977b) study of burglary in California and
by ScaIT's (1972) study of burglary in and around the District of Colum-
bia. In addition, many studies report that architectural and enVIronmen-
tal design as well as community crime programs serve to decrease target
602 New Directions in Deviance Theory
suitability and increase capable guardianship (see, for example, New-
man, 1973; jeffery, 1971; Washnis, 1976), while many biographical or au-
tobiographical descriptions of illegal activities note that lawbreakers take
into account the nature of property and/ or the structure of human ac-
tivities as they go about their illegal work (see, e.g., Charnbliss, 1972;
Klockars, 1974; Sutherland, 1937; Letkemann, 1973; Jackson, 1969; Martin,
1952; Maurer, 1964; Cameron, 1964; Williamson, 1968).
Evidence that the spatia-temporal organization of society affects
patterns of crime can be found in several sources. Strong variations in
specific predatory crime rates from hour to hOllI, day to day, and month
to month are reported often (e.g., Wollgang, 1958; Amir, 1971; Repetto,
1974; Scarr, 1972; FBI, 1975; 1976), and these variations appear to corre-
spond to the various tempos of the related legitimate activities upon
which they feed. Also at a microsociologicallevel, Short and Strodtbeck
(1965: chaps. 5 and 11) describe opportunities for violent confrontations
of gang boys and other community residents which arise in the context
of community leisure patterns, such as "quarter parties" in black com-
munities, and the importance, in the calculus of decision making em-
ployed by participants in such episodes, of low probabilities of legal
intervention. In addition, a wealth of empirical evidence indicates strong
spatial variations over community areas in crime and delinquency rates3
(for an excellent discussion and review of the literature on ecological
studies of crimes, see Wilks, 1967). Recently, Albert Reiss (1976) has ar-
gued convincingly that these spatial variations (despite some claims to
the contrary) have been supported consistently by both official and un-
official sources of data. Reiss further cites victimization studies which in-
dicate that offenders are very likely to select targets not far from their
Own residence (see USDj, 1974a; 1974b; 1974c).
MACROLEVEL ANALYSES OF CRIME TRENDS AND CYCLES
Although details about how crime occurs are intrinsically interesting,
the important analytical task is to learn from these details how illegal ac-
tivities carve their niche within the larger system of activities. This task
is not an easy one. For example, attempts by Bonger (1916), Durkheim
(1951; 1966), Henry and Short (1954), and Fleisher (1966) to link the rate
of illegal activities to the economic condition of a society have not been
completely successful. Empirical tests of the relationships postulated in
the above studies have produced inconsistent results which some ob-
servers view as an indication that the level of crime is not related sys-
tematically to the economic conditions of a society (Mansfield et al.,
1974: 463; Cohen and Felson, 1979).
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 603
It is possible that the wrong economic and social factors have been
employed in these macro studies o~ cr~e. Other rese~rchers have pro-
vided stimulating alternative descnptions of how SOCial change affects
the criminal opportunity structure, thereby influencing crime rates in
particular societies. For example, at the beginning of the nineteenth cen-
tury, Patrick Colquhoun (1800) presented a d~tailed, lucid description
and analysis of crime in the London metropolitan area and suggestions
for its control. He assembled substantial evidence that London was ex-
periencing a massive crime wave attributable to a great increment in
the assemblage and movement of valuable goods through its ports and
tenninals.
A similar examination of crime in the period of the English indus-
trial expansion was carried out by a modem historian, j.j. Tobias (1967),
whose work on the history of crime in nineteenth century England IS
perhaps the most comprehensive eff~rt t~ isolat~ those.elemen~ of so~al
change affecting crime in an expandmg mdustrial nation. Tobms details
how far-reaching changes in transportation, currency, technolo~ com-
merce, merchandising, poverty, housing, and the like, had tremendous
repercussions on the amount and type of illegal activities co~tt~d in
the nmeteenth century. His thesis is that structural transformations eIther
facilitated or impeded the opporhmities to engage in illegal activities. in
one of the few empirical studies of how recent social change affects the
opporhmity structure for crime in the United States, Leroy Gould (1969)
demonstrated that the increase in the circulation of money and the aVaIl-
ability of automobiles between 1921 and 1965 apparently led to an in-
crease in the rate of bank robberies and auto theftsr respectively. Gould's
data suggest that these relationships are due more to the abundan~e of
opportunities to perpetrate the crimes than to short-term fluctuations
in economic activities.
Although the sociological and historical studies cited in this secti?n
have proVided some useful empi1'ical generalizations and important m-
sights into the incidence of crime, it is fair to say that they hav.e not ar-
ticulated systematically the theoretical linkages between routine legal
activities and illegal endeavors. Thus, these studies cannot explain how
changes in the larger social structure generate changes in the ~pportu­
nity to engage in predatory crime and hence account for cnme rate
trends.4 To do so requires a conceptual framework such as that sketched
in the preceding section. Before attempting to demon~trate th: feasib~­
ity of this approach with macrolevel data, we examme avaIlable nu-
crolevel data for its consistency with the major assumptions of this
approach.
 604 New Directions in Deviance Theory
MICRO LEVEL ASSUMPTIONS OF THE ROUTINE ACTIVITY ApPROACH
The theoretical approach taken here specifies that crime rate trends in
the post-World War IT United States are related to patterns of what we
have called routine activities. We define these as any recurrent and
prevalent activities which provide for basic population and individual
needs, whatever their biological or cultural origins. Thus routine activ-
ities would include formalized work, as well as the provision of stan-
dard food, shelter, sexual outlet, leisure, social interaction, learning and
childrearing. These activities may go well beyond the minimal levels
needed to prevent a population's extinction, so long as their prevalence
and recurrence makes them a part of everyday life.
Routine activities may occur (1) at home, (2) in jobs away from
home, and (3) in other activities away from home. The latter may in-
volve primarily household members or others. We shall argue that, since
World War IT, the United State has experienced a major shift of routine
activities away from the first category into the remaining ones, espe-
cially those nonhousehold activities involving nonhousehold members.
In particular, we shall argue that this shift in the structure of routine ac-
tivities increases the probability that motivated offenders will converge
in space and time with suitable targets in the absence of capable
guardians, hence contributing to significant increases in the direct-con-
tact predatory crime rates over these years.
If the routine activity approach is valid, then we should expect to
find evidence for a number of empirical relationships regarding the na-
ture and distribution of predatory violations. For example, we would ex-
pect routine activities performed within or near the home and among
family or other primary groups to entail lower risk of criminal victim-
ization because they enhance guardianship capabilities. We should also
expect that routine daily activities affect the location of property and
personal targets in visible and accessible places at particular times, there-
by influencing their risk of victimization. Furthermore, by determining
their size and weight and in some cases their value, routine production
activities should affect the suitability of consumer goods for illegal re-
movaL Finally, if the routine activity approach is useful for explaining
the paradox presented earlier, we should find that the circulation of peo-
ple and property, the size and weight of consumer items etc., will par-
allel changes in crime rate trends for the post-World War II United
States.
The veracity of the routine activity approach can be assessed by
analyses of both rnicrolevel and macrolevel interdependencies of human
activities. While consistency at the former level may appear noncontro-
upr<:;:::d nr pupn o1-nr;011<: nnp nnnpthpip<:<: npprl<: tn <:hnur th"t rhp
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson 605
proach does not contradict existing data before proceeding to investigate
the latter level.
EMPIRICAL ASSESSMENT
CIRCUMSTANCES AND LOCATION OF OFFENSES
The routine activity approach specifies that household and family ac-
tivities entail lower risk of criminal victimization than nonhousehold-
nonfamily activities, despite the problems in measuring the former. 5
National estimates from large-scale government victimization sur-
veys in 1973 and 1974 support this generalization (see methodological
information in Hindelang et al., 1976: Appendix 6). Table 39.1 presents
several incident-victimization rates per 100,000 population ages 12 and
older. Clearly, the rates in Panels A and B are far lower at or near home
than elsewhere and far lower among relatives than others. The data in-
dicate that risk of victimization varies directly with social distance be-
tween offender and victim. Panel C of this table indicates, furthermore,
that risk of lone victimization far exceeds the risk of victimization for
groups. These relationships are strengthened by considering time bud-
get evidence that, on the average, Americans spend 16.26 hours per day
at home, 1.38 hours on streets, in parks, etc., and 6.36 hours in other
places (Szalai, 1972:795). Panel D of Table 39.1 presents our estimates of
victimization per billion person-hours spent in such 10cations. 15 for ex-
ample, personal larceny rates (with contact) are 350 times higher at the
hands of strangers in streets than at the hands of nonstrangers at home.
Separate computations from 1973 victimization data (USDj, 1976: Table
48) indicate that there were two motor vehicle thefts per million vehicle-
hours parked at or near home, 55 per million vehicle-hours in streets,
parks, playgrounds, school grounds or parking lots, and 12 per million
vehicle-hours elsewhere. While the direction of these relationships is
not surprising, their magnitudes should be noted. It appears that risk of
criminal victimization varies dramatically among the CITClUIlStances and
locations in which people place themselves and their property.
TARGET SUITABILITY
Another assumption of the routine activity approach is that target suit-
ability influences the occurrence of direct-contact predatory violations.
Though we lack data to disaggregate all major components of target
"T'I_ <:11ibhilihr (i_P .. V::ll11P. visihilitv. accessibility and inertia), together they
 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Pelson 607
606 New Directions in Deviance Theory

imply that expensive and movable durables, such as vehicles and elec-
tronic appliances, have the highest risk of illegal removal.
As a specific case in point, we compared the 1975 composition of
stolen property reported in the Uniform Crime Report (FBI, 1976: Ta-
bles 26-7) with national data on personal consumer expenditures for
goods (CEA, 1976: Tables 13-16) and to appliance industry estimates of
the value of shipments the same year (Merchandising Week, 1976). We
calculated that $26.44 in motor vehicles and parts were stolen for each
$100 of these goods consumed in 1975, while $6.82 worth of electronic
appliances were stolen per $100 consumed. Though these estimates are
subject to error in citizen and police estimation, what is important here
is their size relative to other rates. For example, only Bit worth of non-
durables and 121t worth of furniture and nonelectronic household
durables were stolen per $100 of each category consumed, the motor
vehicle risk being, respectively, 330 and 220 times as great. Though we
lack data on the "stocks" of goods subject to risk, these "flow" data
clearly support our assumption that vehicles and electronic appliances
are greatly overrepresented in thefts.
The 1976 Buying Guide issue of Consumer Reports (1975) indicates
why electronic appliances are an excellent retail value for a thief. For ex-
ample, a Panasonic car tape player is worth $30 per lb., and a Phillips
phonograph cartridge is valued at over $5,000 per lb., while large appli-
ances such as refrigerators and washing machines are only worth $1 to $3
per lb. Not surprisingly, burglary data for L.".P. District of Columbia in
1969 (Scarr, 1972: Table 9) indicate that home entertainment items alone
c c constituted nearly four times as many stolen items as clothing, food,
;::~ Rr<:JOO ::D~RRgj!,;,;
,...... [1") ...... ,...., drugs, liquor, and tobacco combined and nearly eight times as many
stolen items as office supplies and equipment. In addition, 69% of na-
'""' tional thefts classified in 1975 (FBI, 1976: Tables 1, 26) involve automobiles,
their parts or accessories, and thefts from automobiles or thefts of bicycles.
Yet radio and television sets plus electronic components and accessories
totaled only 0.10% of the total truckload tonnage terminated in 1973 by in-
tercity motor carriers, while passenger cars, motor vehicle parts and ac-
cessories, motorcycles, bicycles, and their parts, totaled only 5.5% of the
410 million truckload tons terminated (ICC, 1974). Clearly, portable and
movable durables are reported stolen in great disproportion to their share
of the value and weight of goods circulating in the United States.

FAMILY ACTIVITIES AND CRIME RATES

One would expect that persons living in single-adult households and

those employed outside the home are less obligated to confine their time
h..,. t:...,...,..,il" ., ... ~;.t';-I-i",<" ~Hi~h; ... ]..,,..,.,,<"0]..,,..,.1.4,,, 'P..,...rn '" ..""t-i .... "" ~ ... H,,;kr ..... 0 ...: ... ""... _
608 New Directions in Deviance Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 609

tive, these persons and their households should have higher rates of
predatory criminal victimization. We also expect that adolescents and
young adults who are perhaps more likely to engage in peer group ac-
tivities rather than family activities will have higher rates of criminal
victimization. Finally, married persons should have lower rates than
others. Tables 39.2 and 39.3 largely confirm these expectations (with the
exception of personal larceny with contact). Examining these tables, we
note that victimization rates appear to be related inversely to age and are
lower for persons in "less active" statuses (e.g., keeping house, unable to
work, retired) and persons in intact marriages. A notable exception is
indicated in Table 39.2 where persons unable to work appear more like-
ly to be victimized by rape, robbery and personal larceny with contact
than are other "inactive persons." Unemployed persons also have un-
usually high rates of victimization. However, these rates are consistent
with the routine activity approach offered here: the high rates of vic-
timization suffered by the unemployed may reflect their residential
proximity to high concentrations of potential offenders as well as their
age and racial composition, while handicapped persons have high risk
of personal victimization because they are less able to resist motivated
offenders. Nonetheless, persons who keep house have noticeably lower
rates of victimization than those who are employed, unemployed, in
school or in the armed forces.
As Table 39.3 indicates, burglary and robbery victimization rates
are about twice as high for persons living in single-adult households as
for other persons in each age group examined. Other victimization data
(USDj, 1976: Table 21) indicate that, while household victimization rates I I I I I I I
tend to vary directly with household size, larger households have lower
rates per person. For example, tlle total household victimization rates
(including burglary, household larceny, and motor vehicle theft) per
1,000 households were 168 for single-person households and 326 for
households containing six or more persons. Hence, six people distrib-
uted over six single-person households experience an average of 1,008
household victimizations, more than three times as many as one six-
person household. Moreover, age of household head has a strong rela-
tionship to a household's victimization rate for these crimes. For
households headed by persons under 20, the motor vehicle theft rate is
nine times as high, and the burglary and household larceny rates four
times as high as those for households headed by persons 65 and over
(USDj, 1976: Table 9).
While the data presented in this section were not collected origi-
nally for the purpose of testing the routine activity approach, our efforts
to rework them for these purposes have proven fruitful. The routine
__ L.! __ ! .... _ _ . ___ .. _ _ _1_! _____ !_L __ L _._!LL Lt.._ ..l_L _ _ .. _ _ =__ ..l __ ..l =__ ..l..l:
610 New Directions in Deviance Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cahen and Marcus Felson 611

TABLE 39.3 ROBBERy-BuRGLARY VICTIMIZATION RATES BY AGES AND

NUMBER OF ADULTS IN HOUSEHOLD, 1974 AND 1976
GENERAL SOCIAL SURVEY

NUMBER OF ADULTS IN HOUSEHOLD

ACE ONE TWDOItMORE RATIO

18-35 0.200 (140) 0.095 (985) 2.11

36-55 0.161 (112) 0.079 (826) 2.04
56 and over 0.107 (262) 0.061 (640) 1.76

All ages 0.144 (514) 0.081 (2451) 1.78

(Numbcr~ in r~rentheses ,He the base for computing risk mtes.)

Source: Cillculilted from 1974 and 1976 Genera] Sodal Survey, N"tionai Opinion Reseilrch Center,
University of ChicilgO.

tion, helps to accommodate within a rather simple and coherent ana-

0000
OLnt--.L!1
lytical framework certain findings which, though not necessarily new,
OO~l!)N~'-:'
..... ('-I ..... might otherwise be attributed only "descriptive" significance. In the
next seclion, we examine macrosocial trends as they relate to trends in
crime rates.

I I I .,,,,
000
." CHANGING TRENDS IN ROUTINE ACTIVITY
'" en STRUCTURE AND PARALLEL TRENDS IN CRIME RATES

The main thesis presented here is that the dramatic increase in the re-
ported crime rates in the U .5. since 1960 is linked to changes in the
routine activity structure of American society and to a corresponding
increase in target suitability and decrease in guardian presence. If
such a thesis has validity, then we should be able to identify these so-
cial trends and show how they relate to predatory criminal victimiza-

I
tion rates.

o TRENDS IN HUMAN ACTIVITY PATTERNS

U
The decade 1960-1970 experienced noteworthy trends in the activities of
the American population. For example, the percent of the populations
consisting of female college students increased 118% (USBC, 1975: Table
225). Married female labor force participant rates increased 31% (USBC,
~-- _.- --- -... . , . , . ' , ..
612 New Directions in Deviilllce Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 613

important 31 % increase in the percent of the population ages 15-24, age

TABLE 39.4 PROPORTION OF HOUSEHOLDS UNATIENDED BY ANYONE 14 structu:e change. was only o~1e of many social trends occurring during
YEARS OLD OR OVER BY TIME OF DAY DURING FmST VISIT BY the pe.nod, es~eCIally trends In the circulation of people and property in
CENSUS BUREAU INTERVIEWER, 1960 AND 1971 Amertcan sOClety?
The importance of the changing activity structure is underscored
NOVEMBER,1971 by taking a bri~f look at demographic changes between the years 1970
1960 CurmENTPorULATION PERCENT and 1975, a penod of continuing crime rate increments. Most of the re-
TIME OF DAY CENSUS SURVEY CHANGE
cent changes in ~ge structure relevant to crime rates already had oc-
8:00-859 a.m. 29% 43 +48.9% curred by 1970; mdeed, the proportion of the population ages 15-24
9:00-9:59 a.m. 29 44 +58 increased by only 6% between 1970 and 1975, compared with a 15% in-
10:00-10:59 a.m. 31 42 +36 crease d~ring the five years 1965 to 1970. On the other hand, major
11:00-11:59 a.m. 32 41 +28 changes In the Structure of routine activities continued during these
12:00-12:59 p.m. 32 41 +28
1:OCJ.-]:59 p.m. 31 43 +39 years. For example, in only five years, the estimated proportion of the
2:00-2:59 p.m 33 .!"
_0 +30 population consisting of husband-present, married women in the labor
3:00-3:59 p.m. 30 33 +10 force households increased by 11 %, while the estimated number of non-
4:00-4:59 p.m. 28 30 +7 husband-wife households per 100,000 population increased from 9150 to
5:00-5:59 p.m. 22 26 +18
11,420, a 25% increase (USBC, 1976: Tables 50, 276; USBC, 1970:1975).
6:00-6:59 p.m. 22 25 +14
7:00-7:50 p.m. 20 29 +45 At the same time, the percent of population enrolled in higher education
8:00-8:59 p.m. 24 22 -8 increased 16% between 1970 and 1975.

Source: Cillcu!ilted from USBC (197Jb: Table A). RELATED PROPERTY TRENDS AND THEIR RELATION TO
HU~Lolli ACTIVITY PATTERNS

Man~ of the activ.ity trends mentioned above normally involve signifi-

individuals increased by 34% (USBC, 1975: Table 51; see also Kobrin, 1976).
We gain some further insight into changing routine activity patterns by
comparing hourly data for 1960 and 1971 on households ,,"attended by
persons ages 14 or over when U.s. census interviewers first called (see
Table 39.4). These data suggest that the proportion of households unat-
tended at 8 A.M. increased by almost half between 1960 and 1971. One
also finds increases in rates of out-af-town tTavel, which provides greater
opporttmity for both daytime and nighttime burglary of residences. Be-
tween 1960 and 1970, there was a 72% increase in state and national park
visits per capita (USBC, 1975), a 144% increase in the percent of plant
workers eligible for three weeks vacation (BLS, 1975: Table 116), and a
184% increase in overseas travellers per 100,00 population (USBC, 1975:
Table 366). The national Travel Survey, conducted as part of the U.S.
Census Bureau's Census of Transportation, confinns the general trends,
tallying an 81 % increase in the number of vacations taken by Americans
from 1967 to 1972, a five-year period (USBC, 1973a: Introduction).
The dispersion of activities away from households appears to be a
major recent social change. Although this decade also experienced an
can~ Investments u: durable goods. For example, the dispersion of pop-
ulation across relatively mOre households (especially non-husband-wife
households) enlarges the market for durable goods such as television
sets and automobiles. Women participating in the labor force and both
men and women enrolled in college provide a market for automobiles.
Both work and travel often involve the purchase of major movable or
portable durables and their use away from home.
Considerable data are available which indicate that sales of con-
sumer goods changed dramatically between 1960 and 1970 (as did ti1eir
SIze and weight), hence providing more suitable property available for
theft. For example, during this decade, constant-dollar personal con-
~umer expenditures in the United States for motor vehicles and parts
~creased by 71 %, while constant-dollar expenditures for other durables
mcreased by 105% (calculated from CEA, 1976: Table B-16). In addition,
electroruc household appliances and small houseware shipments in-
creased from 56.2 to 119.7 million units (Electrical Merchalldisi11g Week,
1964;lvlerchmldlsmg Week, 1973). During the same decade, appliance im-
port mcreased in value by 681 % (USBC, 1975: Table 1368).
614 New Directions in Deviance Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 615

The same period appears to have spawned a revolution in small

durable product design which further feeds the opportunity for crime to TABLE 39.5 OFFENSE ANALYSIS TRENDS FOR ROBBERY, BURGLARY,
occur. Relevant data from the 1960 and 1970 Sears catalogs on the weight LARCENY AND MURDER; UNITED STATES, 1960-1975
of many consumer durable goods were examined. Sears is the nation's
largest retailer and its policy of purchasing and relabeling standard man- A. Robberies
il
1960 1965 1970
ufactured goods makes its catalogs a good source of data on Widely Highway robbery 52.6 57.0 59.8
merchandised consumer goods. The lightest television listed for sale in Residential robbery 8.0 10.1 13.1
Commercial robbery 39.4 32.9 27.1
1960 weighed 38Ibs., compared with 151bs. For 1970. Thus, the lightest Totals 100.0 100.0 100.0
televisions were 21fz times as heavy in 1960 as 1970. Similar trends are
B. Burglaries 1960 1965 1970 1975
observed for dozens of other goods listed in the Sears catalog. Data from
Residential 15.6 24.5 31.7 33.2
Consumer Reports Buying Guide, published in December of 1959 and 1969, 25.2 25.8 30.5
Residential nighttime 24.4
show similar changes for radios, record players, slide projectors, tape Commercial 60.0 50.2 42.5 ..QQ,;l
recorders, televisions, toasters, and many other goods. Hence, major de- Totals 100.0 99.9 100.0 100.0
clines in weight betw-een 1960 and 1970 were quite significant for these 1960 1965 1970 1975
C. Larcenies
and other goods, which suggests that the consumer goods market may 6.0 7.8 9.2 11.3
Shoplifting
be producing many more targets suitable for theft. In general, one finds Other 94.0 92.2 ....9illl. 88.7
rapid growth in property suitable for illegal removal and in household Totals 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
and individual exposure to attack during the years 1960-1975. D. Murders 1963 1965 1970 1975
Relative killings 31.0 31.0 23.3 22.4
Romance, arguments b 51.0 48.0 47.9 45.2
RELATED TRENDS IN BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS 32.4
Felon types': 17.0 21.0 28.8
Of course, as households and individuals increased their ownership of Totals 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
small durables, businesses also increased the value of the merchandise
which they transport and sell as well as the money involved in these Source: Offense analysis from UCR, various years.
transactions. Yet the Census of Business conducted in 1958, 1963, 1967, "Excluding miscellanl"ous robberies. The 1975 distribution omittl"d due to app~renl insl~bility of
and 1972 indicate that the number of wholesale, retail, service, and pub- post-1970 data.
lic warehouse establishments (including establishments ovvned by large bIncludes romantic triangles, lovers' quarrels and arguments.
organizations) was a nearly constant ratio of one for every 16 persons in <Includes both known and suspected felon types.
the United States. Since more goods and money were distributed over a
relatively fixed number of business establishments, the tempo of busi-
ness activity per establishment apparently was increasing. At the same
time, the percent of the population employed as sales clerks or sales- COMPOSITION OF CRIME TRENDS
men in retail trade declined from 1.48% to 1.27%, between 1960 and U these changes in the circulation of people and property are in f~ct re-
1970, a 14.7% decline (USBC, 1975: Table 589). lated to crime trends, the composition of the latter should reflect this. We
Though both business and personal property increased, the chang- expect relatively greater increase~ in pe:s~n~l ar:d hous~hold vi~~­
ing pace of activities appears to have exposed the latter to greater rela- ization as compared with most busmess Vlctimizations, whIle shoplifting
tive risk of attack, whether at home or elsewhere, due to the dispersion should increase more rapidly than other type~ of thefts from businesses.
of goods among many more households, while concentrating goods in We expect personal offenses at the hands of strangers to manifest greater
business establishments. However, merchandise in retail establishments increases than such offenses at the hands of nonstrangers. Fmally, reSI-
with heavy volume and few employees to guard it probably is exposed dential burglary rates should increase more in daytime than night~e.
to major increments in risk of illegal removal than is most other business The available time series on the composition of offenses confrrm
property. these expectations. For example, Table 39.5 shows that commercial bur-
 616 New Directions in Deviance Theory
glaries declined from 60% to 36% of the total, while daytime residen-
tial burglaries increased from 16% to 33%. Unlike the other crimes
against business, shoplifting increased its share. Though we lack trend
data on the circumstances of other violent offenses, murder data confirm
our expectations. Between 1963 and 1975, felon-type murders increased
from 17% to 32% of the total. Compared WiU1 a 47% increase in the rate
of relative killings in this period, we calculated a 294% increase in the
murder rate at the hands of known or suspected felon types.
Thus the trends in the composition of recorded crime rates appear to
be highly consistent with the activity structure trends noted earlier. In
the next section we apply the routine activity approach in order to model
crime rate trends and social change in the post World War IT United
States.
THE RELATIONSHIP OF THE HOUSEHOLD ACTIVITY
RATIO TO FIVE ANNUAL OFFICIAL INDEX CRIME
RATES IN THE UNITED STATES, 1947-1974
In this section, we test the hypothesis that aggregate official crime rate
trends in the United States vary directly over time with the dispersion of
activities away from family and household. The limitations of annual
time series data do not allow construction of direct measures of changes
in hourly activity patterns, or quantities, qualities and movements of
exact stocks of household durable goods, but the Current Population
Survey does provide related time series on labor force and household
structure. From these data, we calculate annually (beginning in 1947) a
household activity ratio by adding the number of married, husband-
present female labor force participants (source: BLS, 1975: Table 5) to
the number of non-husband-wife households (source: USBC, 1947-1976),
divicling this Sum by the total number of households in the US. (Source:
USBC, 1947-1976). This calculation provides an estimate of the propor-
tion of American households in year t expected to be most highly ex-
posed to risk of personal and property victimization due to the
dispersion of their activities away from family and household and/or
their likelihood of owning extra sets of durables subject to high risk of
attack. Hence, the household activity ratio should vary directly with of-
ficial index crime rates.
Our empirical goal in this section is to test this relationship, with
controls for those variables which other researchers have linked empir-
ically to crime rate trends-in the United States. Since various researchers
have found such trends to mcrease with the proportion of the population
:_ .. _____ ...l • ___ • _ _ _ ...l._t .. ______ f"C_ •• 10'7r.:. T __ ...l __ ...l
-C~1
II 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 617
and Wellford, 1968; Wellford, 1973), we include the population ages 15-
24 per 100,000 resident population in year t as our first control variable
(source: USBC, various years). Others (e.g., Brenner, 1976a; 1976b) have
found unemployment rates to vary directly with official crime rates over
time, although this relationship elsewhere has been shown to be empir-
ically questionable (see Mansfield et aI., 1974: 463; Cohen and Felson,
1979). Thus, as our second, control variable, we take the standard annual
unemployment rate (per 100 persons ages 16 and over) as a measure of
the business cycle (source: BLS, 1975).
Four of the five crime rates that we utilize here (forcible rape, ag-
gravated assault, robbery and burglary) are tal,en from FBI estimates of
offenses per 100,000 US. population (as revised and reported in OMB,
1973). We exclude larceny-theft due to a major definitional change in
1960 and auto theft due to excessive multicollinearity in the analysis. s
For our homicide indicator we employ the homicide mortality rate
taken from the vital statistics data collected by the Bureau of the Census
(various years). The latter rate has the advantage of being collected
separately from the standard crime reporting system and is thought to
contain less measurement error (see Bowere and Pierce, 1975). Hence,
this analysis of official index crime rates includes three violent offens-
es (homicide, forcible rape, and aggravated assault), one property of-
fense (burglary), and one offense which involves both the removal of
property and the threat of violence (robbery). The analysis thus in-
cludes one offense thought to have relatively low reporting reliability
(forcible rape), one thought to have relatively high reliability (homi-
cide), and three others having relatively intermediate levels of reporting
quality (Ennis, 1967).
Since official crime rates in year t are likely to reflect some accumu-
lation of criminal opportunity and inclinations over several years, one
should not expect these rates to respond solely to the level of the inde-
pendent variables for year t. A useful model of cumulative social change
in circumstances such as this is the difference equation, which can be
estimated in two forms (see Goldberg, 1958). One form takes the first dif-
ference (Y/-Yt- 1) as the dependent variable-in this case, the change in
the official crime rate per 100,000 population between year t-1 and year
t. Alternatively, one can estimate the difference equation in autoregres-
sive form by taking the offical crime rate in year t as a function of the ex-
ogenous predictors plus the official crime rate in year t-1 on the
right-hand side of the equation. (See Land, 1978, for a review of these
and other methods and for references to related literature.) Both forms
are estimable with ordinary least squares methods, which we employ for
the years 1947 through 1974. The N is 28 years for all but the homicide
___ 10ryr.:. c_""':
...... ~ .... I: ....... ...l-.;~l-. ...... l-.1;..,"'-I-; ........ 1".-.." ... ~~ ...................
1\.( ...... '1£:
618 New Directions in Deviance TIleory
Even if a positive relationship between the household activity ratio
and the official crime rates is observed, with controls for age and un-
employment, we are open to the charge that this may be a spurious con-
sequence of autocorrelation of disturbances, that is, the possibility that
residuals are systematically related for nearby time points. While spu-
rious relationships are a risk one also takes in cross-sectional regression
analysis, time-series analysts have devised a variety of methods for
monitoring and adjusting for spuriousness due to this autocorrelation
including the Durbin and Watson (1951) statistic, Durbin's h statisti~
(Ourbin, 1970), the Griliches (1967) criterion, as well as Cochrane and
Orcutt (1949) corrections. We employ (but do not report in detail) these
methods to check for the likelihood that the observed relationship is
spurious. (See Land, 1978, for a review of such tests and the related lit-
erature on their applicability and robustness; see Theil, 1971, for a
methodological review.)
FINDINGS
Our time-series analysis for the years 1947-1974 consistently revealed
positive and statistically significant relationships between the house-
hold activity ratio and each official crime rate change. Whichever offical
crime rate is employed, this finding occurs-whether we take the first
difference for each crime rate as exogenous or estimate the equation in
autoregressive form (with the lagged dependent variable on the right-
hand side of the equation); whether we include or exclude the unem-
ployment variable; whether we take the current scales of variables or
convert them to natural log values; whether we employ the age structure·
variable as described or alter the ages examined (e.g., 14-24, 15-19, etc.).
In short, the relationship is positive and significant in each case.
Before calculating the difference equations, we regressed each crime
rate in year t on the three independent variables for year t This ordi-
nary structural equation also produced consistent positive and signifi-
cant coefficients for the routine activity coefficient, the total variance
explained ranges from 84% to 97%. However, the Durbin-Watson sta-
tistics for these equations indicated high risk of autocorrelation, which is
hardly surprising since tlley ignore lagged effects. Reestimated equa-
tions taking first differences as endogenous reduced the risk of auto-
correlation significantly (and also reduced variance explained to
between 35% and 77%). These equations also consistently produce sig-
nificant positive coefficients for the household activity variable. When
unemployment is included in these equations, its coefficients are all neg-
ative and near zero.
39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 619
The top of the Table 39.6 presents regression estimates of first dif-
ferences for five official crime rates, with the age structure and house-
hold activity variables in year t as the only predictors. Again, the
household activity coefficients are consistently positive, with t ratios al-
ways significant with a one-tailed test. Except for the aggravated as-
sault equation, the household activity variable has a t ratio and
standardized coefficient greater than that of the age structure variable.
The standardized coefficients for the household activity variable range
from.42 to .72, while the age structure coefficients are consistently pos-
itive. In general, the household activity variable is a stronger predictor of
official crime rate trends than the age structure.
The equations.in the top panel of Table 39.6 generally have lower vari-
ance explained but also lower risk of autocorrelation of disturbances than
those reported above. For all five equations, the Durb.in-Watson statistic al-
lows acceptance of the null hypothesis that autocorrelation is absent at
the 1% level. A 5% level (which increases the likelihood of proving the sta-
tistic nonzero) allows us neither to accept nor reject the null hypothesis that
autocorrelation is absent in the homicide and robbery equations.
Though autocorrelation has not been proven to exist in these five
equations, its risk may be sufficient in two to motivate further efforts at
equation estimation (see bottom panel of Table 39.6). We estimated the
equations in autoregresive form to see if the risk abates. Since the
Dmbin-Watson statistic was not designed for evaluating autocorrelation
in these equations, we calculated Durbin's h, a statistic specifically de-
signed for equations estimated with a lagged dependent variable
(Ourbin, 1970), and recently found to be robust for small samples (Mad-
dala and Rao, 1973). This statistic allows acceptance of the null hy-
potheslS (at both 1% and 5% levels) that autocorrelation is absent for all
five equations. Application of the Griliches (1967) criterion further al-
lows acceptance of each equation as manifesting distributing lags rather
than serial correlation. We also employed the Cochrane-Orcutt (1949) it-
erative procedure to calculate a correction estimate for any autocorre-
latio~ .present. The resulting correction for the household activity
coeffICIent proves minimal in all five cases. Finally, we calculated each
of the above equations for natural log values of the relevant variables,
finding again that the household activity coefficient was consistently
positive and statistically significant and the risk of autocorrelation re-
duced still further.
The positive and significant relationship between the household ac-
tivity variable and the official crime rates is robust and appears to hold
for both rnacro- and microlevel datai it explains five crime rate trends, as
well as the changing composition of official crime rates reported in Table
620 New Directions in Deviance Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Mareus Felson 621

39.5, These results suggest that routine activities may indeed provide
the opportunity for many illegal activities to occur.

DISCUSSION

In our judgment many conventional theories of crime (the adequacy of

which usually is evaluated by cross-sectional data, or no data at all)
have difficulty accounting for the annual changes in crime rate trends in

1 the post-World War IT United States. These theories may prove useful in
explaining crime trends during other periods, within specific commu-
nilies, or in particular subgroups of the population. Longitudinal ag-
gregate data for the United States, however, indicate that the trends for
many of the presumed causal variables in these theoretical structures
are in a direction opposite to those hypothesized to be the causes of
crime. For example, during the decade 1960-1970, the percent of the
population below the low-income level declined 44% and the unem-
ployment rate declined 186%. Central city population as a share of the
whole population declined slightly, while the percent of foreign stock de-
clined 0.1 %, etc. (See USBC, 1975: 654, 19, 39).
On the other hand, the convergence in time and space of three ele-
ments (motivated offenders, suitable targets, and the absence of capable
guardians) appears useful for understanding crime rate trends, 'The lack
of any of these elements is sufficient to prevent the occurrence of a suc-
cessful direct-contact predatory crime, The convergence in time and space
of suitable targets and the absence of capable guardians can lead to large
increases in crime rates without any increase or change in the structural
conditions that motivate individuals to engage in crime. Presumably, had
the social indicators of the variables hypothesized to be the causes of
crime in conventional theories changed in the direction of favoring in-
creased crime in the post World War IT United States, the increases in
crime rates likely would have been even more staggering than those
which were observed, In any event, it is our belief that criminologists
have underemphasized the importance of the convergence of suitable tar-
gets and the absence of capable guardians in explaining recent increases
in the crime rate. Furthermore, the effects of the convergence in time and
space of these elements may be multiplicative rather than additive. That
is, their convergence by a fixed percentage may produce increases in crime
rates far greater than that fixed percentage, demonstrating how some rel-
atively modest social trends can contribute to some relatively large
changes in crime rate trends, The fact that logged variables improved our
equations (moving Durbin-Watson values closer to I'ideal" levels) lends
______ ->..1._ .I.1..~ ~ __ .~,,_t. -1-1.. ... .1. ~ ...... l-. ...... : ... t.,... ........... t.; ....... ",.,.............
 Those few investigations of cross-sectional data which include
household indicators produce results similar to ours. For example, Ron-
cek (1975) and Choldin and Roncek (1976) report on block-level data
for San Diego, Cleveland and Peoria and indicate that the proportion
of a block's households which are primary individual households con-
sistently offers the best or nearly the best predictor of a block's crime
rate. This relationship persisted after they controlled for numerous social
variables, including race, density, age and poverty. Thus the association
between household structure and risk of criminal victimization has been
observed in individual-level and block-level cross-sectional data, as well
as aggregate national time-series data.
Without denying the importance of factors motivating offenders to
engage in crime, we have focused specific attention upon violations
themselves and the prerequisites for their occurrence. However, the rou-
tine activity approach might in the future be applied to the analysis of
offenders and their inclinations as well. For example, the structure of
primary group activity may affect the likelihood ti,at cultural transmis-
sion or social control of criminal inclinations will occur, while the struc-
ture of the community may affect the tempo of criminogenic peer group
activity. We also may expect that circumstances favorable for carrying
out violations contribute to criminal inclinations in the long run by re-
warding these inclinations.
We further suggest that the routine activity framework may prove
useful in explaining why the criminal justice system, the community
and the family have appeared so ineffective in exerting social control
since 1960. Substantial increases in the opportunity to carry out preda-
tory violations may have undermined society's mechanisms for social
control. For example, it may be difficult for institutions seeking to in-
crease the certainty, celerity and severity of punishment to compete with
structural changes resulting in vast increases in the certainty, celerity
and value of rewards to be gained from illegal predatory acts.
It is ironic that the very factors which increase the opportunity to
enjoy the benefits of life also may increase the opportunity for predato-
ry violations. For example, automobiles provide freedom of movement
to offenders as well as average citizens and offer vulnerable targets for
theft. College enrollment, female labor force participation, urbanization,
suburbanization, vacations, and new electronic durables provide various
opportunities to escape the confines of the household while they in-
crease the risk of predatory victimization. Indeed, the opportunity for
predatory crime appears to be enmeshed in the opportunity strucrure for
legitimate activities to such an extent iliat it might be very difficult to
root out substantial amounts of crime without modifying much of our
way of life. Rather than assuming that predatory crime is simply an in-
-
dicator of social breakdown, one might take it as a byproduct of freedom
I and prosperity as they manifest themselves in the routine activities of
everyday life.
I
NOTES
1. Though official data severely underestimate crime, they at least provide
I a rough indicator of trends over time in the volume of several major
felonies. The possibility that these data also reflect trends in rates at
which offenses are reported to the police has motiva ted extensive victi-
I mology research (see Nettler, 1974; and Hindelang, 1976, for a review).
This work consistently finds that seriousness of offense is the strongest
determinant of citizen reporting to law enforcement officials (Skogan,
1976: 145; Hindelang, 1976: 401). Hence the upward trend in official crime
rates since 1960 in the U.S. may reflect increases in bOlh the volume and se-
riousness of offenses. Though disaggregating these hN'o components may
not be feasible, one way wish to interpret observed trends as generated
largely by both.
2. The analytical distinction behveen target and guardian is not important in
those cases where a personal target engages in self-protection from direct-
contact predatory violations. We leave open for the present the question of
whether a guardian is effective or ineffective in all situations. We also
allow that various guardians may primarily supervise offenders, targets
or both. These are questions for future examination.
3. One such ecolOgical study by Sarah Boggs (1965) presents some similar
ideas in distinguishing familiarity of offenders with their targets and prof-
itability of targets as two elements of crime occurrence. Bogg's work
stands apart from much research on the ecology of crime in its considera-
tion of crime occurrence rates separately from offender rates. The former
consist of the number of offenses committed in a given area per number of
suitable targets within that area (as estimated by various indicators). The
latter considers the residence of offenders in computing the number of of-
fenders per unit of population. Boggs examines the correlations between
crime occurrence rates and offender rates for several offenses in St. Louis
and shows that the hN'o are often independent. It appears from her analy-
sis that bOtll target and offender characteristics play a central role in the lo-
cation of illegal activity.
4. The concept of the opportunity for crime contained in the above research
and in this study differs conSiderably from the traditional sociolOgical
usage of the differelltial opportunity concept. For example, Cloward and
OhIin (1960) employed this term in discussing how legitimate and illegiti-
mate opportunities affect the resolution of adjustment problems leading to
gang delinquency. From their viewpoint, this resolution depends upon the
kind of social support for one or another type of illegitimate activity that
is given at different points in the social structure (Cloward and Ohlin,
 624 New Directions in Deviance Theory 39. Lawrence E. Cohen and Marcus Felson 625

1960: 151). Rather than circlUtlStantial determinants of crime, they use dif-
ferential opportunity to emphasize structural features which motivate of-
fenders to perpetrate certain types of crimes. Cloward and Ohlin are
largely silent on the interaction of this motivation with target suitability
and guardianship as this interaction influences crime rates.
5. Recent research indicates the existence of substantial quantities of family
violence which remains outside of VCR data (see annotated bibliography
of family violence in Lystad, 1964). While we cannot rule out the W(eli-
hood that much family violence is concealed from victimization surveys,
the latter capture information absent from police data and still indicate
that nonfamily members are usually much more dangerous than family
members are to each other (see text). Also, when family violence leads to
death, its suppression becomes quite difficult. TIle murder circumstances
data indicate that about two-thirds of killings involve nonrelatives. With-
out denying the evidence that the level of family violence is far greater
than police reports would indicate, available data also suggest that time
spent in family activities within households incurs less risk of victimiza-
tion than many alternative activities in other places. In addition, many of
the most commOll offenses (such as robbery and burglary) always have
been recognized as usually involving nonfamily members.
6. Billion person-hours can easily be conceptualized as 1,000,000 persons
spending 1,000 hours each (or about 42 days) in a given location (Szalai,
1972:795). Fox obtained these data from a 1966 time budget study in 44
American cities. The study was carried out by the Survey Research Center,
the University of Michigan. We combined four subsamples in computing
our figures. We combined activities into three locations, as follows: (1) at
or just outside home; (2) at another's home, restaurants or bars, or indoor
leisure; (3) in streets, parks, or outdoor leisure. Our computing formula
was
Q = [(R-IO') + (A' 365)] '10.'
where Q is the risk per billion person-hours; R is the victimization rate, re-
ported per 105 persons in Hindelang et a1. (1976: Table 318); A is the hours
spent per location calculated from Szalai (1972: 795); 365 is the multiplier
to cover a year's exposure to risk, and 10 9 converts risk per person-hour to
billion person-hours.
7. While the more sophisticated treatments of the topic have varied some-
what in their findings, most recent studies attempting to link crime rate
increases to the changing age structure of tile American population have
found that the latter account for a relatively limited proportion of the gen-
eral crime trend (see, for example, Sagi and Wellford, 1968; Ferdinand,
1970; and Welliord, 1973).
8. The auto theft rate lagged one year correlated quite strongly with the pre-
dictor variables. This multicollinearity impaired our difference equation
analysis, although we again found consistently positive coefficients for the
household activity· ratio. We were able to remove autocorrelation by log-
ging all variables
__ ~
and' including the unemployment as a control, but do
_____ ._t.-: __ _
_ _ _ _ -..I. ~L
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 630 New Directions in Deviance Theory
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V Clarke 631

Tobias, J. J.
1967 Crime and Industrial Society in the Nineteenth C tur N v 40 Understanding Crime Displacement: An Application of
Schocken Books. en y. ew ~ork:
Rational Choice Theory
U.S. Bureau of Census (USBC) DEREK B. CORNISH and RONALD V. CLARKE
1973a Census of Transportation 1972 US S UT h'
US.. G overnment Printing' Office.
" . ummary:. vvas mgton, DC . .: The model of the offender as a decision maker underlies much crimi-
1973b Who's Home When. Working Pa er 37. Washin . nological work recently undertaken by psychologists, economists, and
ernment Printing Office. P gton, D.e.. U.S. Gov- sociologists of deviance (Clarke and Cornish, 1985; Cornish and Clarke,
1975- Statistical Abstract of the U 5 Wasl . 1986a). This "rational choice" perspective on crime assumes that of-
1976 Printing Office . . ungton, D.e.: U.S. Government
fenders seek to benefit themselves by their criminal behaviori that this
194 7- Current Po~ulation Studies. P-25 Series. Washington DC' US G involves the maldng of decisions and choices, however rudimentary
1976 emment Prmting Office. ' . .. " ov-
on occasions these choices might be; and that these processes, con-
U.S. Department of justice (USD)) strained as they are by time, the offender's cognitive abilities, and by
1974a ~eli~ary Report of the Impact Cities, Crime Survey Results the availability of relevant information, exhibit limited rather than nor-
aslungton, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistance Admin' t ti . mative rationality. Our own formulation of rational choice theory was
(NC)lSS). IS Ta on
1974b C' , founded on the additional premise that the decision processes and the
nme ill the Nation's Five Largest Cities: Advance Report lAr hin factors taken into account are likely to vary greatly at the different
ton DC, Law Enf tA . . nas g-
1974c Ciline~ " . o~cemen SSlStance Administration (NC]ISS). stages of decision making and among different crimes. For this reason,
y timizan~ Victims.. A Report on the Day ton-San Jose Pilot Survey of we drew attention to the needs both to be crime-specific when analyz-
I: . ation. Washington, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistance Ad
rrurustration. - ing criminal choices and to treat decisions relating to the various stages
1976 Criminal Victimizations in the V.S., 1973 Washin of criminal involvement in particular crimes (initial involvement, con-
fo~ce~ent Assistance Administration (NCJISS) gton, D.e.: Law En- tinuation, deSistance) separately from those, such as target selection,
1977 Cnmmal Victimizatio . th VS. : relating to the criminal event itself (Clarke and Cornish, 1985; Cornish
p' d' . ns me ... A Companson of 1974 and 1975
m. mgs. Washington, D.e.: Law Enforcement Assistan Ad . . and Clarke, 1986a).
tration. (NCIISS). ce nurus-
Washnis, George J.
1976 Citizen Involve t' C .
men ill rune Prevention. Lexington: Heath. A RATIONAL CHOICE PERSPECTIVE ON CRIME
Wellford, Charles F. DISPLACEMENT
1973 "Age compos·ti d th . .
1 on an e illcrease ill recorded crime C' . I
11
11:61-70. ' nmmo ogy Our intention in developing an emphasis upon criminal decision mak-
Wilks, Judith A. ing was to provide a general framework for thinking about the pre-
1967
"Ecological correlates of crime and delinquencvll Pp 138 56' P .
vention and deterrence of crime, but our particular interest in rational
dent's C '. J' . - ill reSl- choice theory arose out of work on "situational" crime prevention-a
OmnuSSlOn On Law Enforcement and th Ad . . .
Justice Task Force Report: Crime and Its Im e numstration of range of preventive measures, including defensible space architecture,
Ap endixA VI; . pact-An Assessment. target-hardening, and neighborhood watch, designed to reduce the
. . p . ashmgton, D.e.: U.S. Government Printin Office
Wilhamson, Henry g . opportunities for, and increase the risks of, committing specific kinds
1968 Hustler! New York: Doubleday. of crime (Clarke, 1983). Despite evidence of its utility, critics have
Wolfgang, Marvin E. seized upon one apparent weakness of the approach: that preventive
1958 Patterns of C' . I H " , measures which increase the difficulties of a particular crime will mere-
varn' a p ress. rmuna olTIlade. Philadelphia: University of Pennsyl-
Reprinted from Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke, "Understanding Criminal Dis-
placement: An Application of Rational Choice Theory," Criminology, vo!. 25, no. 4 (1987),
pp. 933-947. By permiSSion of The American Society of Criminology.
 632 New Directions in Deviance Theory
ly result in criminal activity being "displaced"-for example, to other
targets, times, places, or types of crime (Reppetto, 1976; Gabor, 1981).
Crucial to this objection is the belief that, to the offender, many if not
most crimes are functionally equivalent-a view that derives from the
traditional hydraulic view of offending as the product of enduring
criminal drives or dispositions (Cornish and Clarke, 1986b).
Crucial to the viability of situational approaches, on the other
hand, is the contrasting view that displacement is far from inevitable
and occurs only under particular conditions. Rational choice theory
assumes that offenders respond selectively to characteristics of partic-
ular offenses-in particular, to their opportunities, costs, and bene-
fits-in deciding whether or not to displace their attentions elsewhere.
Indeed, since the existence of criminal dispositions is questioned, so
too is the corresponding notion of criminal "energies" which have to
be displaced into alternative actions. If frustrated from committing a
particular crime, the offender is not compelled to seek out another
crime nor even a noncriminal solution. He may simply desist from
any further action at all, rationalizing his loss of income (for example)
in various ways: "It was good while it lasted"; "I would have ended up
getting caught"; and so on. Such an analysis is consistent with the
available empirical research, which is indicative of the contingent na-
ture of displacement. For example, the fitting of steering column locks
to all cars in West Germany in 1960 brought about a 60% reduction in
car thefts, whereas their introduction only to new cars in Great Britain
displaced theft to the older, unprotected vehicles (Mayhew, Clarke,
Sturman, and Hough, 1976). Again, while a variety of security mea-
sures dramatically reduced airliner hijackings in the early 1970s
(Wilkinson, 1977), a police "crackdown" on subway robberies in New
York City displaced robberies to the street (Chaiken, Lawless, and
Stevenson, 1974).
Research of this kind, however, which merely analyzes crime pat-
terns, is likely to yield only limited information about displacement.
This is because, just as reductions in target crimes brought about by sit-
uational measures may be modest and difficult to detect, especially
when crime as a whole is rising, so, too, evidence of displacement may
lie concealed within the same overall crime statistics. Moreover, such
research on its own fails to provide an adequate explanation for the oc-
currence or absence of displacement, although reasons may sometimes
be inferred. Given these problems, additional ways of investigating
displacement are needed and, in particular, studies which focus upon
the offender's own explanations for his decisions and choices.
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 633
THE CONCEPT OF CHOICE.STRUCTURING
PROPERTIES
A more promising approach to the study of displacement is suggested
by rational choice theory's emphasis upon the need to adopt a crime-
specific focus when attempting to explain or prevent criminal behav-
ior. Rather than assuming that potential offenders are fueled by a general
disposition to offend which makes them relatively indifferent to the na-
ture of the offense they commit, the rational choice perspective asserts
that specific crimes are chosen and committed for specific reasons. De-
cisions to offend, in other words, are influenced by the characteristics of
both offenses and offenders, and are the product of interactions between
the two. Thus, the final decision to become involved in a particular crime
is the outcome of an appraisal process which (however cursory) evalu-
ates the relative merits of a range of potential courses of action, com-
prising all those thought likely in the offender's view to achieve his or
her current objective (for example, for money, sex, or excitement).
It follows that an understanding of the factors which the offender
takes into account when performing this rudimentary cost-benefit analy-
sis is necessary. These factors relate both to offense and offender char-
acteristics but, for the present, can be usefully viewed as those properties
of o£fenses (such as type and amount of payoff, perceived risk, skills
needed, and so on) which are perceived by the offender as being espe-
cially salient to his or her goals, motives, experience, abilities, expertise,
and preferences. Such properties provide a basis for selecting among
alternative courses of action and, hence, effectively strHctllre the offend-
er's choice. The characteristics of offenses which render them differen-
tially attractive to particular individuals or subgroups (or to the same
individuals and groups at different times) have therefore been termed
cllDiee-structllring properties. It follows that the readiness with which the
offender will be prepared to substitute one o££ense for another will de-
pend upon the extent to which alternative offenses share characteristics
which the offender considers salient to his or her goals and abilities. A
recognition of the contingent, crime-specific nature of criminal decision
making therefore has important implications for an understanding of
displacement.
In the absence of information from offenders, some a priori selection
of properties thought likely to be salient to offender decision making
has to be made. For illustrative purposes, this is attempted later in the
paper in relation to two broad groups of offenses-those of theft
involving cash and of illegal substance abuse. TIle concept of choice-
 I:
634 New Directions in Deviance Theory
structuring properties was first employed, however, in the attempt to
clarify policy issues relating to gambling and suicide (Cornish and
Clarke, in press).
In the case of gambling (and following the work of Weinstein and
Deitch, 1974), choice-structuring properties such as number and loca-
tion of gambling outlets, frequency of events on which bets can be made,
time elapsing before payment of winnings, range of odds and stakes,
degree of personal involvement, skills needed or perceived, and "nerve"
required, were employed to identify forms of gambling more or less de-
signed to encourage high degrees of involvement and to attract the par-
ticipation of particularly susceptible individuals (Cornish, 1978). In
Britain, the widespread provision of "betting shops" in prime urban lo-
cations enables off-course gambling to take place throughout the after-
noon. These premises offer a vast range of simple and complex betting
strategies, a feeling of personal involvement and challenge fostered by
the exercise of handicapping skills, and an atmosphere of "action" en-
couraged by the rapidity of events and payouts, presence of other gam-
blers laying bets and collecting winnings, and the use of live television
commentary from the course--a combination of properties which pro-
vides an environment designed to encourage continuous gambling. The
contrast with the choice-structuring properties of lotteries is significant:
lotteries are held relatively infrequently, involve lengthy periods be-
tween staking and payout, offer the minimum of personal involvement,
little scope for social interaction or the exercise of skill (real or per-
ceived), a limited range of odds and bets, and very long odds against
winning. The prime attraction to their adherents, therefore, is the possi-
bility they offer of a big "windfall" for very little initial outlay. "Num-
bers," on the other hand, while ostensibly rather similar to the lottery,
offers a wider variety of staking levels and odds, a larger number of
events and swifter turnaround, greater perceived scope for the invoca-
tion of personal luck, and more social interaction-features which go
some way to explaining why attempts to promote lotteries as legal al-
ternatives to the numbers racket have proved WlSuccessful (Kaplan and
Maher, 1970).
It is in example like these, where activities are examined in some
detail, that the value of choice-structuring properties in clarifying the
unique constellations of motives, opportunities, rewards, and costs of-
fered by different fonns of gambling becomes evident. Attention to these
parameters also suggests a means of controlling participation in poten-
tially dangerous forms of gambling through regulation of these proper-
ties. Indeed, this strategy appears to guide the efforts of regulatory
bodies and legislators when monitoring and controlling certain forms of
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 635
gambling such as betting and gaming, and those of promoters when
trying to increase rates of participation and encourage escalation of in-
volvement into more profitable forms. Manipulation of the choice-struc-
turing properties of bingo, for example, in order to shorten the duration
of individual games, the development of "linked bingo" to enable larg-
er prizes to be offered, and the introduction, as "interval games," of
gaming machines-whose choice-structuring properties, especially
when deliberately manipulated by casino promoters (Hess and DiIler,
1969), tend to encourage continuous gambling-all provide graphic ex-
amples of these strategies (Cornish, 1978).
In the case of suicide, properties of the various methods such as the
degree of prior planning necessary, the courage required, likely pain,
distastefulness of method, extent of disfigurement, time taken to die
when conscious, scope for second thoughts, and chances of interven-
tion, were used to explain why, when deprived of more acceptable
methods, people do not always turn to other means of killing them-
selves. Domestic gas, for example, used to have particular advantages
as a method of suicide: it was painless, very widely available, required
little preparation, was highiy lethal (death could take place in less than
half an hour), was not bloody, and did not disfigure. These features
help to explain how the detoxification of domestic gas-a method that
had formerly accounted for over 50% of all suicides (Kreitman, 1976;
Kreitman and Platt, 1984; C1arke and Mayhew, in press}-brought
about a 35% decline in the national rate of suicide in Britain during
the 1960s. Some population subgroups such as the elderly and the less
mobile may have found these advantages particularly compelling;
there is evidence, for example, that suicidal women are more attracted
by self-poisoning and more repulsed by violent and bloody methods
(Marks, 1977). Since the needs and circumstances of particular sub-
groups may make certain methods uniquely attractive, then, it seems
likely that reducing opportunities to use particular methods need not
simply result in displacement to others, but can bring about genuine
gains in the prevention of suicide deaths. Thus, an apparently obvi-
ous alternative to gassing, such as overdosing, which might appear to
offer many of the same advantages, may nevertheless be subject to dis-
advantages which limit its viability as a substitute; for example, access
to the most lethal drugs may require the cooperation of a doctor, or
long-term planning and the faking of relevant symptoms, in order to
build up sufficient quantities, while the range of more accessible non-
prescription drugs may be either less lethal or, in the case of other al-
ternatives such as domestic poisons, more painful to ingest (Clarke
and Mayhew, in press).
636 New Directions in Deviance Theory
CHOICE.STRUCTURING PROPERTIES OF CRIMES
Identifying an activity's unique blend of choice-structuring properties
emphasizes its distinctive features and this, in turn, facilitates the mak-
ing of comparisons betvveen different activities. But, because crimes are
such a heterogeneous group of behaviors, it is not immediately clear on
what basis to group crimes for comparison. One possible criterion is
suggested by the aim of the exercise, which is to enable the conditions
under which displacement is more or less likely to occur to be speci-
fied. Since few would expect displacement across behaviors engaged in
for widely differing purposes, the goals of offending could provide the
primary criterion for selecting the crimes to be compared. Thus, crimes
whose main purpose appears to be to obtain money might be analyzed
together, while those whose goal is sexual outlet would need to be sep-
arately analyzed. Some a priori determmation-Iater refined by empirical
research-of the purposes being served by particular offenses will tllere-
fore need to be made before they are grouped together in order to ana-
lyze their choice-structuring properties. Although it may be the case
that many crimes serve a mixture of goals, one of these will usually be
dominant. This will provide the appropriate criterion for analysis, the re-
maining subsidiary purposes taking on the role of further choice-struc-
luring properties for tlle particular offenses being compared.
For the sake of simplicity, it has so far been assumed that the indi-
vidual chooses only from among criminal alternatives when seeking to
achieve his goals. Given the wide range of noncrirninal alternatives also
available to the offender, however, confining comparisons of choice-
structuring properties to those among criminal means alone may seem
unduly restrictive. A crime such as drunken driving, for example, whose
purpose is very specific and temporary (that is, the need to get home
after drinking) and in relation to which alternative crimes are few or
none, illustrates the point that for some crimes most, if not all, of the
alternative means being compared will be noncriminal. In addition, dis-
placement will usually be directed in such cases to legal behaviors: more
likely alternatives to drunken driving may be to call a cab, use public
transportation, or walk, rather than to persuade an equally drunk com-
panion to drive the car instead. Notwithstanding this example, it seems
intuitively more likely that criminal behavior will usually be contem-
plated only after legitimate means have been foreclosed or rejected.
Drunken driving, it could be argued, is a special case since one of the ef-
fects of alcohol may be to short-circuit this usual sequence. Under these
circumstances, the capac;ity of the otherwise law-abiding citizen to con-
sider the long-range consequences of his actions may be temporarily
• " . . ••• _1_
40_ Oerek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 637
sooner (Campbell and Gibbs, 1986: 126, 177). If criminal means are usu-
ally only considered at a later stage, this may suggest that they do in
fact have something in common with each other and that these features
provide some justification for limiting comparisons to crimes alone. But,
while this meets the above objections, it also opens the door again to
the very dispositional explanations of offending that the rational choice
perspective was designed to challenge, since it suggests explanations
in terms of offender characteristics, such as the tendency to select means
which offer immediate gratification of needs, regardless of the conse-
quences for others. Consequently, the preference at this stage is to de-
fend confining comparison to crimes alone, not because criminal
behavior is inherently different from other behaviors, but on pragmatic
grounds alone: it is the possibility of displacement to other crimes which
constitutes the major problem for crime-control policy.
Before embarking on a more detailed discussion of their applica-
tion to the problem of crime displacement, it may be useful to provide
hypothetical lists of the choice-structuring properties of two quite dif-
ferent offense groupings: those designed to yield cash (for example, bur-
glary, theft with or without contact, shoplifting, mugging, bank robbery,
fraud, tax evasion, and auto theft); and those concerned with the inges-
tion of illegal substances (such as marijuana, opiates, LSD, cocaine,
"crack," amphetamines, barbiturates, and volatile substances).
As can be seen from Table 40.1, while specifying the dominant pur-
pose and confining comparisons to criminal means takes one some way
toward the goal of drawing up lists of choice-structuring properties, the
resulting groupings of offenses will usually be rather broad. While it
may be tempting to try for somewhat narrower arrays of offenses, such
as those sharing a common modus operandi, this may be unhelpful
when estimating the likelihood of displacement since it may result in
the omission of important choice-structuring properties. In turn, their
omission may make it difficult to explain, for example, why burglars
who prey on distant affluent suburbs would never consider breaking
into apartments in their neighborhood; why the Shoplifter might be re-
luctant to contemplate mugging; or why the computer fraudster might
give up crime entirely if it became too difficult to continue his fraud. In
the course of his investigation of robbers' decision making, for example,
Feeney (1986) notes the surprising fact that many of them thought bur-
glary too unpredictable and risky.
Similar considerations apply to offenses of illegal substance abuse.
An analysis of their choice-stlUcturing properties indicates that different
substances provide different experiences, and this-together with con-
siderations of availability, cost, risk, expertise required, and social con-
~<lvl- nf ","::IITo_,"l1(HTP<::b:: rh;:d- ;:t rti<::ni::lrpmpnt i'lno p,c:;raiation among
638 New Directions in Deviance Theory 40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 639

substances may be more limited than is usually thought. Information

TABLE 40.1 CHOICE-STRUCTURING PROPERTIES OF Two OFFENSE
from opiate abusers, for example, suggests that a desire to join a specif-
GROUPINGS
ic drug culture of users may be an important determinant of initial in-
volvement (Bennett, 1986); an alternative culture such as that
THEFT INVOLVING CASH
represented by teenage glue sniffing may be seen to offer rather differ-
Availability (numbers of targets; accessibility) ent, and less attractive, experiences in terms of social cachet, excitement,
Awareness of method (e.g., pickpocketing vs. insurance fraud) and alternative lile-style. In addition, the specific psychological effects of
Likely cash yield per crime the drugs themselves may restrict substitutability: today's energetic, ac-
Expertise needed
Planning necessary (pickpocketing vs. bank robbery) quisitive "yuppie" cocaine user may typically be of similar social back-
Resources required (transport; equipment) ground to the 1960s cannabis-using hippie, but the effects of cocaine
Solo vs. associates required may be more in tune with modem life-styles and aspirations than those
Time required to commit produced by cannabis.
Cool nerves required (bank robbery vs. computer fraud) Choice-structuring properties may also highlight similarities be-
Risks of apprehension
Severity of punishment tween apparently different behaviors. For example, crimes such as bur-
Physical danger glary on a public housing project, in a middle-class suburb, or in a
Instrumental violence required wealthy enclave may,for some offenders, have fewer attractive properties
Confrontation with victim (mugging vs. burglary) in common than apparently different offenses, such as burglary or mug-
Identifiable victim ging, corrunitted in their own neighborhoods. While the latter offenses
Social cachet (safecracking vs. mugging)
"Fencing" necessary may involve different skills or risks, these may be counterbalanced by
Moral evaluation the advantages of offending within familiar territory. For these reasons,
again, the most appropriate level of analysis for choice-structuring prop-
ILLEGAL SUBSTANCE AnUSE erties would seem to be at the most general level consistent with the
Availability (glue from hardware stores vs. prescription drug) likelihood of displacement.
Awareness (special knowledge of doctors or pharmacists) Since the lists in Table 40.1 derive from a rational choice perspective
Social cachet (cocaine vs. heroin) on offending, they both concentrate upon the opportunities, costs, and
Solitary vs. social benefits of the various alternatives being compared. Though no partic-
Knowledge/skills required to administer (heroin vs. marijuana) ular attempt has been made to reconcile differences between the two
Technical equipment required (heroin)
Dangerousness of substance (crack vs. marijuana) lists, some categories of choice-structuring properties (especially the
Primary method of administration (injecting vs. smoking) more generally applicable ones such as "availability") are common to
Different forms substance can take both, while others inevitably reflect unique features of each offense
Nature of psychological effects grouping. The properties listed are not necessarily those taken into ac-
Number, type, and severity of side effects count by the offender, who may not be fully aware either of the range of
Dependency
Length/intensity of "high" per dose properties involved or of the part they play in his decisions. Rather, the
Financial costs properties listed have been selected on a priori grounds as being of most
Legal penalties relevance to the task of comparing offenses and, hence, of establishing
Detectability the likely limits of displacement within each olfense grouping. Thus,
Interference with everyday tasks there is likely to be more displacement between particular theft offens-
Moral evaluation
es where they share similar profiles of choice-structuring properties-for
example, where the likely cash yield per crime is comparable, where
similar skills and resources are required, and where the physical risks are
the same. In contrast, where the profiles differ, this may clarify why dis-
placement is unlikely to occur. Lastly, some choice-structuring properties
____ 1- __________ ! ___ L_1 •• _1 _ L _ _ 1 ___ !._ .J __!_! _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ! _ _ ...l! __ t __
~
640 New Directions in Deviance Theory
ment. It is generally accepted, for example, that some offenders will not
contemplate crimes which involve the use of violence.
Little is known at present about offender decision making, and be-
cause of this the above lists may need modifying in the light of empiri-
cal research. But even at this stage such lists should provide a useful
tool for those involved in crime prevention. By directing attention to
those features of crimes which make them attractive to particular groups
of offenders, such an approach will make it easier for policy makers to
anticipate the direction and amount of any displacement to other forms
of crime. In the past, for example, uncritical and often hidden assump-
tions that illegal substances are equivalent in their attractiveness and
effects may have had damaging effects upon policy formation through
their tendency to encourage preoccupation with the inevitability of dis-
placement and escalation. Careful attention to choice-structuring prop-
erties of different activities, however, will enable the accuracy of
assessments to be improved about the likely costs and benefits of un-
dertaking new crime prevention initiatives in relation to specific forms
of crimes. The lists will also alert policy makers to action that needs to be
taken in order to forestall criminal displacement or even to facilitate dis-
placement to noncriminal alternatives. Finally, lists of choice-structuring
properties should assist in the evaluation of crime prevention initiatives
by helping to orient the search for displacement.
CHOICE·STRUCTURING PROPERTIES AND
OFFENDER PERCEPTIONS
The choice-structuring properties in Table 40.1 attempt to provide a com-
prehensive list of the salient ways in which crimes with similar goals
differ from each other. Although policy makers require such compre-
hensive information in order to think constructively about displacement,
it should not be assumed that offenders will utilize the data in a similar
way. As mentioned above, they may lack infonnation about the full range
of offenses that could satisfy their goals, they may be unaware of the ex-
tent to which available opportunities have structured their choices, they
may be ignorant of all the costs and benefits of the different offenses,
and they may assign particular importance to certain choice-structuring
properties (such as eschewing the use of violence, or restricting selec-
tion of victims to those of particular socio-economic or ethnic groups),
which then come to exert a disproportionate influence upon involve-
ment and displacement decisions. Moreover, in practice, offenders may
not always talce accounfof the full range of properties. For example, the
_L _. _ • .' ", l' 'T" 1 ." ~ • 1 1 .....
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 641
individual's initial decision whether or not to get involved in a particular
crime. They may have rather less application to more immediate deci-
sions relating to the commission of a particular offense (or what may be
termed the criminal "event"), although a similar comparison process-al-
beit using a different and more restricted range of properties-undoubt-
edly takes place when potential targets or victims are being compared.
The present lists would become more salient again when, having com-
mitted the offense, the offender had to decide whether to continue with
a particular form of crime or to desist. Last, as a result of the experience
of committing the offense in question, further choice-structuring prop-
erties may become apparent to the offender and existing ones may as-
sume a different value. Thus, the degree of steady nerves required may
only become apparent once a mugging has been attempted.
As well as exemplifying one of the major premises of the rational
choice perspective-that the offender's decision-making processes will
tend to display limited rather than normative rationality-the above
points also illustrate the dynamic nature of criminal decision making.
Thus far it might well appear that a rather passive role has been as-
signed to choice-structuring properties in that it has been implied that
offenders' needs lead them to search out suitable criminal opportuni-
ties in their environments. But, as the term implies, choice-sffilcturing
properties may often play a more active role in generating offending.
Some of the opportunities may offer a constellation of properties suffi-
ciently attractive to provide a temptation to crime, as is often argued to
be the case with petty offenses such as shoplifting. These points under-
line the three-fold distinction made by Maguire (1980) and by Bennett
and Wright (1984) among offenders who seize, search for, or create op-
portunities. It is also clear that, as well as specifying features of beha v-
iors (kinds of gambling, methods of suicide, types of crime),
choice-structuring properties implicitly specify salient characteristics of
the actor, such as his or her needs, preferences, personal characteristics,
and perceptions. In other words, the term "chOice-structuring property"
is a relational concept designed to provide an analytic tool for increasing
an understanding of the interaction between person variables and arrays
of behaviors-in the case of crime, to specify more closely offenders as
well as the offenses they commit. Thus, where crime displacement oc-
curs, a knowledge of the choice-structuring properties which the of-
fenses share may permit more accurate identification of the subgroups of
offenders involved; and this may well prove a more fruitful way of in-
vestigating the interface between offense and offender-and, in partic-
ular, issues relating to specialization and generalization (Cornish and
.
Clarke, in press)-than the more static and rigid offender typologies of
642 New Directions in Deviance Theory
Greater knowledge about all these matters would undoubtedly im-
prove policy makers' ability to predict the likelihood and direction of
displacement. But, as well as requiring more infonnation about the way
offenders perceive and utilize the choice-structuring properties of
crimes, more needs to be known about the criminal opportunity struc-
ture within which the offender operates if a complete picture of the de-
terminants of displacement is to be given (Cook, 1986b). First, at a macro
levet more ecological research is required in order to explore the
changes in opportunities and, hence, in crime rates, brought about by
changes in routine activities, life-styles, and commercial practices. As
has been indicated above, the detoxification of domestic gas in Britain
brought about a substantial decline in the national suicide rate during
the 1960s. In the same way, participation in gambling rises whenever
new facilities are created (Cornish, 1978). In relation to crime, WilkIDs
(1964) showed how rises in the rates of auto theft in Britain parallel the
increased rates of new car registrations, and Cohen and Felson (1979)
showed how increases in burglary in the United States reflected the rise
in "stealable" property and in numbers of women working outside the
home. More recently, Tremblay's (1986) research on credit card bank
frauds has indicated how the introduction of new commercial marketing
strategies may also sometimes have unforeseen consequences. Thus, a
move by certain Canadian banks to extend facilities for check cashing to
nonregular customers able to guarantee the transaction by means of a
credit card, offered existing credit card thieves a novel and lucrative
way of preying directly upon the banking system itself instead of upon
retailers alone.
The processes through which these changes in opportunities at the
macro level take place also require elucidation. The escalation in deaths
from car exhaust fumes in Britain from the beginning of the 1970s, for
example, suggests that learning may have an important role to play in
determining changes in suicide rates over time, as people gradually
come to identify a novel and attractive method of suicide (Clarke and
Lester, 1987). At the micro level, Tremblay's work provides some hints
about the circumstances under which, for one particular form of crime,
such diffusion of innovation might come about. Previous experience in
committing similar forms of crime may sensitize offenders to new vari-
ations on their favorite themes; membership of criminal knowledge net-
works may speed up the diffusion of information among specialists,
while the media may spread such information more widely among the
noncriminal population. The more dramatic the event-such as hijack-
ing, bank robbery, rape l murder, or suicide-the more vivid, detailed,
and widespread the coverage, and the ~or~ o~ten: at.~1e time of.th,e
40. Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke 643
Under these circumstances, the likelihood of "copycat" offenses may be
further enhanced.
RATIONAL CHOICE TIIEORY AND
CRIME·CONTROL POLICY
The rational choice perspective was originally developed to provide
policy makers with a useful framework to guide thinking about crime
prevention and controL In line with this objective, the present paper has
attempted to develop certain aspects of the theory in the interests of an-
swering critics of situational crime prevention who have implicitly as-
sumed that the outcome of such efforts is simply (and, seemingly,
inevitably) to displace offending. A similar analysis, making use of the
concept of choice-structuring properties, has also been attempted else-
where to clarify aspects of the long-standing debate over whether of-
fenders are generalists or specialists (Cornish and Clarke, in press).
Rational choice approaches have also proved useful in suggesting rea-
sons for the limited effectiveness of rehabilitative efforts (Cornish, 1987)
in emphasizing the need of deterrent policies to pay greater attention to
offenders' perceptions of opportunities, risks, costs, and benefits (Ben-
nett and Wright, 1984), and in identifying potentially adverse side-effects
of policies such as selective incapacitation (Cook, 1986a).
More generally, a rational choice perspective on offending can sug-
gest, if not explanations, lines of enquiry to account for stability and
change in criminal behavior. The importance of this for directing crime
prevention policy and practice should not be underestimated. Taking
Tremblay's study as an example once again, it is instructive to note that,
even under the most apparently favorable of circumstances, displace-
ment was by no means inevitable: only 10% of Tremblay's " checkmen"
actually switched their attentions to credit card bank frauds. Before dis-
missing this discrepancy as a crude exemplification of Zipf's (1949) Prin-
ciple of Least Effort, it should be recognized that this low take-up may
well have resulted from the logistics of the situation-the limited period
for which this particular "window of vulnerability" was left open by
the banks and the fact that, even as knowledge grew about this novel
form of crime, so were the risks and effort involved in its corn.mission
rapidly escalating. Critics of situational crime prevention might well
take pause for thought from this example. For, whatever the value of
longer-term social prevention strategies that attack the root" causes of
crime, the constant innovation in criminal methods in response to the
changing criminal opportunity structure demands similar vigilance and
___ L.! ____ ..l ! _____ "--- __ >. _l L.! _ _ _ _ ..l _cc __ >. __ >.1 ______ ~ _C LL _ _ _ _ _ ...-"'n-<>rl in
644 New Directions in Deviance Theory
crime control. It is hoped that the rational choice perspective can offer
some assistance in this enterprise.
REFERENCES
Be11l1ett, Trevo!
1986 A decision-making approach to apioid addiction. In Derek B. Cornish
and Ronald V. Clarke (eds.), The Reasoning Criminal New York:
Springer-Verlag.
Sennett, Trevor and Richard Wright
1984 Burglars on Burglary. Aldershot, Hants, England: Cower.
Campbell, Anne and John J. Gibbs
1986 Violent Transactions. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Chaiken, Jan M., Michael W. Lawless, and Keith Stevenson
1974 Impact of Police Activity on Crime: Robberies on the New York City
Subway System. Report No. R-1424-N.Y.C. Santa Monica, CA: Rand
Corporation.
Clarke, Ronald V.
1983 Sihtational crime preventions: Its theoretical basis and practical
scope. In Ivlichael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice,
Vo!. 4. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Clarke, Ronald V. and Derek B. Cornish
1985 Modeling offenders' decisions: A framework for research and policy.
In lVlichael Tonry and Norval Morris (eds.), Crime and Justice, Vol. 6.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Clarke, Ronald V. and Oavid Lester
1987 Toxicity of car exhausts and opportunity for suicide: Comparison be~
tween Britain and the United States. Journal of Epidemiology and
Community Health 41: 114-120.
Clarke, Ronald V. and Pat Mayhew
In The British gas suicide story and its criminolOgical implications. In
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Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Cohen, Lawrence E. and Marcus Felson
1979 Social change and crime rate trends: A routine activity approach.
American Sociological Review 44: 588~608.
Cook, Philip j.
1986a Criminal incapacitation effects considered in an adaptive choice
framework. In Derek B. Cornish and Ronald V. Clarke (eds.), The
Reasoning Crim~al. New York: Springer~Verlag.
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1986b The demand and supply of criminal opporhmities. In Nlichael Tonry
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Cornish, Oerek 8.
1978 Gambling: A review of tile Literature. Home Office Research Study,
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Cornish, Derek B. and Ronald V. Clarke
1986a The Reasoning Criminal. New York: 5pringer~ Verlag.
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Feeney, Floyd
1986 Robbers as decision~makers. In Oerek B. Cornish and Ronald V.
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Cabor, Thomas
1981 The crime displacement hypothesis: An empirical examination.
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Hess, H.P. and J.v. Oilier
1969 Motivation for gambling as revealed in the marketing methods of the
legitimate gambling industry. Psychological Reports 25: 19-27.
Kaplan, L. and J. Maher
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Kreitman, Norman
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Kreitman, Norman and S. Platt
1984 Suicide, unemployment, and domestic gas detoxification in Britain.
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Marks,Alan
1977 Sex differences and their effect upon cultural evaluations of methods
nf ",,,,1f~rl"'Cltrl1rMnn nrnpll'::l R· h~_7n

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Mayhew, Patrida M., Ronald V. Clarke, Andrew ShIrman, and J.M. Hough
1976 Crime as Opportunity. Home Office Research Study, No. 34. London:
HMSO.
Reppetto, Thomas
1976 Crime prevention and the displacement phenomenon. Crime and
Delinquency 22: 166-177.
Tremblay, Pierre
1986 Designing crime. British Journal of Criminology 26: 234-253.
Weinstein, D. and L. Deitch
1974 The impact of legalized gambling: the soda-economic consequences
of lotteries and off-track betting. New York: Praeger.
Wilkens, Leslie T.
1964 Social Deviance. London: Tavistock.
Wilkinson, Paul
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41 A Theory of Criminal Behavior
]AMES Q. WILSON and RICHARD]. HERRNSTEIN
Theories of crime abound. The lay reader will wonder whether any the-
ory can be an improvement on common sense, and the scholarly one
will groan at the prospect of yet another theory. But what may be irrel-
evant to the former and redundant to the latter is, to us, important, for
theories, whatever else they may do, direct our attention to some fea-
tures of the situation and away from others. Much of the confusion
about the sources of individual differences in criminality arise, we be-
lieve, from bad theories-that is, from views about how the world works
that are incomplete and thus lead us to attend to some things but not to
others.
For example, the theory that unemployment or economic want caus-
es crime can lead us to look for increases in criminality during econOIIl-
ic recessions but to overlook the possibility that crime may also be
caused by prosperity (if it loosens the social bonds), by the distribution
of income (if it causes social envy), or by some underlying factor that
happens to cause both criminality and unemployment. More generally,
Reprinted with the permis~{Ol~ of Simon & Schuster from Crime and Human Nature by
lames Q. Wilson and Richard J. Hermstein. Copyright © 1985 by James Q. Wilson and
I V . ' . • .' T TT ••
I 41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein
I 647
theories that call attention to the social setting in which crime occurs
(such as the attitudes of parents and peers, the perceived costs and ben-
efits of crime, the influence of drugs and television) direct our attention
away from preexisting individual traits that make people more or less
susceptible to such social factors; by the same token, theories that em-
phasize the preferences of individuals tend to deemphasize the situa-
lional factors that determine how, or even whether, those preferences
affect behavior. The quarrels among lay persons and scholars about
what causes crime are basically quarrels about the relative importance of
those factors that occupy a central place in competing theories. 111ese ar-
guments are made more intense by the fact that sometimes people do
not choose theories at random; very often, they choose them in part be-
cause the central factors in the theories-individual morality, social set-
ting, economic circumstances, or the prospects of punishment-are ones,
which for political or ideological reasons, the defenders of the theories
want to believe are central.
We suggest that most of the common theories purporting to explain
criminal behavior are but special cases of some more general theory.
Specifying that larger theory is useful because, to the extent it is correct
and comprehensive, it will keep before our eyes the full range of fac-
tors that cause individual differences in criminality. This, in turn, will re-
strain our tendency to give partial explanations of crime or to make
partial interpretations of the empirical findings of criminologists. Ideal-
ly, of course, a theory should do much more than this. In principle, a
theory is a testable statement of the relationships among two or more
variables, so that, knowing the theory, we can say with some confidence
that if we observe X, we will also observe Y. For instance: If we observe
a left-handed, red haired male, then we are 70 percent certain that we are
observing a burglar. Unfortunately, theories about crime, even ours,
often do not permit us to make such statements, but for the reasons al-
ready given, they are important nonetheless. If, given this state of af-
fairs, "theory" sounds too grand a term for the systematic speculations
we and others have produced, consider what we offer as an organized
perspective on the causes of crime.
Our theory-or perspective-is a statement about the forces that
control individual behavior. To most people, that is not a very interest-
ing assertion, but to many scholars, it is a most controversial one. Some
students of crime are suspicious of the view that explanations of crirni-
nality should be based on an analysis of individual psychology. Such a
view, they argue, is "psychological reductionism" that neglects the set-
ting in which crime occurs and the broad social forces that determine
levels of crime. These suspicions, while understandable, are ill-founded.
lAn.._.l-~ •• ~_ C~~"'~_n ~~~.....:l-. •• .I-" ........ _....:_~ ... {...~ _ ... _.1- _ _ C .1-1.. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ • .l.L. ___ _
 648 New Directions in Deviance Theory
petence of the police, the nurturance of the family, the availability of
drugs, the quality of the schools-they must all affect the behavior of in-
dividuals if they are to affect crime. If people differ in their tendency to
commit crime, we must express those differences in terms of how some
array of factors affects their individual decisions. If crime rates differ
among nations, if must be because individuals in those nations differ
or are exposed to different arrays of factors. If crime rates rise or fall, it
must be that changes have occurred in the variables governing individ-
ual behavior.
Our theory is eclectic, drawing from different, sometimes oppos-
ing, schools of thought. We incorporate both genetic predispositions
and sociallearnmg and consider the influence of both delayed and im-
mediate factors. An individual act is sometimes best understood as a
reaction to immediate circumstances and at other times as an expres-
sion of enduring behavioral dispositions; bOUl sorts of explanations have
a place in our theory. Though eclectic, the theory is built upon modern
behavioral psychology!
CRIME AS CHOICE: THE THEORY IN BRIEF
Our theory rests on the assumption that people, when faced with a
choice, choose the preferred course of action. This assumption is quite
weak; it says nothing more than that whatever people choose to do,
they choose it because they prefer it. In fact, it is more than weak; with-
out further clarification, it is a tautology. When we say people" choose,"
we do not necessarily mean that they consciously deliberate about what
to do. All we mean is that their behavior is determined by its conse-
quences, A person OOU do that thing the consequences of which are per-
ceived by him or her to be preferable to the consequences of doing
something else. What can save such a statement from being a tautology
is how plausibly we describe the gains and losses associated with alter-
native courses of action and the standards by which a person evaluates
those gains and losses.
These assumptions are commonplace in philosophy and social sci-
ence. Philosophers speak of hedonism or utilitarianism, economists of
value or utility, and psychologists of reinforcement or reward. We will
use the language of psychology, but it should not be hard to translate
our terminology into that of other disciplines. Though social scientists
"The specialist will recognize the debt we owe to, nnd the liberties we bave taken with,
the work of Edward L. Thorn'dike, Albert Bandura, B. F. Skinner, R. B. Cnttell, H. J.
'"',,""' .... ,..t,. T P P..,,,l,,,,, ... ~.-I r:; r T .... l.....,,,,~ ..,....., ....... " ..... 1,'"'~<'"
41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein 649
differ as to how much behavior can reasonably be described as the result
of a choice, all agree that at least some behavior is guided, or even pre-
cisely controlled, by things variously termed pleasure, pain, happiness,
sorrow, desirability, or the like. Our object is to show how this simple
and widely used idea can be used to explain behavior.
At any given moment, a person can choose between committing a
crime, and not committing it (all these alternatives to crime we lump
together as "noncrime"). The consequences of committing the crime
consist of rewards (what psychologists call "reinforcers") and punish-
ments; the consequences of not committing the crime (i.e., engaging in
noncrime) also entail gains and losses. The larger the ratio of the net re-
wards of crime to the net rewards of noncrime, the greater the tendency
to commit the crime. The net rewards of crime include, obviously, the
likely material gains from the crime, but they also include intangible
benefits, such as obtaining emotional or sexual gratification, receiving
the approval of peers, satisfying an old score against an enemy, or en-
hancing one's sense of justice. One must deduct from these rewards of
crime any losses that accrue immediately-that are, so to speak, con-
temporaneous with the crime. They include the pangs of conscience,
the disapproval of onlookers, and the retaliation of the victim.
The value of noncrirne lies all in the future. It includes the benefits to
the individual of avoiding the risk of being caught and punished and, in
addition, the benefits of avoiding penalties not controlled by the crimi-
nal justice system, such as the loss of reputation or the sense of shame af-
flicting a person later discovered to have broken the law and the
possibility that, being known as a criminat one cannot get or keep a job.
The value of any reward or punishment associated with either crime
or noncrime is, to some degree, uncertain. A would-be burglar can rarely
know exactly how much loot he will take away or what its cash value
will prove to be. TIle assaulter or rapist may exaggerate the satisfaction
he thinks will follow the assault or the rape. Many people do not know
how sharp the bite of conscience will be until they have done some-
thing that makes them feel the bite. The anticipated approval of one's
buddies mayor may not be forthcoming. Similarly, the benefits of non-
crime are uncertain. One cannot know with confidence whether one
will be caught, convicted, and punished, or whether one's friends will
learn about the crime and as a result withhold valued esteem, or
whether one will be able to find or hold a job.
Compounding these uncertainties is time. The opportunity to com-
mit a crime may be ready at hand (an open, unattended cash register in
a store) or well in the future (a bank that, with planning and preparation,
can be robbed). And the rewards associated "With noncrime are almost
650 New Directions in Deviance Theory
weeks or months distant. The strength of reinforcers tends to decay over
time at rates that differ among individuals. As a result, the extent to
which people take into account distant possibilities-a crime that can be
committed only tomorrow, or punishment that will be inflicted only in
a year-will affect whether they choose crime or noncrime ....
THE THEORY AS A WHOLE
... [T]he chief value of a comprehensive theory of crime is that it will
bring to our attention all the factors that explain individual differences
in criminality and thus prevent us from offering partial explanations or
making incomplete interpretations of research findings.* The larger the
ratio of the rewards (material and nonrnaterial) of noncrime to the re-
wards (material and nonmaterial) of crime, the weaker the tendency to
commit crimes. The bite of conscience, the approval of peers, and any
sense of inequity will increase or decrease the total value of crime; the
opinions of family, friends, and employers are important benefits of
noncrime, as is the desire to avoid the penalties that can be imposed by
the criminal justice system. The strength of any reward declines with
time, but people differ in the rate at which they discount the future. The
strength of a given reward is also affected by the total supply of rein-
forcers.
Some implications of the theory are obvious: Other things being
equal, a reduction in the delay and uncertainty attached to the rewards
of noncrime will reduce the probability of crime. But other implications
are not so obvious. For instance, increasing the value of the rewards of
noncrime (by increasing the severity of punishment) may not reduce a
given individual's tendency to commit crime if he believes that these
rewards are not commensurate with what he deserves. In this case, pun-
ishing him for preferring crime to noncrime may trigger hostility to-
ward society in retaliation for the shortfall. The increased rewards for
noncrirne may be offset by an increased sense of inequity and hence an
increased incentive for committing a crime. Or again: It may be easier to
reduce crime by making penalties swifter or more certain, rather than
'There is an advantage to stating the theory mathematically. We thereby make it easier
in principle to deal simultaneously with the interaction of several variables, and thus
we resist the tendency in thinking about crime to keep only two or three things in mind
at one time and to treat those' few things as either-or propositions. But the essence of the
,1...~~_. ___ 1...~ ___ ~_.-1 •• ,:.1...n •••• 1... ___ .1... ___ >.: __ 1 _nh'-1nn
41. Jarnes Q. Wilson and RichardJ. Herrnstein 651
more severe, if the persons committing crime are highly present-orient-
ed (so that they discount even large rewards very sharply) or if they are
likely to have their sense of inequity heightened by increases in the
severity of punishment. Or yet again: An individual with an extrovert-
ed personality is more likely than one with an introverted one to exter-
nalize his feelings of inequity and act directly to correct them.
In laboratory settings involving both human and animal subjects,
each element of the theory has received at least some confirmation and
the major elements have been confirmed extensively.l Extrapolating
these findings outside the laboratory, into real-world settings, is a mat-
ter on which opinions differ. In this book, we propose to bring together
evidence from a variety of disciplines bearing on the connection be-
tvveen elements of the theory and the observed characteristics of crime
and criminals.
The connection between crime and impulsiveness has been demon-
strated as the link betvveen (low) intelligence and crime. Those features
of family life that produce stronger or weaker internalized inhibitions
will be seen to have a connection to the presence or absence of aggres-
siveness and criminality. Certain subcultures, such a street-corner gangs,
appear to affect the value members attach to both crime and noncrime.
The mass media, and in particular television, may affect both aggres-
siveness directly and a viewer's sense of inequity that can affect crime
indirectly. Schooling may affect crime rates by bringing certain persons
together into groups that reinforce either crime or noncrime and by de-
termining the extent to which children believe that their skills will give
them access to legitimate rewards. The condition of the economy will
have a complex effect on crime depending on whether the (possibly)
restraint-weakening impact of affluence dominates the restraint-
strengthening influence of employment opportunities.
Though we will be using, for the most part, examples of rather com-
mon criminality to illustrate our argument, the theory is quite consistent
with the more bizarre and unusual forms of crime. Psychopathic per-
sonalities lack to an unusual degree internalized inhibitions on crime.
Persons possessed by some obsessive interest-for example, pyro-
mania-attach an inordinately high value to the rewards of certain
crimes. 1£ everyone loved fire too much, society would try hard to teach
the moral evil of fire, as well as its practical danger. As it is, what society
does teach is sufficient to overcome whatever slight tendency toward
pyromania every average person may have, but it is insufficient to in-
hibit the rare pyromaniac. One reason society punishes arsonists is not
only to make it more costly for persons to use fire for material gain but
also to provide extra moral education to the occasional person who loves
652 New Directions in Deviance Theory
In addition to pathological drives, there are ordinary ones that can,
under certain conditions, become so strong as to lead to crime. History
and literature abound with normal men and women in the grip of a too
powerful reinforcement. Many people have broken the law for love,
honor, family, and country, as well as for money, sex, vengeance, or delu-
siOTI. Such criminals may be psychologically unremarkable; they trans-
gressed because as they perceived the situation the reward for crime
exceeded that for noncrime, and an opportunity presented itself. The
legal system often tries to minimize the punishment inflicted on such
people.
OTHER THEORIES OF CRIME
Our approach to explaining individual differences in criminaHty is not
meant to supplant but to encompass other theories. Following Travis
Hirschi, we note that there are three main sociological perspectives on
the causes of crime:
According to straiu or motivational theo:-ies, legi.timate desire~ that
conformity cannot satisfy force of person mto de:lan~e. Accordmg to
control or bond theories, a person is free to commlt delinquent acts be-
cause his ties to the convenlional order have somehow been broken.
According to wltllmI deviance theories, the deviant conform~ to ~1 set of
standards not accepted by the larger or more powerfulsoclely.-
Strain theory assumes that people ordinarily obey society's rules
but violate them when following those rules does not enable them to
satisfy their legitimate aspirations. There is a strain between the goal
they seek and the means at their disposal to reach that goal. Their op-
portunities are blocked; thus, strain theory is sometimes called the the-
ory of differential opportunity':.'! In some versions of strain theory,
persons who are frustrated in their efforts to achieve middle-class goals
abandon them and embrace antisocial values:1 In other versions, they
persist in seeking wealth, property, and status, but use criminal means
to do so.
Advocates of strain theory are calling attention to the importance of
certain reinforcers associated with noncrime, in particular the value of
jobs and other sources of wealth and status, and suggesting that as these
decline in strength (because they are not available or are of little value)
the rein forcers associated with crime come to dominate the choices con-
fronting the individuaL This is a useful but partial observation. It prop-
erly reminds us of. the importance to the individual of whatever
alternatives to crime are available to him, but it neglects other compo-
41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Herrnstein 653
nents of the rewards of crime and noncrime and pays little attention to
individual differences in impulsiveness and internalized inhibitions.
TI:e reinforc~rs .ass~cia:ed with noncrime include aVOiding the
penalties of the cnrnmal Justice system as well as obtaining the benefits
of jobs; thus, the reinforcement supplied by noncrime can decline be-
cause either jobs becomes less available or sanctions decline in certainty
or severity, or both. The theory also neglects the fact that the value of
committing a crime is the sum not only of the money-supplying or sta-
t~s-co.nferring components of the crime but also of the costs (if any) of
vlOlatmg some internal inhibition and the benefits (if any) of rectifying
a sense of inequity, Finally, strain theory ignores individual differences
in time discounting (or impulSiveness).
Because of these limitations, strain theory cannot account for all
the o?served facts about crime. It can offer no explanation, for example,
of mIddle-class crime. If crime is disproportionately committed by
lower-class persons because they find their lack of schOOling and job op-
portun~les a barner to realizing their legitimate aspirations, then per-
sons WIth adequate schooling and reasonable job prospects should not
commit crimes, yet they do. If the people most likely to commit crimes
are those in great need of legitimate rewards who find their access to
those ~eward~ .blocked, then .crime should be most COmmon among
men WIth farmltes and heavy finandal responsibilities, but in fact crime
rates are highest among unattached males in the adolescent and younD'
adult years. 0
Control theory directs our attention to the importance of learned
inhibitions against crime. Unlike strain theory, which assumes that peo-
ple ~aturally want to do the right thing but are prevented from doing it
by CIrcumstances, control theory suggests that it is first necessary to ex-
plain why anyone should want to do the right thing. This is an impor-
tant s~ggestion because It remmds us of the intangible components of
th~ reinforcements. associated with both crime (the bite, if any, of con-
SCIence) and noncnme (the value, if any, of the good opinion of decent
folk). Control theory asks how the social bond is formed and rnain-
5
tained. But important as this bonding may be, control theory does not
explain. all of the differences among individuals in criminality. In par-
ticular, It neglects differences in personality and orientation toward time:
Some persons may commit crimes not because their attachment to le-
gitimate norms is weak but because they are impulsive, unable to fore-
see the distant consequences of their actions, or confident that those
consequences will not be costiy. Moreover, control theory provides an in-
complete account of the relationship between low intelligence and
predatory criminality. The theory explains this connection largely by
 654 New Direclions in Deviance Theory 41. James Q. Wilson and Richard J. Hermstein 655

the claim that low-IQ individuals, frustrated by their inability to do well crime, for they do not place the would-be offender in the full context of
in their studies and jobs, fail to develop an attachment to school and the reinforcements acting on his behavior. An impulsive person can be
work. 6 This may well occur, but it is also possible that cognitive deficits taught greater self-control, a low-IQ individual can engage in satisfy-
affect crirninality more directly because they are associated with hav- ing learning experiences, and extroverted mesomorphs with slow auto-
ing a short time horizon. 7 nomic nervous system response rates may earn honest money in the
Cultural deviance theory also focuses on learning, but asserts that National Football League instead of dishonest money robbing banks.
criminals have learned their values from deviant rather than law-abid- We believe that all of these views are implicit in our larger behav-
ing persons. Like control theory, this view directs our attention to the in- ioral theory. The risk we run by attempting to state so general a theory
tangible reinforcers associated with crime and noncrime, suggesting is that a theory general enough to explain everything about crime will
that criminals are those who have learned that crime is worthwhile be- not provide may testable hypotheses explaining anyone tlling very pre-
cause it is reinforced by the good opinion of persons in whose company cisely. At the least, however, our perspective allows us to put into some
one commits the crime or who later learn of it. In some versions of this order the full array of particular findings about crime and human nature
theory, deviant behavior is learned from other offenders by a process that one encounters in the literature ....
called "differential association'? in other versions, it is learned from a
distinctive subculture composed of lower-class males who may not di-
rectly teach criminality but who value toughness, excitement, autonomy, NOTES
and "street smarts," and who have a fatalistic attitude toward the fu-
ture. 9 Useful as this perspective is, it cannot explain why some persons 1. For example, C. M. Bradshaw, E. Szabadi, and C. F. Lowe (eds.), QlUl1ltifi-
take their cues from street gangs while others take them from their fam- catioll of Steady-State Operallt Behavior (Amsterdam: Elsevier/North Hol-
ilies and other non deviant individuals, nor is it consistent with the fact land Biomedical Press, 1981); M. L Commons, R. J. Hermstein, and H.
that high-rate delinquents seem to be boys who are not well integrated Rachlin (eds.), Quantitative Analyses of Beltavior: Matcflillg and Maximizing
Accoullts (Cambridge, l\1A: Ballinger, 1982).
into gangs and who have few close or lasting friendships.lo In short,
2. T. Hirschi, Causes ofDelinqlletlcy (Berkeley, CA: UniverSity of California
cultural deviance theory provides no explanation for individual differ-
Press, 1969), p. 3.
ences and thus cannot account for the fact that in a given neighborhood 3. R. A. Cloward and L. E. Ohlin, DelillqJlellC1j and Opportrlllihj (New York:
or social class some boys adopt deviant values and others adopt con- Free Press, 1960).
ventional ones. And the theory has no place for those tangible rein- 4. A. K. Cohen, Delillqllellt Boys (New York: Free Press, 1955).
forcements associated with crime and noncrime that may lead persons 5. D. Matza, Dc1illquellcy alld Drift (New York: Jolm Wiley, 1964), Hirschi,
with conventional values to commit crimes (because they are so prof- Causes of Delinquency.
itable) or dissuade persons with deviant values from committing them 6. Hirschi, Causes of DelillqllellC1j, p. 120.
(because they are so unprofitable). 7. W. Mischel, "Preference for Delayed Reinforcement and Social Responsi-
The three kinds of theories discussed so far draw heavily or entire- bility/' JOJlrnal of Abllormal alld Social PsyclIolof51j, 62 (1961), 1-7.
lyon sociological thought; it is because of this that they have in common 8. E. H. Sutherland and D. R. Cressey, Prillciples of CriminologIj, 7th ed.
a disinterest in individual differences that arise out of psychological or (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1966).
9. W. B. Miller, "Lower Class Culture as a Generating Milieu of Gang Delin~
biological predispositions. Other disciplines have sought to remedy this
quency," JOllmal of Social Issues, 14 (1958),5-19.
defect, but usually at the expense of any attention to the social setting in 10. Hirschi, Callses ofDelillqueHcy, Chapter 8.
which crime occurs or to the complexity of internalized inhibitions.
Criminals are more likely than noncriminals to have mesomorphic body
types, to have fathers who were criminals even in the case of adopted
REFERENCES
sons who could not have known their fathers, to be of somewhat lower
intelligence, to be impulsive or extroverted, and to have autonomic ner- Bradshaw, C. M., Szsabadi, E. and Lowe, C. F. (eds). 1981. Qualltification of Steady
vous systems that respond more slowly and less vigorously to stimuli. State Opemllt Behavior. Amsterdam: EIsevier/North Holland Biomedical Press.
These findings provide 'important clues to anyone seeking to explain Cioward , R. A., and Ohlin, L. E. 1960. Delinqueltcy a1ld OpportIlllity. New York:
inriiuirl11:.1 rliff""·,,,n,..."'c 'h11f. .. ",1.-0" ",1,...... ", ..ha" rln. ......... f. ,..,........ "...;h,f.,.. ... f.'I-. .... ,.. ..."'.-.r:
 656 New Directions in Deviance Theory
Cohen, A. K. 1955. Oelillque/lt Boys. New York: Free Press.
Commons, M. L., Herrnstein, R. J" and Rachlin, H. (eds.) 1982. Quantitative
Arwlyses ofBe!mvior: Matelling alld Maximizi"g ACCOll1ltS. Cambridge, Mass.:
Ballinger.
Hirschi, T. 1969. Causes of Delinquency. Berkeley, Calif: University of California
PresS.
Matza, D. 1964. DelinqllcllC1J alld Drift. New York: John Wiley.
Miller, W. B. 1958. Lower class culture as a generating milieu of gang delin-
quency. JOImwl of$ocial Issucs 14:5-9.
Mischel, W. 1961. Preference for delayed reinforcement and social responsibili-
ty. Journal of Abnormal alld Social PSydlOlogJJ 62: 1-7.
Sutherland, E. H., and Cressey, D. R. 1966. Principles of CrimillologJj, 7th ed.
Philadelphia: Lippincott.
42 The Class Structure of Gender and Delinquency:
Toward a Power-Control Theory of Common
Delinquent Behavior*
JOHN I-lAGAN, A. R. GILLIS, and JOHN SIMPSON
Class and gender are among the most frequently analyzed correlates of
delinquency today. Gender is a strong ad consistent correlate (e.g., see
Simon 1975; Harris 1977), whereas class is weak and uncertain (Hinde-
lang, Hirschi, and Weis 1981). The situation is an embarrassment to so-
ciological theories of delinquency. Although most such theories attach
great importance to class, there is doubt about the correlation on which
they rest. Furthermore, although it is generally assumed that the effect of
gender is socially based, there is no clear evidence that the gender-delin-
quency relationship can be removed when social variables are taken
into account. Class apparently accounts for too little delinquency
(Hirschi 1972); gender stubbornly accounts for too much (Steffensmier
1980). Curiously, the issues of class and gender have not been joined in
delinquency research. We believe that this is a crucial omission, for a
combined consideration of class structure and gender is the key to a so-
ciological understanding of the effect of gender on delinquency.
*This study was made possible by funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Re-
search Council of Canada and the Ministry of the Solicitor General of Canada. We as-
sume full responsibility for the results and interpretations presented here. Requests for
reprints should be sent to John Hagan, Faculty of Law, University of Toronto, Toronto,
Ontario, Canada M5S lAl.
Reprinted from John Hagan, A.R. Gillis, and John Simpson, "The Class Structure of
Gender and Delinquency: Toward a Power-Control Theory of Common Delinquent Be-
havior," AmeriClI1I Journal of Sociology 90, no. 6 (1985), pp. 1151-78. ©1985 by The Univer-
_, ..... _.rt..' ____ All-'_I_~ ______ •• _...1
42. John Hagan, A R. Cillis, and John Simpson 657
The failure to link class and gender in delinquency research betrays
a neglect of classical criminological theory. The father figure of Marxian
criminology, WIlliam Banger, offered one of the first statistical demon-
strations of the strong correlation between gender and criminality. He
then pointed specifically to the importance of class structure for a theo-
retical understanding of the social basis of this relationship. "A very con-
clusive proof of the thesis that the social position of woman is what
explains her lower criminality, is as follows. The difference in the man-
ner of life of the two sexes decreases as we descend the social scale. If the
social pOSition of woman is then an important determinant of her lower
criminality, the figures ought to show that the criminality of men differs
more from that of women in the well-ta-do classes than in classes less
privileged" (1916, p. 477).
Of course, Banger had neither the data nor the analytic techniques to
test adequately his prediction of the interactive effect of class and gender
on delinquency. Today we do; but such testing requires that we first
think carefully about several issues of theory and measurement.
THE STUDY OF CLASS AND DELINQUENCY
Two fascinating empirical regularities involve the level of agreement that
survey respondents demonstrate in ranking the prestige of occupations
and the seriousness of crimes (Rossi et a!. 1974, p. 224). These regularities
may explain why sociologists who have sought to link class with delin-
quent behavior have substituted the measurement of socioeconomic sta-
tus for the operationalization of class and have worried so much about
the seriousness of the illegal acts they have studied. By carefully mea-
suring socioeconomic status and/ or focusing on serious offenses, they
may have hoped to salvage the theoretically expected class-delinquency
relationship. The magnitude of the results is a questionable match for
the efforts expended: when found, the relationship is modest (Elliot and
Ageton 1980; Thornberry and Farnsworth 1982), uncertain (Braithwaite
1981), and possibly in decline (TIttIe, Villemez, and Smith 1978).
The paucity of prior results alone might encourage a rethinking of
the class-delinquency issue, but there are also theoretical and method-
ological reasons to pursue alternative formulations. To begin, the substi-
tution of socioeconomic status for class is inappropriate. Such measures
are a Weberian offshoot of the Marxian conceptualization of class (Bendix
1974). An attractive feature of these measures is that they provide pre-
cise, continuous scores that can be used to rank individuals in terms of sta-
tus. Delinquency theories, however, rarely focus on such fine gradations
..- T' 1 '.1 1...' 1 ~.,
 658 New Directions in Deviance TIleory
class structure, noting that lithe class model implicit in most theories of
delinquency is a peculiarly top-heavy, two-class model made up of the
overvvhelming majority of respectable people on the one hand and the
lumpenproletariat on the other" (1969, p. 71). Conflict and Marxian theo-
ries extend attention to the top of the class structure. Still, there is no the-
oretically informed basis for dividing gradational status measures into
discrete class groupings. Alternatively, neo-:t\1arxian scholars have devel-
oped survey measures that operationalize the classes in relational, that
is, structural, rather than gradational terms (e.g., Wright 1980, p. 198).
Within this framework, classes are conceived as not merely "above" or
"below" one another. Instead, they are defined in terms of their social re-
lation to one another, with each class located in a discrete structural po-
sition within the social organization of the relalions of production.
This kind of relational class measure seems especially well suited to
the jlmcture we have reached in the empirical study of class and delin-
quency. Gradational status measures have led researchers to look for an
unconditional linear relationship betvveen class and delinquency. But
the effect of class on delinquency may be conditioned, indeed sup-
pressed, by other variables (Hirschi 1969, p. 73). Or, to put the matter
the other way around, as in the discussion of Banger above, class may
condition the influence of other important variables (e.g., gender) on
delinquency. Gradational measures of status do not lend themselves to
the exploration of these kinds of discrete conditional relationships.
The measurement of delinquency is an equally important issue. Self-
report surveys were an important innovation in the measurement of
delinquency. They made it possible to collect extensive information on
suspected causes of delinquency, along with first-person reports of delin-
quent behavior. Early self-report surveys concentrated on minor but fre-
quent forms of juvenile misconduct that were only weakly, if at all,
related to socioeconomic status. Recent surveys have concentrated on
measures of more serious delinquency. The move to more serious self-
report items has important methodological and theoretical implications.
Methodologically, as Hindelang et a1. (1979) note, very serious forms of
delinquency (such as murder, forcible rape, and armed robbery) are suf-
ficiently rare to make survey designs problematic. Equally important,
however, is the fact that conflict, Marxian, and other theories of crime re-
gard conceptions of seriousness as a matter to be explained rather than
assumed (e.g., Black 1979). The recent emphasis on "serious" forms of
delinquency may therefore mistake an issue of theory for an issue of
method. Certainly, it is a mistake to equate what is serious with what is
important. Consider the following:
Theories of adult criminality are often extensions of theories of
.-:1"'1;.,...,,....., ............ ,, 'T'h: ... ..
;~ ~~_ 1~. L.~~~ •• ~~ ~L .. L.~
42. John Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson 659
tached to childhood and adolescent socialization experiences, but also
because adolescents are more easily studied. We have few etiological
theories of white-collar crime (Wheeler 1976; Hagan, Nage!, and AJ-
bonetti 1980) and no theories of white-collar delinquency. If we restrict
our attention to very serious forms of delinquency, there will be little
on which to build such theories: the theoretical problem of white-collar
delinquency will have been defined away by our measures. Because
there will also be very few serious female delinquents, it may be simi-
larly difficult to study gender and delinquency. We are arguing, then, for
the moderation of a trend, for the study of more common as well as
more serious foons of delinquency. Hindelang et aL defend this position
well when they note that "self-report measures of delinquency must re-
flect the definition of delinquency implicit in the theory at issue .... Re-
stricting research to a single measuring device would inhibit the growth
of new theories and would lock the field into a rigid pattern of social re-
porting or accounting" (1981, pp. 88-89). We now turn to the theory of
delinquency we wish to address.
TOWARD A POWER·CONTROL THEORY OF COMMON
DELINQUENT BEHAVIOR
Two concepts organize the classical theories of delinquency: power and
controL The empirical distinction between these concepts is partly one of
level of analysis. Power tlleories tend to be macrostructural and control
theories microstructural, but they share a structural interest in relations
of dominance. Power theories focus on relations of dominance that de-
rive from control over the means of production; control theories focus on
relations of dominance established within the family. In this article we
join parts of these two theoretical traditions to form a power-control
theory of common delinquent behavior.
Our discussion will focus on what we have noted to be one of the
strongest and most consistent correlations in delinquency research: that
between gender and delinquency. Power-control theory specifies where
this correlation is strongest and most difficult to remove, as well as
where it is weakest and most easily explained. Relations of dominance
emphasized in the power tradition, and defined in terms of class, are
used to specify the conditions under which the gender-delinquency re-
lationship rises and falls. Relations of dominance emphasized in the
control tradition and explored in terms of the family are used to explain
gender-delinquency relationships within specific classes.
Both the power and control traditions lead us to consider the con-
1____ -'-L._~ __ ....: __ 1 : ___ ....t- _ _ _ _ _ .. ..l:"": ___ •• _..l __ •••1-:_1- _..l_1 _____ .. ____ -'-__ -'-_ ..l_ •• :_-,-~ L_~ _ _ ~_:_1 ~~_~,..
660 New Directions in Deviance Theory
Both the presence of power and the absence of control contribute to
these conditions. It is assumed that freedom to deviate is directly relat-
ed to class position, that males are freer to deviate than are females, and
that males are freest to deviate in the higher classes. Note that this set of
assumptions forms a basis for a prediction such as Banger's: the rela-
tionship between gender and delinquency will increase with movement
up the class structure, and it will decrease with movement down.
Our reversal of the theoretically expected, negative class-delin-
quency relationship is unconventional. but not unprecedented. Indeed,
the proposed positive relationship is as durable as the observation that
power corrupts and has found one place in sociological theory through
Sorokin and Lunden's (1959) Power and Morality. They propose that
power has an "intoxifying" effect, such that holders of power come to
see themselves as above (i.e., free of) the moral and legal precepts that
control ordinary persons. The expected result is that "the moral behav-
ior of ruling groups tends to be more criminal and submoral than that of
the ruled strata of the same society" (1959, p. 37). Because "ruling
groups" have not been meaningfully distinguished in self-report re-
search, this proposition remains untested for delinquents as well as
adults. Instead, it thrives on stories of "rich kids" and tales such as those
about the young Kennedys (Collier and Horowitz 1984).
A similar theme was suggested in Veblen's The Theory of the Leisure
Class. In a passage that stimulated Matza and Sykes's (1961) theory of
subterranean values, Veblen wrote that "the ideal pecuniary man is like
the ideal delinquent in his unscrupulous conversion of goods and per-
sons to his own ends, and in a callous disregard of [i.e., freedom from]
the feelings and -wishes of others or the remoter effects of his actions"
(1934, p. 237). Matza and Sykes argue that this similarity reflects a dis-
persion of leisure class values-the search for adventure, excitement,
and thrills, or what we call a "taste for risk"-throughout society, caus-
ing delinquency at all class levels. They call special attention to com-
mon forms of "white collar delinquency" (p. 718) but stop short of
asserting a positive class-delinquency relationship. The dispersion they
emphasize has a democratizing, and therefore diminishing, effect. Still,
a small positive relationship between class position and common forms
of delinquency is fully consistent with Matza and Sykes's theory: the
dispersion they propose is downward through the class structure. A
power-control theory of delinquent behavior proposes a class-delin-
quency relationship of similar size and direction.
If it is indeed relational position in the social structure, rather than
type of individual. that e.xplains delinquent behavior, it should be pos-
sible to specify and explain the gender-delinquency correlation by tak-
42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and Jolm Simpson 661
ing relational position fully into account. In the data analysis that fol-
lows, we consider these tvvo kinds of relations of dominance: the con-
trols exercised or experienced by the head of household in relation to
others in the workplace and the controls exercised by parents in rela-
tion to their children. We have already discussed the role of class rela-
tions in specifying the gender-delinquency relationship. We turn now to
the role of familial controls in transmitting the effects of gender on delin-
quency within class categories.
A fundamental instrument-object relationship structures family-
based relations of dominance (Hagan, Simpson, and Gillis 1979). The
two sides of this relationship are that mothers more than fathers are the
instruments of familial controls and that daughters more than sons are
the objects of familial controls. This relationship is the core of what Rosa-
beth Kanter (1974) calls the "intimate oppression" of informal social
control. This is the kind of relationship that a Marxist-feminist theory
suggests is central to the "reproduction of order." There is evidence
(Cummings 1977) that such an instrument-object cycle even persists
among working women who come to believe in "Horatia AIger as a
feminist role model"-a woman who makes time to be both the prima-
ry socializer of her children and the architect of a career. In other words,
even among more liberated women, the instrument-object relationship
may be perpetuated. How, then, does this relationship mediate the ef-
fects of gender on delinquency?
111e answer to this question ties family relations of dominance to is-
sues of deterrence and legal sanctions. Gibbs provocatively observes,
"The secret scandal of the Marxist theory of criminal law is that it tacitly
attributes validity to the deterrence doctrine" (1978, p.106). Gibbs makes
his point by posing a rhetorical question: "How can legal ptmishment
be used as a repressive instrument by a dominant class if the threat of
punishment does not deter?" A power-control theory of delinquent be-
havior asserts that threat of punishment, or at least the perception of
such a threat, does deter delinquency. This much is not new. What is
new is our argument that the bases of this repressive effect are the rela-
tions of dominance established in the family. That is, adolescents, espe-
cially female adolescents, are taught to avoid risks generally and the risk
of legal sanctions specifically. The testable implications of this part of a
power-control theory of delinquency are that females -will be deterred
more by the threat of legal sanctions than males and that this effect will
be produced more through maternal than paternal controls. The causal
model of gender and delinquency that we have described is surrunarized
in Figure 42.1. The class categories within which this model will be ex-
plored are set out in Table 42.1 (discussed in greater detail below).
 662 New Directions in Deviance Theory 42. Jolm Hngan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson 663

play a joint role in specifying and mediating this gender-delinquency

FIGURE 42.1 CAUSAL MODEL OF GENDER AND DELINQUENCY relationship.

Gender Parental Taste for Perceived Self-

Control Risk Silnction Reported
Risk Delinquency
Getting
A NEO-MARXIAN MEASURE OF CLASS
~
Maternal ~ ~ ~
Paternal Caught
Getting Although the concept of class is central to Marxian and conflict theo-
Punished
ries of crime (Colvin and Pauly 1983; Spitzer 1975; Greenberg 1977;
Chambliss and Seidman 1971; Quirmey 1977; Taylor, Walton, and Young
I I j
t 1973), this concept has never before been operationalized in self-report
research (cf. Hagan and Albonetti 1982). Our approach to the measure-
ment of class is informed by Marxian ideas. Most important, we pro-
ceed from the assumption that classes are to be measured in relational
rather than gradational terms. We use three conceptual criteria to dis-
tinguish four class positions. The three criteria consider control over the
means of production, control over the work of others, and relationship
to labor power. The four class positions include employers, managers,
workers, and unemployed workers, whom, following Marx, we call the
surplus population. The relationships between the conceptual criteria
TABLE 42.1 CRITERIA FOR CLASS CATEGORIES and class categories are presented in Table 42.1. Respondents are locat-
CONTROL CONTROL OVER RELATION
ed in class categories on the basis of four survey questions:
OVER MEANS WORK OF TO LADOn 1. "Is the head of your household currently working full-
CLASS OF PRODUCTION OTHERS POWER DISTRIBUTION
time?"
Employers Owner Controls Buys labor 8.95% 2. "Does the head of your household currently work for
employees (41) him/herself or for someone else?"
Managers Nonowner Controls Sells labor 43.89% 3. "Are there any people who work for him or her or are paid
subordinates (201) by him or her?"
Workers Nonowner No control Sells labor 37.99% 4. "Does the head of your household supervise anybody as
of others (174) part of his or her job?"
Surplus population Nonowner No control Unable to 9.17% Employers are first of all owners of the means of production, This cri-
of others selllabor (42) terion is reflected in the second item above: those who work for them-
selves own some means of production. Second, employers are in control
NOTE-N's in parentheses. of employees. An affirmative response to question 3 above captures this
second dimension. This second criterion is important as a means of elim-
inating from the employer class persons who are self-employed but em-
The class structure of the gender-delinquency relationship should be ploy no others, that is, members of the petty bourgeoisie. (We do not
reemphasized. What a power-control theory of common delinquent be- consider the latter class in our analysis because Marxists typically argue
havior is saying is that in all classes males are freer to be delinquent that "the petty bourgeoisie represents a remnant from an earlier era of
than females but that it is ID the most powerful classes that males are capitalist development and, as a class, ... is progressively becoming less
r•. • _ L • ..1." __ • ___ 'T'l_. _________ , _ _ •• ____ ..l ,1.1.._ ____ _ f- __ ...... ,..I
irrmnrt;\nV' rWrio-ht ;mn Pprrnnp 1g77. n. 4:~1.) Third, emolovers are
~ ~~, L ~ ~t...~ ~

664 New Directions in Deviance Theory
buyers of labot power. This criterion is satisfied by affirmative responses to
questions 1 and 2 on current work status. Defined in this way, employ-
ers constitute 8.95% of our sample. We refer to the occupants of this
class position as "employers" rather than "capitalists" because most in
this category employ fewer than 10 workers (Wright 1978, p. 1370). Ide-
ally, we would distinguish between small employers and actual capi-
talists. As Wright et al. (1982, p. 712) have recently noted, however, to do
so is to restrict empirical analyses to an extraordinarily small part of the
population that is difficult to reach with a survey design. Our strategy
follows Wright in merging small with large employers into a more dif-
fuse "employer" class-category. Our employer class is within about 1%
of the estimate given for such a class in Wright's work (see Wright 1978;
Wright and Perrone 1977; Wright et al. 1982).
Our second class-category consists of managers. Members are iden-
tified first as IlO110Wllers by a negative answer to the question about self-
employment. They are also identified as being in control of subordinates by
an affirmative answer to the fourth question. Finally, managers are sell-
ers of lnbor. Heads of household are classified thus on the basis of a pos-
itive answer to the first question, about current work status, and a
negative answer to the second question, about-self employment. De-
fined in this way, the managerial class constitutes 43.89% of our sample.
This figure corresponds closely to the "minimum" estimate given to a
combined grouping of managers and supervisors in Wright's most re-
cent American survey (Wright et. al. 1982), a grouping that corresponds
to what we are calling the managerial class. This grouping can be re-
duced by adding considerations of sanction or task authority and hier-
archy to the criteria applied. As noted in an earlier section, however,
delinquency theory has focused on the top and bottom of the class struc-
ture, and we have therefore not introduced this detail into the middle
levels of our class analysis.
Our third class-category is made up of workers. Members of this
class are obviously nOll0WllerS of the means of production; this fact is
captured by the self-employment item. Also, they exercise 110 control
over the work of others. Negative answers to questions 3 and 4 place
heads of households in this category. Finally, they are sellers of labor;
this criterion is satisfied by the foregoing information and a positive
answer to the question about current work status. Defined in this way,
the working class constitutes 37.99% of our sample. Wright et al. ob-
serve, "If ... we exclude from the working class those who indicate in
their questionnaires that they in any way supervise other people or
that they have even very modest levels of autonomy, the size of the
working class is reduced to 35 percent" and that "what these figures
--- - - - _. ,- 01 __ , "r:o ___ .. ____ L _ C _ 11 ___ !1.! ______ .. _~~ l-.:~ •• .. ~1~,
~ ~
!
42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson 665
class. _." (1982, P. 718). Alternative criteria increase the size of the work-
ing class and decrease the size of the managerial class. If our criteria are
in error, it is probably in the direction of protecting the integrity of the
working-class category_
The last category in our classification consists of unemployed work-
ers, whom we call the surplus population. Although Marxian crimi-
nologists have emphasized the importance of this class (Colvin and
Pauly 1983; Spitzer 1975; Clelland and Carter 1979), recent Marxian op-
erationalizations of the class structure (e.g., Wright 1978; Wright and
Perrone 1977; Robinson and Kelly 1979; Wright et al. 1982) have not in-
cluded it. This is ironic because Marx attached great importance to this
"surplus population" in developing his "general law of capitalist ac-
cumulation" (1912, p. 7). Because delinquency theories in general, and
Marxian theories of crime in particular, attach great significance to the
bottom of the class structure, we include the surplus population in our
operationalization. The surplus population are l1onowners of the means
of production, as indicated by negative responses to the self-employ-
ment question; they have no control over other workers, as indicated by re-
sponses to questions 3 and 4; and they are unable to sell their lnbor, as
indicated by their responses to the questions on current work status.
Defined in this way, the surplus population constitutes 9.17% of our
sample, a figure that corresponds well to current unemployment sta-
tistics.
Overall, our measure appears to represent the class structure well. It
may slightly underrepresent the working class and slightly overrepre-
sent the managerial class, but even so, the representation of these class w
es is within the range of reasonable estimates established by Wright's
(1982) American survey. At minimum, we have achieved our goal of se-
curing a sample of broad class composition. For purposes of compari-
son, we also include in our analyses Duncan's (1961) American
socioeconomic index of occupations and Blishen's (1961) Canadian oc-
cupational class scale. These belong to the type of gradational status
measures used in conventional self-report surveys_
A THEORETICALLY RELEVANT SCALE OF
DELINQUENCY
The theory we have proposed assumes that the presence of power and
the absence of control exercise their influence, at least in part, through a
cognitive process in which actors evaluate courses of action. We have
therefore included variables representing actors' socially acquired tastes
......... .......
tn ... rid.. ::In.4 thpir nprC'pntions of the risks of getting caught and pun-
1~:
666 New Directions in Deviance Theory
ished, for delinquent behavior, as crucial mediating factors in the causal
model depicted in Figure 42.1. 111ese variables represent cognitive states.
For them to be operative, there must be some calculation that leads to
the delinquent behavior considered. Our premise is that this will be
truer of minor forms of theft and aggression than it will be of more se-
riOllS criminal behavior, particularly the crimes of violence emphasized
in indices of "serious" crime and delinquency. Ours is a theory of com-
mon delinquent behavior.
Past studies of common delinquency have included "many items
that are not sufficiently specified to justify the assumption that the re-
ported behavior would be reasonably definable as delinquent" (Hinde-
lang et al. 1981, p. 45). We have addressed this problem by using an
adapted version of Hirschi's (1969) self-report delinquency scale. Our
only alteration was to restrict the period of coverage to the preceding
year, a decision encouraged by Hirschi's subsequent analysis (see 1969,
p. 62), by rephrasing the items and using the following as response cat-
egories: never, once, two or three times, often, and many times. The six-
item scale asked how often in the last year the respondents had: taken
things (worth less than $2.00, between $2.00 and $50, over $50) that did
not belong to them; taken a car for a ride without the owner's permis-
sion; intentionally banged up something that did not belong to them;
and, excluding fights with a brother or sister, intentionally beaten up
or hurt anyone. Hirschi contrasts this scale with others, noting that
"items included in our delinquency scale have logical validity, since
they measure petty theft and grand larceny, auto theft, vandalism (ma-
licious mischief), and battery-all offenses that are commonly thought to
result in punishment by agents of the larger society, if detected" (1969,
pp. 55-56).
Some argue that common delinquencies are not reported as accu-
rately as serious ones (Kleck 1982). The recent work of Hindelang,
Hirschi, and Weis suggests that the reverse is true, "apparently because
the latter are typically more complex and ambiguous than the former"
(Hirschi et al. 1982, p. 434). A second concern involves class bias in recall.
Hindelang et al. find no evidence of class bias and instead conclude that
"self-report delinquency measures are as valid among lower-class as
among middle-class white males" (1981, p. 196). If there were class bias,
recent theorizing suggests that it would make self-reports of common
~elinquency a conservative test of a positive claSS-delinquency rela-
tionship, because "middle- and upper-class people have more to lose
by self-disclosure and therefore would have more incentive to lie" (Tit-
tie, Villemez, and Smith 1982, p. 437; see also Hirschi 1969, p. 60). Scores
on the six items are added together to form the delinquency scale used
np]mM !hP r'f rp]i::lni]jhr rnpffiripnt it; 7R
42. Jolm Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson 667
MEASUREMENT OF INTERVENING VARIABLES
ll1ree kinds if intervening variables are included in our causal model of
gender and delinquency: parental controls, taste for risk, and perceived
sanction risk. Our measures of parental controls are drawn from the
work of Hirschi, who regards them as indicators of "attachment" (1969,
pp. 88-89). The four questions ask, "Does your (father) (mother) know
(where you are) (who you are with) when you are away from horneT'
The response categories-"always," "usually." "sometimes," and
"never"-are used to form separate two-item additive measures of ma-
temal (a = .66) and paternal (a = .78) controls. We use these items in
conjunction with sex of respondent to explore the instrument-object re-
lationship behveen mothers and daughters postulated above. We be-
lieve that these measures reflect the means by which important gender
relations are established, with implications for intervening attitudes and
consequent actions, including delinquent behavior.
Among the attitudes that we expect to be influenced by the instru-
ment-object relationship we have emphasized is a socially acquired taste
for risk (a = .67). This is measured by adding Likert-scaled responses to
MO statements: HI like to take risks" and "The things I like to do best are
dangerous." Power-control theory predicts that taste for risk is sexually
stratified, with males more than females taught to value risk taking. In
turn the taste for risk is expected to sexually stratify perceived risks of
getting caught and punished for delinquent behavior.
There is now solid evidence that perceived risks of sanctioning deter
delinquent behavior (e.g., Jensen, Erickson, and Gibbs 1978; Erickson,
Gibbs, and Jensen 1977). Our causal model predicts that a higher taste
for risk leads to a lower perceived risk of sanctioning; in other words,
taste for risk and perception of risk are inversely related. Perceived risks
of getting caught and punished are measured separately. The three "risk
of getting caught" items are derived from the work of Jensen et al. (1978)
and involve estimations of the likelihood of getting caught for specific
delinquent acts. Respondents were asked: "Could you (break into a
place) (steal from a store) (write graffiti) and not get caught?" Likert re-
sponses ranging from "definitely yes" to "definitely no" were summed
to scale perceived risks of getting caught (0; = .76). Perceived risk of
punishment was measured by asking respondents to agree or disagree in
Likert fashion to more generally formulated statements such as, "If you
break the law you will wind up being (charged by police) (sent to court)
(sent to an institution)." Scores on these items were summed to scale
perceived risks of punishment (0; = .74) ....
 668 New Directions in Deviance Theory
DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS
Ours is not the first theory of delinquent behavior to be informed by
Marxian ideas (see Spitzer 1975; Greenberg 1977; Colvin and Pauly 1983)_
It is, however, the first such formulation to be empirically tested; and it is
the first Marxian-based theory to address one of the most important rela-
tionships in delinquency research: that betvveen gender and delinquency.
We have demonstrated, using a power-control theory of delinquency
and a prediction made by Banger more than a half-century ago, that the
relationship between gender and common forms of delinquency declines
with each step down the class structure. Furthermore, where this rela-
tionship is strongest, it can be statistically removed by taking theoretically
predicted variables into account. A power-control theory does much to
specify and explain the class structure of gender and delinquency, and in
doing so it demonstrates the social bases of this relationship.
The core assumption of Our theory is that the presence of power
and the absence of control create conditions of freedom that permit com-
mOn forms of delinquency. It is important to emphasize that this for-
mulation is different from existing Marxian theories of delinquency. This
theoretical difference may derive from the different phenomena selected
for explanatory attention. Recently, Marxian theorists have followed
delinquency researchers in focusing on serious forms of delinquency.
For example, Colvin and Pauly announce in the first sentence of their
statement of a "structural-Marxist theory of delinquency production"
that their interest is in "serious patterned delinquent behavior, defined
as repeated engagement of a juvenile in the FBI's Part One Index crimes"
(1983, p. 513)_
We have noted previously that persons high in the class structure
rarely commit such offenses even once, much less repeatedly. Thls is,
of course, the class premise of a Marxian theory of serious delinquency.
The theoretical question is, What is it about conditions at the bottom of
the class structure that pressures persons to commit such acts?
Our focus, however, has been on common forms of delinquency.
We see no reason to assume that class, measured in Marxian terms, is re-
lated to common forms of delinquency in the same way that it is to se-
rious delinquency. Indeed, we have argued that positions of power,
defined in terms of class and gender, are conducive to higher rates of
common delinquency. The theoretical question we ask is, What is it
about conditions at the top of the social structure that allows persons to
commit such acts?
The first kind of theory assumes that people are driven to delin-
quency; the second, that they are more delinquent because they are free
• 1 , TT" ,. ~"I"n 1 -<, """ .. ' .1 _____ • ____ ! _ _ _ _ _ _ _ !"': __ I
42. John Hagan, A. R. Gillis, and John Simpson 669
support need not mean that the other is wrong. The two kinds of delin-
quency may demand different explanations.
It is important to clarify further why we have focused on common
forms of delinquency. Hindelang et a1. have estimated that the annual
prevalence of serious delinquency in the population is less that 2%-
3% (1979, p_ 1010)_ Given the small class fractions that interest Marxian
scholars (the surplus population is smaller than 10% and the capitalist
class smaller still) and the infrequency of such delinquencies, it will be
extremely difficult to test Marxian theories of serious delinquency. The
skewness of the two distributions will require either exceptionally large
samples or samples that are heavily stratified on the basis of known
correlates of serious delinquency (e.g., known court records). The former
approach will require financing on a grander scale than contemporary
victimization surveys (which involve more than 100,000 screening in-
terviews); the latter approach raises serious problems of generalization,
involving a use of official data sources that has thus far proved anathe-
ma to radical criminologists. On the basis of this knowledge, we fear
that empirical tests of Marxian theories of serious delinquency are un-
likely to emerge soon.
Meanwhile, there is much to be learned by both Marxists and non-
Marxists about the class structw:e of gender and more common forms of
delinquency. For example, our data are in some ways quite congenial to
a conventional functionalist understanding of stratification and its con-
sequences. Consider our findings regarding one variable, "taste for risk."
This variable plays a significant role in mediating the gender-delin-
quency relationship in the managerial and working class but not in the
employer class. To the extent that risk taking is valued, at least among
men in Western capitalist societies, the former findings are consistent
with traditional understandings of the role of socialization in fostering
attitudes that are conducive to upward mobility. Delinquency can be
tmderstood here as an unintended consequence. Nonetheless, at the top
of the class structure, males in the employer class are more delinquent
than females, not because they have a higher taste for risk but simply be-
cause they are less controlled by their parents and believe that they are
less likely to be punished for their delinquencies. This is the stuff from
which more critical theories are made.
Our findings therefore are not all of a piece. 111ey do aHinn one sim-
ple conclusion, however: Marxists and non-Marxists alli(e will benefit
from operationalizing the concepts of class, gender, the delinquency as
we have done in U-lis paper. Indeed, our findings indicate that to do oth-
erwise is to obscure the class structure of gender and common forms of
delinquency_
670 New Directions in Deviance Theory
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Alwin, Duane, and Robert Hauser. 1975. "The Decomposition of Effects in
Path Analysis." American Sociological Review 40:3--47.
Bendix, Reinhard. 1974. "Inequality and Social Structure: A Comparison of
Marx and Weber," American Sociological Re-view 39:149-61.
Black, Donald. 1979. "Common Sense in the Sociology of Law." Americall Soci-
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i·'
i 43. Sally s. Simpson 673
43 Feminist Theory, Crime, and Justice'"
SALLY S. SIMPSON
"WHY CAN'T A WOMAN BE MORE LIKE A MAN?"
One is tempted to respond to Henry Higgin's familiar lament with a
cynical observation: criminological theory assumes a woman is like a
man. As many feminist-criminologists have noted (early critics include
Heidensohn, 1968; Klein, 1973; and Smart, 1976), most middle-range
and macro theories of crime generously assume that what is true for the
gander is true for the goose (see also Harris, 1977). As tempting as this
simple assertion might be, however, a closer, inspection reveals a more
complicated picture.
Some feminist critics (Daly and Chesney-Lind, 1988) suggest that
criminology, like other social sciences, is androcentric, that is, study of
crime and the justice process is shaped by male experiences and under-
standings of the social world. Such studies/ realities form the core of
"general" theories of crime/ deviance without taking female experience,
as crime participant or victim, into account:
[Men] create the world from their own point of view, which Ulen be-
comes the truth to be described .... Power to create the world from
one's point of view is power in its male form (MacKinnon, 1982:23).
Not all criminological research has ignored women, but all too often,
pre-1970s research on female offenders and victims of crime fell prey to
unreflecting sexism and, in its more extreme form, misogyny. Females
who deviated from expected roles were viewed as morally corrupt, hys-
terical, diseased, manipulative, and devious (Glueck and Glueck, 1934).
Law-violating and -conforming behaviors were believed to stem from
the same etiological source-the female nature (Edwards, 1985; Klein,
1973).1 A woman, it seemed-whether good or bad-could never be like
a man.
These observations are not new, but they reflect a different voice, a
feminist voice, that has been added to the criminological discourse. The
purpose of this review essay is to introduce feminist criminology and its
intellectual parent, feminism, to the uninitiated reader. It would be pre-
sumptuous to suggest that all relevant studies and arguments about
Reprinted from Sally S. Simpson, "Feminist TIleory, Crime, and Justice," Criminology, voL
27, no. 4 (1989), pp. 605-63]. By permission of The American Society of Criminology.
*My thanks to Kathleen Daly, Nicole Halm Rafter, and N. Craig Smith for their in-
sightful comments on a draft of this paper. I was assisted in my revisions by the criti-
cisms of three anonymous reviewers. All of the above are to be commended for their
.. "";<'h~~n h",. ~n~n;r _n_~nnr;t...ln ~n_ ~I-_ ;..1 _____ ..I ___ • _ _ _ '-____ '-_! __ ~ I. ___ ,_
 I
674 New Directions in Deviance Theory
gender and crime are included here. Such an extensive review is more
appropriate for a book, and depending on the topic, it has likely already
been done and done well (e.g., Eaton, 1986; Freedman, 1981; Heiden-
solm, 1985; Mann, 1984; Naffine, 1988; Smart, 1976).lnstead, illustrative
examples of different types of feminist Htinking are presented to show
how feminism has reframed our points of reference, underlying as-
sumptions, and understandings about crime, victimization, and the jus-
tice process.
To achieve these aims, the paper is organized into three sections.
First, the perspectives and methods that constitute feminist analysis are
sorted and differentiated. Second, three areas of criminological study
(the female offender, female victim, and criminal justice processing) are
discussed because they are key areas in which feminist approaches have
been incorporated. Third, directions for further integration are suggested.
FEMINISM: PERSPECTIVES AND METHODS
Feminism is best understood as both a world view and a social move-
ment that encompasses assumptions and beliefs about the origins and
consequences of gendered social organization as well as strategic direc-
tions and actions for social change. As such, feminism is both analytical
and empirical. In its incipient form, feminist research almost exclusive-
ly focused on women-as a way of placing women at the center of in-
quiry and building a base of knowledge. As it has matured, feminism
has become more encompassing, taking into account the gendered un-
derstanding of all aspects of human culhlre and relationships (Stacey
and Thorne, 1985:305).
It would be a mistake, however, to think of feminism as a single
theory. Feminism has expanded into a diverse set of perspectives and
agendas, each based on different definitions of the "problem," compet-
ing conceptions of the origins and mechanisms of gender inequality / op-
pression, and divergent strategies for its eradication. Collectively, these
perspectives share a concern with identifying and representing women's
interests, interests judged to be insufficiently represented and accom-
modated withln the mainstream (OakJey, 1981:335).
LIBERAL FEMINISM
Liberal feminism was conceived within a liberal-bourgeois tradition that
called for women's equality of opportunity and freedom of choice
(Eisenstein, 1981). For the most part, liberal feminists see gender in-
pOllrilitv2 pmpra1ncr frnrn thp rrp::lnnn nf o:;:pn::lr::ltp ::lnrl rlic;:Hnrt c;:n'h"'r",c;:
43. Sally S. Simpson 675
of influence and traditional attitudes about the appropriate role of men
and women in society (Pateman, 1987). Such attitudes are reinforced by
discrimination against women in education, the work place, politics,
and other public arenas.
Liberals do not believe the system to be inherently unequal; dis-
crimination is not systemic. Rather, men and women can work together
to "androgynize" gender roles (i.e., blend male and female traits and
characteristics; Bern, 1974) and eliminate outdated policies and prac-
tices that discriminate against women. Affirmative action, the equal
rights amendment, and other equal opportunity laws/policies are ad-
vocated as redistributive measures until a meritocratic gender restruc-
turing of society occurs.
SOCIALIST FEMINISM
For socialists, gender oppression is an obvious feahrre of capitalist soci-
eties. Depending on whether one is a socialist woman (Marxist-femi-
nist) or a socialist-feminist, however, the weight that one gives to
capitalism as a necessary and/or sufficient cause of that oppression will
vary (Eisenstein, 1979). If one is the former, gender (and race) oppression
is seen as secondary to and reflective of class oppression.
Socialist-feminists attempt a synthesis between two systems of dom-
ination, class and patriarchy (male supremacy). Both relations of pro-
duction and reproduction are structured by capitalist patriarchy
(Beauvoir, 1960; Hartmann, 1979; Mitchell, 1971). Gender difference, as
defining characteristic of power and privilege in a capitalist society can
only be attacked by constructing a completely different society; one that
is free of gender and class stratification (Oakley, 1981).
RADICAL FEMINISM
The origins of patriarchy, and the subordination of women therein, are
seen by radical feminists to rest in male aggression and control of
women's sexuality. Men are inherently more aggressive than women,
who, because of their relative size disadvantages and dependency on
men during child-bearing years, are easy to dominate and control. The
arguments of radical feminists (e.g., Atkinson, 1974; Barry, 1979: Fire-
stone, 1970; Rich, 1980) bring sexuality to the analytical fore. The "per-
sonal" is "political" (MilIett, 1971). Sex not gender is the crucial
analytical category; male domination, not class, is the fundamental ori-
gin of female subordination. Radical feminists' political and social agen-
das encompass lesbian separatism (Atkinson, 1984) and technological
~,.,.~,- .... l .... ! ~~~~ .... ..l" .... ~: .... ~ I"C':_ ................. " 10'70\
676 New Directions in Deviance Theory
WOMEN OF COLOR
In her eloquent "Ain't I a woman" speech, Sojourner Truth (1851) in-
formed white suffragists of their myopia about race by highlighting
how as a black woman her experience was different from theirs. Joseph
and Lewis (1981) remind us that Truth's commentary is no less relevant
today. Many women of calor see the women's liberation movement as
hopelessly white and middle class, immune to their concerns. As Hooks
(1987:62) observed,
Most people in the United States thinlc of feminism ... as a movement
that aims to make women the social equals of men .... Since men are not
equals in white 5upremacist, capitalist, patriarchal class structure,
which men do women want to be equallo?
'TIle alternative frameworks developed by women of calor heighten
feminism's sensitivity to the complex inlerplay of gender, class, and race
oppression. Fah'iarchy permeates the lives of minority women, but it
does not take the same form that it does for whites (Brittan and May-
nard, 1984). Though these contributions may not have coalesced yet into
a coherent theoretical framework (at least according to Jagger and
Rothenberg, 1984), radical (Lorde, 1988), socialist (Mullins, 1986), and
Marxist (Davis, 1981) women of calor have provided possible points of
integration with theories of race oppression (e.g., Joseph, 1981a, 1981b;
Wellrnan, 1977).
In sum, feminist theory is not one perspective; it is a cacophony of
comment and criticism "concerned with demystifying masculine knowl-
edge as objective knowledge" (Brittain and Maynard, 1984:210) and of-
fering insights from a women's perspective.
FEMINIST METHODS
The male epistemological stance, whidl corresponds to the world it
creates, is objectivitYi tile ostensibly uninvolved stance, the view from
a distance and from no particular perspective, apparently transparent
la its reality. It does not comprehend its own perspectivity, does not
recognize what it sees as subject like itself, or that the way it appre-
hends its world is a form of its subjection and presupposes it (MacK-
innon (1982:23-24).
Concern over the nonobjective consequences of so-called objective
normal science (Kuhn, 1970) has led some feminists to challenge the
scientific enterprise. Keller (1982) arranges these challenges on a polit-
ical spectrum from slightly left of center (liberal feminists) to the more
radical left. The liberal critique takes an equal employment opportuni-
, • ,1. __ ._1_L! ____ 1... ______ t:. ~.T~~~~
43. Sally S. Simpson 677
entific community. This view "in no way conflicts either with tradi-
tional conceptions of science or with current liberal, egalitarian poli-
tics" (p. 114).
From this point, however, the criticisms become increasingly fun-
damental to the way knowledge is produced; they range from charges of
bias in selecting research topics and interpreting results to rejecting ra-
tionality and objectivity as purely male products. More radical femi-
nists have adopted a methodological strategy that is in direct opposition
to the scientific method. In order to "see" women's existence (which has
been invisible to objective scientific methods) "feminist women must
deliberately and courageously integrate ... their own experiences of op-
pression and discrimination ... into the research process" (Miles,
1983:121). Feminist metlzods are necessarily subjectivist, lTansdiciplinary,
nonhierarchical, and empowering.
Where one falls along Keller's feminist-political spectnlm will de-
termine one's choice of methods (i.e., quantitative versus qualitative)
and whether one sees methods and theory as interrelated as opposed to
separate and distinct. Thus, methods used by feminists are more diverse
than typically credited (for examples, see Jayarate, 1983; Reinhartz, 1983;
Stacey and Thorne, (1985).
Together, the above theoretical and methodological points form a
feminist perspective. All have been incorporated into criminology, but
some have had a greater impact than others. The goal in the next sec-
tion is to identify the ways in which these approaches and methods
have changed the way criminologists address the problems of crime
and justice.
INCORPORATING THE FRAMEWORKS
THE FEMALE OFFENDER
The stirrings of feminist criminology are nearly two decades old. Hei-
densohn (1968:171), in a "pre-feminist" paper, bemoaned t1,e state of
knowledge about female deviance and called for a "crash programme of
research which telescopes decades of comparable studies of males."
Later, ](jein (1973) and Smart (1976) were to bring explicitly feminist
perspectives to their critiques of extant theoretical and empirical work
on the female offender. Klein, a Marxist-feminist, noted the absence of
economic and other social explanations for female crime. Smart, work-
ing within more of a radical feminist perspective, stressed the linkages
among sexist theory, patriarchy, and sexism in practice-specifically
.(~~ ...... f.l~,., .... ,,;_ :.J __ L!L._! _ _ <.1 __ •• _I_L! ___ l . ! .• I __ L... _ _ _ • _ _ L ____ • ___ : . _ l ___ .. _____ ., _ _ _ _ 1__ •• <
678 New Directions in Deviance Theory
the causes of female crime and how female offenders are controlled and
treated.
Both Klein and Smart set an agenda for a new feminist criminology,
but their more radical approaches were derailed by the publication of
Simon's Women alld Crime and F. Adler's Sisters in Crime (1975). Claiming
that a "new" female offender was emerging (white collar and! or male
like), Simon and Adler generated tremendous interest in female crime (a
clear aim of incipient feminism). But, tying the female offender's emer-
gence to women's liberation brought about a "moral panic" (Smart,
1976), which was viewed by some as a blacklash to the women's move-
ment.J In Chesney-Lind's (1980:29) words, it represented "another in a
century long series of symbolic attempts to keep women subordinate
to men by theatening those who aspire for equality with the images of
the witch, the bitch, and the whore."4
As with many social problems of our day, female crime became in-
teresting only when it transcended the expected boundaries of class,
race, and gender. As a "quasi-theory," the liberation-crime relationship
had great appeal for nonfeminist criminologists. s But tests of the thesis
were less than supportive. In fact most discredited it (Austin, 1982:
Giordano et al., 1981), and others found evidence of a link between fe-
male crime and economic marginalization (Datesman and Scarpitti,
1980; Gora, 1982; Mukherjee and Fitzgerald, 1981; Steffensmeier, 1978,
1981; Steffensmeier and Cobb, 1981). The new female offender identi-
fied by Simon and Adler was more myth than reality (Steffensmeier,
1978). These conclusions did not cliffer substantially from IGein's (1973),
yet they came years after her original critique-a fact that dramatically
illustrates the marginality of feminist criminology at the time. Yet,
subsequent research on the causes of female crime has clearly but-
tressed the economic/ class perspectives of Marxist/ socialist feminists
as well as the "opportunity" perspectives of the liberal feminists (Age-
ton 1983; Box, 1983; Box and Hale, 1984; Elliot and Ageton, 1980; Gior-
dano et aI., 1981).
In retrospect, feminist criminology both gained and lost from the
narrow focus on liberation and crime. On the plus side, we gained a
better insight into the historical (Mukherjee and Fitzgerald, 1981) and
cross-cultural (F. Adler, 1981; Plenska, 1980) patterns of female crime.
But because the liberation thesis was so limited, it diverted attention
from the material and structural forces that shape women's lives and
experiences. It is in these areas that women of color and socialist and
radical feminist criminologists are more apt to focus etiological attention
(Hagan et al., 1985, 1987; Lewis, 1981; Miller, 1985; Rafter and Natalizia,
1981; Wilson, 1985).
'13. Sally S. Simpson 679
WOMEN VICTIMS: THE RADICAL FEMINIST CRITIQUE
Liberal feminism has dominated studies of the female offender, but the
same is not true of victimology (Daly and O,esney-Lind, 1988). Shifting
away from analyses that blame tile victim for her victimization (Amir,
1967),6 radical feminists have constructed alternative interpretations of
offender-victim relationships and victim experiences of criminal justice
(Chapman and Gates, 1978; Klein, 1981; Wood, 1981).
Brownmiller's (1975) historical and cross-cultural study of rape
brought a radical feminist perspective to the center of public conscious-
ness. Building on the argument that rape is not a crime of sex but rather
an act of power and dominance (Greer, 1970), Brownmiller concluded
that rape is a tool in the arsenal of all men to control all women.
Radical feminists have refrarned the ways in which rape is com-
monly understood in our society. Rather than a crime of sex, it is more
apt to be viewed as one of male power, control, and domination. Brown-
miller's work, coupled with that of other radical feminists (e.g., Griffin,
1979; Riger and Gordon, 1981), opened a floodgate of inquiry into rape
and other types of victimizations that are "uniquely feminine" (Wilson,
1985:4), such as pornography (Dworkin, 1981), battering (Dobash and
Dobash, 1979; Martin, 1976; Straus et al., 1980), incest (Finkelhor, 1979;
Moyer, 1985; Stanko, 1985) and sexual harassment (MacKinnon, 1979;
Stanko, 1985).
Guiding much of this research is the radical feminist critique of of-
ficial conceptions and definitions of violence, which are viewed as male
centered and incapable of incorporating the full range of female expe-
riences of violence (i.e., from intimidation and coercion to physical vio-
lence and death). A women-centered definition of violence is one that
portrays violence as a form of social domination rather than a random
and/or noninstrumental form of expression (Hanmer, 1981:32).
Radical feminists have dominated but not monopolized feminist
perspectives in this area. Socialist feminists, liberals, and women of calor
have also participated in the dialogue. Gordon's (1988) research of fam-
ily violence is implicitly critical of some radical feminists' overly deter-
ministic conception of patriarchy. Such an image, she argues, denies
agency to women and cannot incorporate "the chronic conflict, unpre-
dictability, and ambivalent emotions that have characterized relations
betvveen the sexes" (xi-xii).
In another historical study, Tomes (1978) links variations in spousal
abuse to changes in the economic position of the working class generally
and the male's position within the family specifically. As the working
class improved its economic position and males cemented greater power
680 New Directions in Deviance Theory
within their families, tile official incidence of working-class battering
decreased.
Based on her findings, Tomes argues that feminists may need to
reconceptualize the relationship among male power, female economic
dependency, and battering. Dependency is not necessarily tied to greater
abuse; in fact, the opposite may be true. A wife's economic indepen-
dence may exert a greater challenge to male authority within the fami-
ly, thus creating a climate in which husbands resort to battering as a
means to reestablish their control.
Studies that find great variety in the cross-cultural prevalence and
incidence of rape and battering (e.g., Pagelow, 1981; Sanday, 1981) have
forced feminists to examine patriarchal relations across different soci-
etal and situational arrangements (e.g., Wilson, 1985). If female victim-
ization is a function of changing the needs of a capitalist/patriarchal
system, then male domination and its relationship to female victimiza-
tion need not be viewed as inevitable or immutable.
Around the themes of rape and control of sexuality, patriarchy and
racism marry and divorce in intricate ways (Davis, 1981). In the United
States, white racism and fear gave rise to mythological constructions of
black sexuality. Black males are perceived as sexual threats and have
been hunted and hanged for their "rape potential." For black victims
of rape the justice process is not simply gendered-it is racially gen-
dered. Data indicate that black-an-black rapes are not taken as serious-
ly by authorities as those that involve white victims (Kleck, 1981; LaFree,
1980). Such findings have led one prominent black scholar aoseph,
1981b:27) to comment, "It must be considered an impossibility for white
men to rape Black women in the eyes of justice and in the minds of
many. Black women apparently are considered as something other than
'women'."
GENDER AND JUSTICE PROCESSING
A final area to be discussed in this literature review is gendered justice.
Comedian Richard Pryor once called attention to discrimination in the
U.S. criminal justice system by defining justice as "just us." His concern
with differential sentencing practices is one shared by feminists who
primarily study the conditions under which criminal justice is gendered
and with what consequences. Although liberal approaches typically
dominate the gender-and-justice research, other feminist perspectives
are gaining ground-especially in research on courts and corrections.
There are many stages in the criminal justice system at which gender
may have an impact on'decision making. The findings of some of the
43. Sally S. Simpson 681
better known studies of several strategic points in the decision-making
process are summarized below.
Police
Arguments about whether and how justice is gendered must begin with
police behavior. 111at police decisions to arrest can be influenced by ex-
tralegal factors such as the demeanor of the offender (Black, 1980), has
been established. It is less clear how gender, either alone or in conjunc-
tion with other characteristics, may consciously or inadvertently influ-
ence police behavior.
In the liberal "equal treatment" tradition, Moyer and White (1981)
test police bias in response decisions under "probable" responses to hy-
pothetical situations. Neither gender nor race had an effect on police
behavior once crime type, especially as it interacts with demeanor of
the offender, was controlled. On the other hand, Freyerhem's (1981)
comparison of juvenile male and female probabilities of transition from
self-report incident to police contact and arrest, finds males to be more
likely to incur police contact and arrest than females. Both of these stud-
ies are methodologically problematic, however. Moyer and White cannot
generalize their findings to real police encounters and Freyerhern
(1981:90) does not calculate transition probabilities across individual of-
fense categories, nor does he include status offenses. Avoiding some of
these methodological traps but still working within a liberal tradition,
Visher (1983) finds the interaction between race and gender to be a key
factor influencing arrest decision. Visher finds police chivalry only to-
ward white females once "legal" factors are controlled. She hypothe-
sizes that black females are treated more harshly than their white
counterparts because they are less apt to display expected (Le., tradi-
tional) gender behaviors and characteristics when they encounter a
mostly white and male police force.
Race and gender are also found to interact through victim charac-
teristics (Smith et al., 1984). An analysis of 272 police-citizen encoun-
ters, in which both a suspected offender and victim were present,
revealed that white female victims received more preferential treatment
from police than black female victims. Thus, although chivalry may be
alive and well for white women, it appears to be dead (if it ever existed)
for blacks.
Courts
Police contact is not the only point in justice processing at which dis-
crimination can occur. Women have been found to receive more lenient
treatment in the early stages of court processing (Le., bail, release on
682 New Directions in Deviance TIleory
own recognizance, and/or cash alternatives to bail; 1. Nagel, 1983) and
further into the process, e.g., conviction and sentencing (Bernstein et
aI., 1977; S. Nagel and Weitzman, 1972; Simon, 1975). Other studies find
no gender bias when controlling for crime seriousness and prior record
(Farrington and Morris, 1983) or little effect from extralegal factors when
legal factors and bench bias are controlled (L Nagel, 1983). Variation in
sentencing may be related to so-called counter-type offenses, that is,
women are treated more harshly when processed for nontraditional fe-
male crimes, like assault (Bernstein et al., 1977; S. Nagel and Weitzman,
1972), or when they violate female sexual norms (Chesney-Lind, 1973;
Schlossman and Wallach, 1978). Given variable-specification problems,
however, some of these findings are potentially spurious.
Once again, race may confound these effects. Spohn et al. (1982) ad-
dress the issue of paternalism in sentencing, especially for black women.
Controlling for prior record and attorney type, they found that black
women are incarcerated significantly less often than black men, but
about as often as white men. They conclude that the apparently lenient
treatment of black women is not due to paternalism in their favor but
rather to the racial discrimination against black vis-a.-vis white men.
Studies of court processing are not enlirely dominated by liberal
perspectives. More critical perspectives emphasize social power and pa-
triarchal control as the primary mechanisms through which justice is
gendered (Kruttschnitt, 1982, 1984). Eaton (1986:35) argues that magis-
trate courts in Great Britain (the lower courts) reinforce the dominant
imagery of justice (i.e., courts are ostensibly fair and just) while they
maintain the status quo: "It is in these courts that the formal rules of
society-the laws-are endorsed; it is here, too, that the informal, un-
written rules regulating social relations [e.g., gender, class and race] are
re-enacted."
When are females apt to be subjected to formal mechanisms of con-
trol? When other, more informal, constraints are lacking or disrupted.
Kruttschnitt (1982, 1984) suggests that sentencing outcomes are affected
by a women's social status and/or her respectability. Differential sen-
tencing among women is tied to the degree to which women are sub-
jected to formal versus informal social control in their everyday lives.
Daly (1987a, 1989b) and Eaton (1986, 1987) offer convincing evi-
dence that the most important factor determining sentence outcome,
once prior record and offense seriousness are controlled, is marital
and/ or familial status.? Marital status has been found to matter for
women (married receive more lenient sentences) but not for men (Far-
rington and Morris, 1983;LNagel, 1981) or to be as important for both
(Daly, 1987a, 1987b). . to jail or prison. Certain prison practices, such as checking for evidence
43. Sally S. Simpson 683
Pretrial release and sentencing are seen to be both "familied" and
"gendered." They are familied in that court decisions regarding the re-
moval of men and women from families "elicit different concerns from
the court" (Daly 1987a:154). They are gendered in that women's care of
others and male economic support for families represent" different types
of dependencies in family life" (p. 154). Men and women without fam-
ily responsibilities are treated similarly, but more harshly than familied
men and women. Women with families, however, are treated with the
greatest degree of leniency due to "the differing social costs arising from
separating them from their families" (Daly, 1987b:287). The economic
role played by familied men can, more easily, be covered by state enti-
tlement programs, but it is putatively more difficult to replace the func-
tional role of familied women. Judges rationalize such sentencing
disparities as necessary for keeping families together (Daly, 1989b).
As these latter studies suggest, much of the observed gender bias in
processing may not be a case of overt discrimination for or against
women relative to men. Instead, judicial decisions may be influenced
by broader societal concerns about protecting nuclear families (Daly,
1989b) and the differing roles and responsibilities contained therein
(Eaton, 1986). It is not clear that such forms of justice are overtly pater-
nalistic, nor are they necessarily racist. Rather, in a society that strati-
fies other rights and privileges by gender, race, and class, "equality" in
sentencing may not be just (Daly, 1989a).
Eaton (1986:10-11) takes a somewhat different view of familied jus-
tice. In her opinion, the courts reflect the needs and interests of patri-
archy and capitalism, in which attendant inequities are reproduced.
"Family-based" justice is a visible manifestation of the patriarchal and
capitalist need to maintain and protect the nuclear family-within which
gender and productive/reproductive relations first emerge.
Corrections
As it became clear that, compared with males, female prisoners were
treated differently (in some cases more leniently and in others more
harshly), liberal feminist perspectives came to dominate research ques-
tions and policy considerations (see, Haft, 1980; Heide, 1974; Simon,
1975).
The linkages between female incarceration and male control of fe-
male sexuality are developed by radical feminists (Chesney-Lind, 1973;
Smart, 1976). Rasche (1974), for example, describes how prostitutes with
venereal disease were prosecuted and institutionalized, with the "cure"
as a condition of release. Nondiseased prostitutes were less likely to go
684 New Directions in Deviance Theory
of a hymen during forced physical examinations and vaginal contra-
band searches, have been used as techniques to control the sexuality of
youthful offenders and to humiliate and degrade female inmates
(Burkhart, 1973; Chesney-Lind, 1986).
Socialist feminists emphasize how prison tenure and treatment vary
by class and race (Freedman, 1981; French, 1977, 1978; Lewis, 1981;
Rafter, 1985). In her historical accounting of the development of
women's prisons, Rafter (1985:155) observes how race determined
whether and where a woman was sent to prison.
Comparison of incarceration rates and in-prison treatment of black
women and white women demonstrates that partiality was extended
mainly to whites. Chivalry filtered them out of the prison system, help-
ing to create the even greater racial imbalances among female than
male prisoner populations. And partiality toward whites contributed to
the development of a bifurcated system, one track custodial and pre-
dominantly black, the other reformatory and reserved mainly for
whites.
The bifurcated system of women's corrections emerges in part from
twu competing images of female nature. In one view, women are seen as
fragile and immature creatures, more childlike than adult. Consequent-
ly, the female offender is perceived as a "fallen woman," in need of guid-
ance but not a true danger to society (Rasche, 1974). The reformatory is
perfectly suited to such an offender. Primarily staffed by reform-mind-
ed middle-class women, reformatory training programs emphasized
skills that would turn the white, working-class misdemeanants into
proper (and class-appropriate) women, that is, good servants or wives
(Rafter, 1985:82).
In custodial prisons, however, a different archetype dominated.
Women's "dark side," their inherent evil and immorality (Smart, 1976)
shaped plison philosophy. Here, the predominantly black felons (who
were perceived as more masculine, more sel£-centered, volatile, and dan-
gerous) were treated like men-only, given the conditions of their in-
carceration (i.e., fevvness of numbers and at the mercy of violent male
offenders), their equality was tantamount to brutal treatment and often
death (Rafter, 1985:181).
The degree to which prisons function as something other than just
places of punishment and/ or treatment is a popular theme in neo-Marx-
ist literature. Extending this interpretation to women, Marxist-feminists
(e.g., Wilson, 1985; Hartz-Karp, 1981) argue that prisons, like other in-
stitutions of social control (e.g., mental health facilities), retool deviant
women for gender-appropriate roles in capitalist patriarchal societies:
If deviant women are more frequently assigned to the mental health
• " ., • 1.1 • d .. · •. ' .. _1' ___ '-" ____ ._~
43. Sally S. Simpson 685
haps because of the superior ability of the mental health system to "re-
tool" worn-out or rebellious domestic workers. (Wilson, 1985:18)
SocietaI control of female deviance serves the needs of capital. When
those needs change, so too will the mechanisms and directions of so-
cial controLB
In this vein, Carlen (1983) demonstrates how udovm, out and dis-
ordered" women in Scotland are disciplined through medical and judi-
cial apparatuses. Most of the imprisoned are poor women; many have
histories of alcohol and drug abuse, and a large number come from vi-
olent homes. These life experiences combine, setting into motion a cycle
of deviance, imprisonment, and patriarchal and class discipline that is
tenacious and defeating:
Being seen as neither wholly mad nor wholly bad, [women] are treat-
ed to a disciplinary regime where they are actually infantalised at the
same time as attempts are made to make them feel guilty about their
double, triple, quadruple, or even quintuple refusal of family, work,
gender, health, and reason (Caden, 1983:209).
WHERE TO GO FROM HERE?
In 1976, Carol Smart suggested a number of topics for feminists re-
search.9 A decade later, feminist criminology has amassed a considerable
body of knowledge in most of these areas-so much so in fact that fem-
inists now are more self-critical-especially in the areas of policy and
legislative changes (see Daly and Chesney-Lind, 1988). TItis is a positive
step. It suggests not only that a feminist voice is being heard, but that it
is loud enough to produce disagreement and intellectual exchange.
Nonetheless, certain areas in criminology, either have been underex-
posed or are resistant to feminist concerns. Thus, SOme new directions
for feminist criminology are discussed below. 1o
RACE AND CRIME
Poorly conceived offender self-report surveys provided criminologists
with the empirical justification to ignore the race-crime relationship, and
the prevailing political climate reinforced our myopia. There is enormous
risk in ignoring that relationship, however. First, based on more sophis-
ticated crime measures (e.g., National Youth Survey.. National Crime Sur-
vey, cohort studies), it is clear that the race-crime· relationship is an
essential one. Second, and not unlike the gender-crime relationship, such
___ :1., ___ _ reticence leaves the interDretive door ooen to less critical npr.<:;nprtivp~ .
686 New Directions in Deviance Theory
I 43. Sally S. Simpson
Feminist criminologists have great potential in this area, but the
data are sparse and problematic and the analytic contributions few. Too
often we rely on quantitative studies that dichotomize race into white
and black, or the nonwhite category is broadened to include groups
other than blacks (see, e.g., Tracy et al., in press). In the former instance,
other ethnic/racial groups are ignored; in the latter, such inclusive cat-
egorizations assume etiological and historical! cultural invariance be-
tween groups.
Clearly, one of the first places for feminists to start is to target
women of color for greater research. Available data indicate that there
are significant differences between black and white female crime rates
(Age ton, 1983; Chilton and Datesman, 1987; Hindelang, 1981; Laub and
McDermott, 1985; Mann, 1987; Young, 1980). Simpson (1988), Miller
(1985), and Lewis (1981) argue that the unique structural and cultural
positioning of black women produces complex cultural typescripts that
exert push-pull pressures for crime, pressure that may not exist for white
women.
Miller's (1985;177-178) etlmography of lower-class deviant networks
describes how certain types of male and female criminality (e.g., hus-
tling, pimping, and other instrumental crimes) are interdependent in
minority communities. Female crime also appears to have a group-
directed and -enacted dimension (see Young, 1980). The collective nahlre
of such minority offending may stem from the fact that it emerges, in
part, from the integrated and extended domestic networks of under-
class blacks (Miller, 1985) and from joint participation in gang activities
(Campbell,1984).
These observations do not imply, however, that patriarchy is absent
from these communities. Male dominance and control are reproduced
within interpersonal relationships (not necessarily familial) and em-
bodied in informal organizations, like gangs (Campbell, 1984) and state
social service agencies. Some female offending can be interpreted as
challenging patriarchal control and asserting independence (Campbell,
1984:135); much can be attributed to both economic necessity and the
pull and excitement of street life (Campbell, 1984; Miller, 1985). Female
participation in violent crime may stem from abusive relationships be-
hveen men and women (Browne, 1987; Mann, 1987) and/or the frus-
tration, alienation, and anger that are associated with racial and class
oppression (Simpson, 1988).
Research by Hill and Suval (1988) suggests that the causes of crime
may differ for black and white women, which raises questions about
whether current theories of female crime, including fentinist perspec-
tives, are white-female centered. Given the paucity of data on how gen-
687
der structures relationships within minority communities and families,
it is impossible to say.
More quantitative research is needed on minority groups other than
blacks (e.g., Chicanos and other Hispanics, Asians, Native Americans) to
establish a better knowledge base, but qualitative studies that probe cul-
hlre and subjective differences behNeen women of calor and whites are
also essential (MuIlins, 1986). Feminist criminologists are guilty of the
"add race and stir" shortsightedness that pervades feminist thinking.
We would do well to heed Speiman's (1988:166) reminder of how to un-
derstand and approach differences among women:
If we assume there are differences among women, but at the same time
they are all the same as women, and if we assume the woman part is
what we know from looking at the case of white middle-class women,
then we appear to be talking only about white middle-class women.
This is how white middle-class privilege is maintained even as we pur-
port to recognize the importance of women's differences.
ELITE CRIME
[n 1977, Harris admonished criminologists for their failure to use lithe
sex variable" as the empirical building block for all theories of criminal
deviance. Apparently (though not surprisingly) this was interpreted to
apply only to street crime. The entire are of white-collar, corporate,
and organizational crime has not been examined from a feminist per-
spective.
Officially, women are underrepresented in white-collar crime data
although recent Bureau of Justice Statistics (1987) data suggest that
women have made inroads into this formerly male domain. Similar
claims are made regarding female penetration of the upper reaches of or-
ganized crime (Simpson, 1987). Yet, Daly (1988) finds neither the crime
types nor the offenders themselves to be particularly elite.
Much of our information on female participation in organized Clime
is anecdotal, derived from the nonsystematic observations of male crime
participants. Consequently, there has been little systematic research on
women's penetration of and mobility within illicit markets. The official
data on corporate and other white-collar offending are equally prob-
lematic (see Reiss and Biderman, 1980). Given that both the data and
interpretation/ theory in these areas are suspect, fentinist researchers
must first develop an empirical base with which to answer the following
types of questions. Is elite crime a male domain (Steffensmeier, 1983)?
What are the motivations and characteristics of women who do partic-
ipate (Daly, 1988; Zietz, 1981)? How are they similar and different from
 688 New Directions in Deviance Theory
male offenders (P. Adler, 1985; Block, 1977; Simpson, 1987)? What ex-
plains the official increase in female participation in white-collar of-
fenses?
At this point, feminists have barely scratched the surface of the elite
crime area. Daly (1988) is providing some direction, but much more
needs to be done.
DETERRENCE
Gender confounds the anticipated relationship between objective sanc-
lion risks and criminal activity, that is, given that female sanction risks
are low, women should have high rates of law breaking. Yet, as virtual-
ly all measures of crime document, the exact opposite is true. This em-
pirical relationship has left deterrence theorists scrambling to make
sense of the inconsistency.
Richards and little (1981:183-185) argue that there are at least five
lines of reasoning that would predict that women perceive higher levels
of risk than do men. Using measures derived from these hypotheses,
they find two variables, stakes in conformity and perceptions of visibil-
ity, to be highly associated with gender differences in perceived chances
of arrest:
Women may think that legal sanction is relatively certain because they
are more lil<ely to think of themselves as subject to surveillance and
general social sanctions than are men. Their greater relative stakes in
conformity may make deviance more threatening for them, and lead to
high sanction risk estimates (p. 196).
The social control literature, in general, characterizes female con-
formity in a stereotypical manner. Conforming females are seen as pas-
sive, compliant, and dependent. Instead, Naffine (1988:131) suggests that
the conforming women be seen as lIinvolved and engrossed in conven-
tionallife. But. .. also actively concerned about the affects of her behavior
on her loved ones, particularly emotionally and financially dependent
children." (Naffine is especially critical of Hagan et al., 1979, 1985, 1987.)
Naffine's image of conformity is partially influenced by Gilligan's
(1982) work in moral development theory. Gilligan's research discov-
ers that men and women use "a different voice" when they talk about
moral responsibility. If the moral calculus of reasoning about crime is
different between men and women, Gilligan may have identified a new
way of conceptualizing gender differences in (1) perceived threat of
sanction and (2) male-female crime rates. According to her theory, men
often make moral decisions based on an "ethic of justice," while women
employ a model of decisibn making based on "ethic of care." The former
;,.. "" ....... ,..,. ...... ""h... h-"" ....;. ,..,...,"'...:1 ....1 "'v-n... a""a...:l
43. Sally S. Sirnpson 689
and rules (e.g., Kohiberg, 1981). In the latter, decisions are governed by
"a psychological logic of relationships, which contrasts with the formal
logic of fairness that informs the justice approach" (Gilligan, 1982: 73).
A woman's decision to violate the law will depend on her definition
of the moral domain (i.e., how will my act affect those around me, those
who count on me). It is not surprising that in some deterrence studies
(Finley and Grasmick, 1985) women score significantly higher than men
on measures of internalized guilt. Because women are responsible for the
care of relationships, any act that may result in their removal from that
role is apt to produce a tremendous sense of guilt. Guilt may be negated
if the needs of the family (for food or other valued items) outweigh the
"immorality" of breaking the law to obtain them or if others are avail-
able to take on the responsibilities of care.
Gilligan's theory can be used to explain why most women do not vi-
alate the law and why they score higher on most measures of deter-
rence. It can also explain class and race differences in female crime rates.
Lower-class and minority women are more apt to find themselves in
situations that require a renegotiation of the moral domain and, given
their kinship networks, they have a greater chance of finding care sub-
stitutes (Miller, 1985). Not surprisingly, Fioley and Grasmick (1985) re-
port that blacks score lower on certainty and severity of guilt than their
white counterparts.
Some critics suggest that Gilligan's findings are biased (she inter-
viewed mostly middle-class students) or that they may be a function of
subordinate female social position, not real differences in ethical philoso-
phies (Toronto, n.d.). These are important criticisms that must be
addressed before we proceed too enthusiastically. Gilligan's conceptu-
alization of differences in gender-based moral reasoning, however, are
an important contribution and warrant further research.
CONCLUSION
Feminlst criminology has changed dramatically since Klein (1973) and
smart (1976) first called attention to it. Replicating the same political
and analytical development as the broader feminist movement, feminist
contributions to the study of crime and justice began with more liberal
approaches and have recently been giving way to more radical critiques.
Liberal feminist dominance rests, in part, in ideological coherence-
these approaches correspond closely with the ideas and beliefs embod-
ied in most capitalist democracies. Thus, liberalism in any form is less
threatening and more acceptable than a feminism that questions white,
"" ." "of. n~ n ..in,..,i.,loc rlofin-ina r;a"hh: lTl~lo :o!nrl! nr f':o!nib li..:t nMvilpap 11 A rlrlitinn;\llv lihpr;\l fpTniniRh; .<::np<'Ik
690 New Directions in Deviance Theory
in the same voice as a majority of social scientists, that is, they are ra-
tional, objective, and (typically) quantitative. Consequently, their data
and interpretations carry more weight within the scientific community
and among their peers.
TIlOugh liberal/ quantitative approaches offer important insights
into gender as a "variable" problem (Stacey and Thome, 1985), crimi-
nologists need to be more ecumenical in studying gendered society. If
we emphasize qualitative (e.g., Campbell, 1984; Carien, 1986; Eaton,
1986; Miller, 1985), historical (Gordan, 1988; Freedman, 1981; Rafter,
1985), and subjectivist (Stacey and Thorne, 1985) approaches in addi-
tion to quantitative, the detail and texture of how crime and justice are
gendered will lead to richer theory and better criminology.
There are areas in criminology into which feminists have only mar-
ginally ventured or in which their contributions have been of little Con-
sequence. In their review of feminist criminology, Daly and
Chesney-Lind (1988:512-513) discuss the problems that feminists have
had building and developing theories of female crime. It is not coinci-
dental that the areas targeted for further research in this paper (e.g., race
and crime, elite crime, and deterrence) all focus on this problematic area.
Until we can better deal with the empirical complexities of criminal of-
fending, it will be too easy for our critics to dismiss feminist contribu-
tions to the study of crime as facile, rhetorical, and/ or atheoretical.
NOTES
1. This is not to suggest that biological reductionisrn is absent in
studies/theories of male criminality. Such explanations of male crime
abound (e.g., Wilson and Hermstein, 1985). However, with the demise of
phrenology, social factors replaced biology as key etiological forces.
These explanations have not been seriously challenged. Conversely, until
the feminist critique of the 1970s, biogenic/psychogenic models of fe-
male crime went, for the most part, unchallenged.
2. Phillips (1987) argues that the choice of terms describing gender relations
imply particular views of what the problem is. So, inequality (a term fa-
vored by liberals and some women of col or) suggests that women de-
serve what men and/or whites are granted. Oppression (socialists and
women of calor) implies a complex combination of forces (ideological,
political, and economic) that keep woman in her place. Subordination is
a term favored by radical feminists and some women of calor who iden-
tify the holder of power as the culprit (men and whites respectively).
3. The links between women's liberation and changing patterns of female
crirninality were matje before. Bishop (1931) complained that women's
liberation during the 1920s had three negative results: (1) more women
43. Sally S. Simpson 691
criminal more often; and (3) women were becoming sexually criminal at
a younger age (cited in Rasche, 1974).
4. To be fair, both Simon and Adler had more to offer than mere speculation
about the "dark side" of women's liberation. Simon's research docu-
ments the basic inequities between male and female correctional facilities
and treahnents. By attributing these differences to male chivalry toward
women, she takes a liberal feminist approach to the problem of gender
and justice, an approach that heavily influenced later works in this area.
Adler's work, while more impressiOnistic than Simon's, attempted to ex-
plain differences in crime rates betvveen white and black females. Al-
though her interpretations gave rise to more systematic examinations of
intra-gender race differences in crime that are highly Critical of her inter-
pretations and methods, the issues she raised are of primary importance
to most feminist criminologists today.
5. A research focus on gender alone does not qualify one as a feminist just
as a focus on class does not make one a marxist. Rather, as part of their
endeavor, feminist Criminologists must seriously consider the nature of
gender relations and the peculiar brand of oppression that patriarchal re-
lations bring (Leonard, 1982).
6. Precipitous behavior has ranged from dreSSing provocatively, saying no
to sex while "meaning" yes, "nagging" a spouse, Lolita-like seductive-
ness on the part of the victim, and so on.
7. These effects appear to be strongest for black defendants (Daly, 1989a).
8. Cloward and Piven (1979) and Box (1983) assert that female deviance is
handled by the medical community, in part, because women are more
likely to direct their deviance inward (Le., they privatize it into self-de-
structive behaviors, like depreSSion and suicide). Such behavior is con-
ceptualized as sickness (like "hysteria" earlier) and is thus subject to the
formal control of the psychiatric community.
9. The relevant topics are the female offender and the attitudes of criminal
justice personnel toward her; criminal justice processing; gender and cor-
rections; and the structure and purpose of law.
10. To suggest that feminists need to identify areas "appropriate" for femi-
nist critique implies that knowledge, as currently constructed, is selec-
tively androcentric. I would argue that criminology as a whole, like other
academic disciplines, needs a feminist "overhflul."
11. Stacey and Thome (1985:308) argue that more radical feminist thinking
has been marginalized-ghettoized Within Marxist sociology, which en-
sures that feminist thinking has less of a chance to influence mainstream
sociological paradigms and research.
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43. Sally S. Simpson 693

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• _ r ... 1. __ ..1 _ •• ..1 ' . ' _ ' __ ~n,,"~ ~nOn """-=_: __ 1 _ _ .""",1'7':1 ,In'7 Criminology, Atlanta .
 43. Sally S. Simpson 695
694 New Directions in Deviance Theory

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 702 New Directions in Deviance Theory
44 Crime, Shame and Reintegration
JOHN BRAITHWAITE
A PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF THE THEORY
The first step to productive theorizing about crime is to think about the
contention that labeling offenders makes things worse. The contention is
both right and wrong. The theory of reintegrative shaming is an attempt
to specify when it is right and when wrong. The distinction is between
shaming that leads to stigmatization-to outcasting, to confirmation of
a deviant master status-versus shaming that is reintegrative, that
shames while maintaining bonds of respect or love, that sharply termi-
nates disapproval with forgiveness, instead of amplifying deviance by
progressively casting the deviant out. Reintegrative shaming controls
crime; stigmatization pushes offenders toward criminal subcultures.
The second step to more productive theorizing about crime is to re-
alize what scholars like Sutherland, Cressey and Glaser grasped long
ago-that criminality is a function of the ratio of associations favorable
to crime to those unfavorable to crime. If this is a banal point, it is one
that criminological theorist systematically forget. As Daniel Glaser com-
mented on an earlier draft of this book:
What we need to develop and operationalize in various social contexts
is a theory of tipping points, of the persons and circumstances in which
particular types of Jabeling and punishment shift the predominant
stake of the subjects from conformity to nonconformity with the legal
norms, and vice versa. Much of the difference betvveen delinquency
theorists reflects the fact that the samples they studied were on differ-
ent sides of this tipping point. Hirschi focused on the 75 percent of a
cross-section of secondary school students who completed his ques-
tionnaires, and were predominantly not very delinquent, while Shaw
and McKay as well as Murray and Cox studied repeatedly arrested
youths in delinquent and criminal gangs from high crime-rate slums.
Like the blind Hindus in the legend, each generalized from the differ-
ent parts of the elephant that they encountered.
111e theory of reintegrative shaming contends that we can sensibly
talk about criminal subcultures. We require a theory which comes to
grips with the multiple moralities which exist in contemporary soci-
eties. A severe limitation of theories that deny this, like Hirschi's control
Reprinted from John Braithwaite, Crime, 51U1l!1e and Reintegration, pp. 12-15,98-107.
© 1989 Cambridge University Press. Reprinted with the permission of Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
44. John Braithwaite 703
theory, is that they give no account of why some uncontrolled individ-
uals become heroin users, some become hit men, and others price fixing
conspirators. At the same time, we must recognize that the criminal law
is a powerfully dominant majoritarian morality compared with the mi-
nority subculture of the heroin user or the industry association's price
fixing circle. There is a powerful consensus in modern industrial soci-
eties over the rightness of criminal laws which protect our persons and
property, if not over victimless crimes. Even most criminal subcultures
do not transmit an outright rejection of the criminal law, rather they
transmit means of rationalizing temporary suspension of one's com-
mitment to the law, symbolic resources for insulating the offender from
shame.
The theory is one of predatory crime-whether perpetrated by ju-
venile delinquents, street offenders or business executives-of viola-
tions of criminal laws which prohibit one person from preying on others.
Societies that shame effectively will be more successful in controlling
predatory crime because there will be more shaming directed at non-
compliance with the law than shaming (within subcultures) for com-
plying with the law. It is important to understand that for domains where
the criminal law does not represent a clearly majoritarian morality, the
theory of reintegrative shaming will fail to explain variation in behavior.
It provides a thoroughly inadequate account of nonpredatory criminal
behavior like homosexuality because, even in a society with great ca-
pacities to shame effectively, if half the population does not believe the
behavior should be criminalized, there may be as much shaming di-
rected at gays who refuse to come out of the closet, and at those who op-
press homosexuals, as there is shaming directed at the offending itself.
The theory of reintegrative shaming is not a satisfactory general theory
of deviance because its explanatory power declines as dissensus in-
creases over whether the conduct should be viewed as deviant. It is best
reserved for that domain where there is strong consensus, that of preda-
tory crimes (crimes involving victimization of one party by another).
While it is true with respect to this domain that criminal subcul-
tures are always minority phenomena, some types of societies will have
more virulent criminal subcultures than others. For example, societies
which segregate oppressed racial minorities into stigmatized neighbor-
hoods create the conditions for criminal subculture formation.
The theory of reintegrative shaming posits that the consequence of
stigmatization is attraction to criminal subcultures. Subcultures supply
the outcast offender with the opporhmity to reject her rejectors, thereby
maintaining a form of self-respect. In contrast, the consequence o~ rein-
tegrative shaming is that criminal subcultures appear less attractive to
 706 New Directions in Deviance Theory
there must be a statement that explains the statistical distribution of
the behavior in time and space (epidemiology), and from which pre-
dictive statements about unknown statistical distributions can be de-
rived. Second, there must be a statement that identifies, at least by
implication, the process by which individuals come to exhibit the be-
havior in question, and from which can be derived predictive state-
ments about tile behavior of individuals. (Cressey, 1960:47).
KEY CONCEPTS
1I1terdepelldenClj is a condition of individuals. It means the extent to which
individuals participate in networks wherein they are dependent on oth-
ers to achieve valued ends and others are dependent on them. We could
describe an individual as in a state of interdependency even if the indi-
viduals who are dependent on him are different from the individuals on
whom he is dependent. Interdependency is approximately equivalent to
the social bonding, attachment and commitment of control theory.
COllllllUltitarianislll is a condition of societies. In communitarian so-
cieties individuals are densely enmeshed in interdependencies which
have the special qualities of mutual help and trust. The interdependen-
cies have symbolic significance in the culture of group loyalties which
take precedence over individual interests. The interdependencies also
have symbolic significance as attaclunents which invoke personal oblig-
ation to others in a community of concern, rather than simply interde-
pendencies of convenience as between a bank and a small depositor. A
communitarian culture rejects any pejorative connotation of dependen-
cy as threatening individual autonomy. Communitarian cultures resist
interpretations of dependency as weakness and emphasize the need for
mutuality of obligation in interdependency (to be both dependent and
dependable). The Japanese are said to be socialized not only to amaeru
(to be succored by others) but also to C/lllayakasu (to be nurturing to oth-
ers) (Wagatsuma and Rosett, 1986).
Shaming means all social processes of expressing disapproval which
have the intention or effect of invoking remorse in the person being
shamed and! or condemnation by others who become aware of the
shaming. When associated with appropriate symbols, formal punish-
ment often shames. But societies vary enormously in the extent to which
formal punishment is associated with shaming or in the extent to which
social meaning of punishment is no more than to inflict pain to tip
reward-cost calculations in favor of certain outcomes. Shaming, wtlike
purely deterrent punishment, sets out to moralize with the offender to
communicate reasons for the evil of her actions. Most shaming is neither
associated with formal puriishment nor perpetrated by the state, U10ugh
t..~.j.1-. ~L. __ ! __ L~~.<.L _ _ .1._ .1. _ _ ._..1 _1 __ ••• : ••• ___ : ,1 •.•...• , _1.
44. John Brailhwaite 707
types of shaming. Most shaming is by individuals within interdepen-
dent communities of concern.
Reintegrative shaming is shaming which is followed by efforts to rein-
tegrate the offender back into the community of ~aw-abiding or
respectable citizens through words or gestures of forgIveness or cere-
monies to decertify the offender as deviant. Shaming and reintegration
do not occur simultaneously but sequentially, with reintegration occur-
ring before deviance becomes a master status. It is shaming which labels
the act as evil while striving to preserve the identity of the offender as es-
sentially good. It is directed at signifying evil deeds rather than evil per-
sons in the Christian tradition of 'hate the sin and love the sinner.'
Specific disapproval is expressed within relationships characterized by
general social approval; shaming criminal behavior is complemented
by ongoing social rewarding of alternative behavior patterns. Reinte-
grative shaming is not necessarily weak; it can be cruel, even vicio~s .. It
is not distinguished from stigmatization by its potency, but by (a) a f!illte
rather than openended duration which is tenninated by forgiveness:
and by (b) efforts to maintain bonds of love or respect Uu:oughout the fi-
nite period of suffering shame. .
Stigmatization is disintegrative shaming in which no effort 15 made to
reconcile the offender with the community. The offender is outcast, her
deviance is allowed to become a master status, degradation ceremonies
are not followed by ceremonies to decertify deviance.
Criminal subcultures are sets of rationalizations and conduct norms
which cluster together to support criminal behavior. The clustering is
usually facilitated by subcultural groups which provide systematic social
support for crime in any of a number of ways-supplying members
with criminal opportunities, criminal values, attitudes which weaken
conventional values of law-abidingness, or techniques of neutralizing
conventional values.
SHORT SUMMARY OF THE THEORY
The following might serve as the briefest possible summary of the theo-
ry. A variety of life circumstances increase the chances that individuals
will be in situations of greater interdependency, the most important
being age (under 15 and over 25), being married, female, employed, and
having high employment and educational aspirations. Interdependent
persons are more susceptible to shaming. More importantly, societies in
which individuals are subject to extensive interdependencies are more
likely to be communitarian, and shaming is much more widespread and
_., •
potent in comm~tarian societies ..Ur?aniz~tion and high res.ide~ti~l mo-

708 New Directions in Deviance Theory
The shaming produced by interdependency and communitarian-
ism can be either of two types-shaming that becomes stigmatization or
shaming that is followed by reintegration. The shaming engendered is
more likely to become reintegrative in societies that are commurutarian.
In societies where shaming does become reintegrative, low crime rates
are the result because disapproval is dispensed without eliciting a re-
jection of the disapprovers, so that the potentialities for future disap-
proval are not dismantled. Moreover, reintegrative shaming is superior
even to stigmatization for conscience-building.
Shaming that is stigmatizing, in contrast, makes criminal subcul-
tures more attractive because these are in some sense subcultures which
reject the rejectors. Thus, when shaming is allowed to become stigmati-
zation for want of reintegrative gestures or ceremonies which decertify
deviance, the deviant is both attracted to criminal subcultures and cut off
from other interdependencies (with family, neighbors, church, etc.). Par-
ticipation in subcultural groups supplies criminal role models, training in
techniques of crime and techniques of neutralizing crime (or other forms
of social support) that make choices to engage in crime more attractive.
Thus, to the extent that shaming is of the stigmatizing rather than the
reintegrative sort, and that criminal subcultures are widespread and ac-
cessible in the society, higher crime rates will be the result. While societies
characterized by high levels of stigmatization will have higher crime
rates than societies characterized by reintegrative shaming, the former
will have higher or lower crime rates than societies with little shaming at
all depending largely on the availability of criminal subcultures.
Yet a high level of stigmatization in the society is one of the very
factors that encourages criminal subculture formation by creating pop-
ulations of outcasts with no stake in conformity, no chance of self-es-
teem within the terms of conventional society-individuals in search of
an alternative culture that allows them self-esteem. A comrnunitarian
culture, on the other hand, nurtures deviants within a network of at-
tachments to conventional society, thus inhibiting the widespread out-
casting that is the stuff of subculture formation.
For clarity of exposition the two types of shaming have been pre-
sented as a stark dichotomy. In reality, for any society some deviants
are dealt with in ways that are more stigmatic while others receive more
reintegrative shaming. Indeed, a single deviant will be responded to
more stigrnatically by some, more reintegratively by others. To the extent
that the greater weight of shaming tends to stigmatization, the crime-
producing processes on the right of Figure 44.1 are more likely to be
triggered; to the extent that the balance of shaming tips toward reinte-
gration, informal processes of crime control are more likely to prevail
44. John Braithwaite 709
The other major societal variable which fosters criminal subculture
formation is systematic blockage of legitimate opportunities for critical
fractions of the population. If black slum dwellers are systematically
denied economic opportunities because of the stigma of their race and
neighborhood, then criminal subcultures will form in those outcast
neighborhoods. It can be seen that stigmatization (as opposed to social
integration) as a cultural disposition may contribute to the systematic
blockage of these economic opportunities; but cultural variables like
stigmatization will be of rather minor importance compared with struc-
tural economic variables in determining opportunities. I have argued
that the blockages in this part of the theory are not restricted to closed
opportunities to climb out of poverty; systematically blocked opportu-
nities for ever greater wealth accumulation by the most affluent of cor-
porations often lead to corporate criminal subculture formation.
Criminal subcultures are the main mechanism for constituting ille-
gitimate opportunities structures-knowledge on how to offend, social
support for offending or communication of rationa~ation~ for ~ffend­
ing, criminal role models, subcultural groups whIch aSSIst WIth the
avoidance of detection and which organize collective criminal enter-
prises. However, illegitimate opporhmities are greater in some societies
tl1an others for a variety of further reasons which are not incorporated
within the theory. While the effects of legitimate and illegitimate op-
portunities on crime are mostly mediated by participation in criminal
subcultures, the blocka.ge of legitimate opportunities combined with the
availability of illegitimate opportunities can independently increase
crime. Whether illegitimate opportunities to engage in crime are sup-
plied by participation in criminal subcultures or otherwise, they must be
opportunities that appeal to the tastes of tempted individuals for them
to result in crime.
This summary is crudely simple because it ignores what goes on
within the shaming box in Figure 44.1. That is, it ignores the treat-
ment. .. of the social processes that combine individual acts of shaming
into cultural processes of shaming which are more or less integrative:
gossip, media coverage of shaming incidents, children's stories, etc. In
turn, the summary has neglected how these macro processes of shaming
feed back to ensure that micro practices of shaming cover the curriculum
of crimes.
ECOLOGICAL FALLACIES?
In a theory which simultaneously provides an account of individual be-
havior and societal behavior, one can slip variables across from one level
of analvsis to the other. Thus. when testinl! thp thporv;:;t thp inclivirllli'll
 710 New Directions in Deviance Theory
level of analysis, one can code individuals according to whether they
live in large cities or whether they have been residentially mobile. That
is, the two societal variables at the top right of Figure 44.1 can be trans-
lated into individual-level variables.
Equally, an individual-level variable like 'age 15-25' can become a
societal variable-percentage of the population of the society aged
15-25. However, in making these shifts it is possible to perpetrate the
ecological fallacy-to assume glibly that what is true at the individual
level of analysis will be true at the societallevel. A society is more than
the sum of its individual parts. Thus, when a society accumulates un-
usually high numbers of young people, the behavior of older people
may change in response-they might vote for increased investment in
education or police juvenile aid bureaux, for example. There is some
evidence, for example, that while unemployment is a strong predictor of
individual criminality, societies with high unemployment rates do not
necessarily have high crime rates (Braithwaite, 1979; but see Chiricos,
1987). Gender is another variable which does not usefully shift from the
individual to the societallevel of analysis because societies do not vary
in the proportion of their population which is female.
Apart from these two, I can see no sound theoretical or empirical
reason why the variables in Figure 44.1 cannot move between both the
individual and societallevels of analysis.
CAPACITY OF THE THEORY TO EXPLAIN WHAT WE
KNOW ABOUT CRIME
[Previously I] set out consistently supported strong correlates of crime.
What is the capacity of the theory to explain these relationships? Some
indeterminacy arises over the different effects of reintegrative shaming
versus stigmatization. For example, what does the theory predict should
be the association between gender and crime? Figure 44.1 shows that
being female increases interdependency, which in turn fosters shaming.
If the extra shaming produced is reintegrative, being female is associat-
ed with low crime rates. However, if the extra shaming amounts to
stigmatization, higher crime rates become possible where subcultural
support is found for the outcast status.
To solve this problem we make a rather modest assumption. This
assumption, as argued earlier, is that in most societies criminal subcul-
tures are minority phenomena-narrowly diffused-so that stigmati-
zation will in only a minority of cases be followed by an opportunity to
participate in a subculture which is attractive to the individual. It follows
tilat the level of shaming should be unambiguously negatively related to
the crime rate because most shamine: will be either reintelITative sham-
44. John Braithwaite 711
ing, or stigmatic shaming which does not lead to subcultural attach-
ments, and both of these options will reduce crime. In any case, as is
clear from Figure 44.1, variables (like gender) which increase interde-
pendency have their effect on shaming partly through increasing com-
munitarianism, and shaming which is a product of communitarianism,
is most likely to be reintegrative. Interdependency both increases the
prospects of shaming and decreases the chances that such shaming as
occurs will be stigmatic.
Thus the characteristics associated with low interdependency-
being male, 15-25 years of age, unmarried, unemployed, and with low
educational and vocational aspirations-should all be associated with
high involvement in crime. Urbanization and high residential mobility
are also predicted by the theory as correlates of crime. It was concluded
[previously] that all of these characteristics are strong and consistent
correlates of crime.
In establishing the relationship between communitarianism and
crime, we rely far too heavily on qualitative evidence from Japan and
more doubtful qualitative evidence from a handful of other societies.
The association between interdependency as a characteristic of individ-
uals and crime, on the other hand, is well established. Control theory has
spawned impressive evidence that young people who are 'attached' to
their parents and to tlle school are less likely to engage in delinquency.
There is not such an impressive and unambiguous literature on 'at-
tachment' to neighbors and crime. The recent review of sixty-five stud-
ies of religiosity and deviance by TitHe and Welch (1983) suggests the
possibility, contrary to some conventional wisdom in criminology, that
interdependency via church affiliation may reduce crime. Tittle and
Welch (1983: 654) concluded that 'the evidence seems remarkably con-
sistent in suggesting that religion is related to deviant behavior. Indeed,
only a few variable in social science (possibly gender and age) have
proven to be better predictors of rule breaking' (see also Ellis, 1985).
Thus, through examining the corollaries of the theory we can ex-
plain most of all the well-established strong correlates of crime .... What
of the propositions we have not explained?
An account is given of [the relationships between educational/ oc-
cupational aspirations, school performance and crime] if we are willing
to assume that young people with low educational and occupational
aspirations and who do poorly at school are less attached to (interde-
pendent with) their school. The theory of reintegrative shaming pro-
vides an explanation for why unemployed people should engage in less
crime in terms of their loss of interdependency. Beyond unemployment,
lwinO"::It rhp hnHnm of thp dass structure means blocked lee:itimate 00-
 712 New Directions in Deviance TIleory 44. John Braithwaite 713

portunities and an increased likelihood of access to certain kinds of sub- primary deviance. Through shunting stigmatization away from other
cultures which supply illegitimate opportunities. forms of shaming (as that sort of shaming which triggers subcultural
The theory offers a convincing explanation of why crime rates have participation) we proffer a more promising approach to the explanation
been increasing in most Western societies since World War IT. The re- of secondary deviance in labeling and subcultural theory terms. We
cent development of Western societies has been associated with a de- achieve a more specified theory of differential association with conven-
cline of interdependency and communitarianism and a progressive tional others versus others who share i1 subculture. Conceived another
uncoupling of punishment and shaming. This has been a period when way, it is a theory of differential shaming. Most shaming is by conven-
urbanization, residential mobility, delayed marriage and marriage break- tional others on the anticriminal side of a tipping point. When stigmati-
down, and an explosion of the 15-25 age group have occurred in most zation produces secondary deviance, it is because the balance of shame
countries. has tipped; for those who share the subculture there is sufficient ap-
Finally, the proposition ... that young people who associate with proval for crime, sufficient shaming for going straight, to outweigh the
criminals are more likely to engage in crime themselves, approximates shaming of conventional society.
one of the propositions of the theory-that participating in a criminal
subculture leads to crime. Sharing a criminal subculture was argued
to be a route to crime partly because the subculture transmits qualifi-
cations or neutralizations to belief in the importance of complying with
the law. REFERENCES
In summary, the theory accounts for twelve of the thirteen best es-
tablished findings of criminology as corollaries of the theory and one Braithwaite, J. (1979) Illequality, Crime alld Public Policy, London: Routledge
as a postulate of the theory. and Kegan Paul.
Chlricos, T. G. (1987) 'Rates of Crime and Unemployment An Analysis of Ag-
gregate Research Evidence', Social Problems, 34, 187-212.
SHUNTING THE COLLIDING LOCOMOTIVES OF Cressey, D.R. (1960) 'Epidemiology and Individual Conduct A Case from
CRIMINOLOGICAL THEORY Criminology', Pacific Sociological REview, 3, 47-58.
Ellis,1. (1985) 'Religiosity and Criminality: Evidence and Explanations of
This sharp contrast with the inability of the existing dominant theories Complex Relationships', Sociological Perspectives, 28:501-20.
to explain much of what we know about crime is achieved, ironically,
through the addition of just one element-the partitioning of shaming- Tittle, CR., and Welch, M.R. (1983) 'Religiosity and Deviance: Toward a Con-
tingency Theory of Constraining Effects', Social Forces, 61,653-82.
as a shunt to connect these diverging theoretical tracks. Through putting
the old theoretical ingredients together in a new way, we can do better at Wagatsuma, H. and Rosett, A. (1986) "The Implications of Apology: Law and
accounting for the facts than can any of these traditions separately. Culture in Japan and the United States", Law and Society Review, 20, 461-98.
Moreover, we can do better compared with adding together their sepa-
rate (contradictory!) elements as partial explanations within an atheo-
retical multi-factor model.
The top left of Figure 44.1 incorporates the key variables of control
theory; the far right-opportunity theory; the middle and bottom right
- subcultural theory; the bottom, particularly the bottom left-learning
theory; the right side of the middle box-labeling theory. With one cru-
cial exception (reintegrative shaming), there is therefore no originality in
the elements of this theory, simply origioality of synthesis.
Through the effect.of interdependency in reducing crime, we can
capture the explanatory successes of control theory in accounting for
 Name Index

A Aubert, V, 213, 217

Abbott, Andrew, 359-60 Aumick, Alison L., 605, 624
Abbott, D. j., 225 Austin, Ray 1., 678
Adler, Freda, 520, 678, 688 Avirgan, Tany, 546
Adler, M. j., 262, 306
Adler, Morlimer ]., 312, 528 B
Adler, Patricia, 121, 691 Bachman, Jerald G., 107
Ageton, Suzanne S., 107, llD, 277, 678, Bacon, A. M., 21
686 Bacon, Sheldon D., 192
Ageton, Swan, 657 Bahr, Step hen J., 277
Akers, Ronald 1., 111, 121, 261, Bailey, Daniel E., 109
27o-71,336,46~470 Bain, Read, 94
Albonetti, Celesta, 659, 663 Baird, John S., 292
AlIen, Frands, 513, 526 Baker, Lester, 439
Allende, Salvador, 544, 545-46 Bakke, E. W., 157, 171
Ames, Louise 8., 412 Baldwin, John, 108
Amir, Menachem, 602, 679 Bales, Robert E, 192, 209
Anderson, Jack, 548 . Batint, Michael, 402, 408, 412, 414
Anderson, Nels, 73, 82, 173, 358 Ball, Frank C, 148
Anderson, Ronald, 53 Bandura, Albert, 270, 271, 279, 349,
Andrews, D. A, 283 359, 363, 365
Angleton, James, 544 Banton, Michael, 470
Antonovsicy, A, 568 Baran,PauJ, 505, 506
Appleby, LaWTence, 412 Barka, Ben, 545
Apter, Nathanial S., 412 Barry, Kathleen, 675
Aristotle, 238 Base, C, 657
Arlacchi, E, 226 Bass, Bernard M., 413
Armstwng, j. S., 213-14 Baumhart, R. c., 217
Arneklev, Bruce, 353 Baydar, Nazli, 355
Arp, Bill, 152 Beach, W. G., 93, 100
A ~t,...; .. C' .... . , 'T';_~"""'D t:7!:;
716 Name Index Name Index 717

Beck, Wendy L., 292 Block, Alan A, 530, 688 Burgess, Robert L., 261, 470 Choldin, Harvey M., 622
Beeker, Angela H., 292 Blurnberg, Abrahrun S., 470 Burke, Mary Jean, 265, 269-70 Chorover, Stephan, 565, 566, 575
Beeker, E., 578 Blurner, Herbert, 200, 209 Burkhard, Kathyrn Watterson, 684 Chrisman, Robert, 491
Beeker, Howard S., 121, 200, 207, 209, Blurnstein,AJ1red,335 Bursik, Robert j., jr., 107-8, 348, 353 Cicourel, Aaron v.,
415, 470, 528
315,326,328,354,377,390-97,415, Bodenhafer, W. B., 93, 98, 99, 103 Buseo, Jose, 542 Clairbome, Robert, 488, 489
416,420--21,424,425,427, 431, 435, Boggs, Sarah, 623 Bush, George, 539 Clark, Alexander L., 471
442,474,477-78,479,480,485, Bogoras, W., 21 Bush, Vannevar, 170 Clark, Eleanor, 173
486-87, 491, 495, 522-23, 524, 528, Bonger, W. A., 311, 519, 528, 602, 657, Clark, H. F., 146
529 658 C Clark, John P., 470
Beeker, Jay, 56 Bordua, David j., 108,469,470,487 Cabezas, Carlos, 542 Clark, Robert E., 292-95, 297-98, 300
Bell, Daniel, 186, 193, 521, 528 Borgnefesse (pirate), 532-33, 534 Cairns, Robert R, 359 Clarke, Alfred c., 476, 484, 487
Bell, Robert R., '179 Soma, 61 Carneron, Mary Owen, 423, 602 Clarke, Ronald V., 559-60, 631-46
Bern, Daryl, 356 Boskind-Whlte, Marlene, 435, 445 CampbeU, Anne, 637, 686, 690 Clausen, John A., 351, 364, 365, 412
Bern, Sandra, 675 Bossard, James H. S., 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, Cancion, Francesca, 32 Clayton, Richard R, 107
Bend, Ernil, 491 100-101,102,103,105 Canter, Rachelle J.,277 Cleaver, Eldridge, 478, 519
Bendix, Reinhard, 320, 327, 657 Bowers, W. J., 617 Caplan, N., 579 Clelland, Donald, 665
Benedict, Paul E., 414 Bm.vles, Samuel, 212, 502 Capone, AI, 155 Clinard, Marshal! B., 170, 210, 211,
Benjaminis, james, 412 Box, Steven, 211, 214, 216, 221, 222,
Cargill, Oscar, 169 215,216,217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 224,
Bennett, Trevof, 639, 641, 643 224,678,691 Carlen, Pat, 685, 690 225,284,430,47~481,483,48~492
Benson, Lee, 462 BradIey, D., 213 Carlson, R 0., 168 Clines, Thomas, 537, 539, 546
Bentham, Jeremy, 329-30 Bradshaw, C. M., 655
Carlyle, Thomas, 173 Cloward, Richard A., 129, 174-91,
Bentler, P. M., 107 Braithwaite, John, 211, 213, 215-16, Carmichael, Stokeley, 481 198, 199,200,203,208,209,261,271,
8equai, A., 228 220,221,224,225,227, 228, 358, 379,
Camegie, Andrew, 149, 155 277,284,326,335,503, 623-24, 655,
Berg, Irwin A., 413 562,657,702-13 Carson, W. G., 214, 221, 223, 526 691
Serger,471 Branch, C. H., 440 Carter, Jimmy, 544 Cobb, Michael j., 678
Bergrnan, Lars R., 350 Brandt, David, 368
Carter, Timothy, 665 Cochrane, D., 618, 619
Berk, R, 657 Bredemeier, Harry, 32
Cartwright, Desmond 5., 109, 121 Cocke, ErIe, jr., 537
Bernesser, Kevin J" 292 Brenner, Harvey, 617 Cartwright, S. W., 569 Cocozza, J. J., 580
Bemstein, Ilene Nagel, 682 Briar, Scott, 314, 324, 325, 326, 328,
Caspi, Avshalom, 349, 353, 355, 356, Coe, R M., 582
Betzner, Gary, 541 470 368 Cohen, Albert K., 30, 129-30, 183, 192,
Bevan, J. L., 148 BriU, Henry, 413 Castro, Fidel, 539, 547 193,195-209,252,260,261,271,272,
Biderman, Albert P., 687 Brissette, J., 216 Caudill, William, 414 277,281,284,323,324,326,327,328,
Bierce, Ambrose, 152-54, 169 Brittain, Arthur, 676 Cavan, R. S., 82 366,483,484,655
Billings, j osh, 152 Brockopp,61 Cavender, G., 222, 224 Cohen, David K., 502
Bingham, H. c., 20 Brody, E. B., 414, 435 Chaiken, Jan M., 632 Cohen, Jacqueline, 335
Birtchnell, 5. A, 438 Brook, judith S., 107 Chalfant, E, 580 Cohen, Lawrence, 413, 559, 602, 617,
Bishop, Cecil, 690 Broom, Leonard,209
Chambliss, William j., 209, 226, 423, 642
Bittner, Egon, 470 Brown, Claude, 346-47
453,469,527,528,529-56,602,663 Cohen, Morris, 254
Black, Donald, 658, 681 Browne, Angela, 686
Chamorro, AdoUo, 540, 541 Cohen, S., 529
Black, Edwin F., 537 Brownmiller, Susan, 679 Chaplin, Charlie, 161-62 Coker, Sian, 438
Blake, JudiU1 1 326 Bruch, Hilde, 439
01aprnan, Jane Roberts, 61, 679 Colbert, R j., 93, 96, 97,98,99,100,
Blake, Robert R, 413 Bryan, William Jennings, 459
Chassan, j. B., 413 102,103,104,105,106
Blandon, Jose, 542 Bryant, Clifton D., 3, 42-56, 60
Chemin, Kim, 440 Colby, William, 538
Blau, Zena S., 412 Buck, Pearl, 21
Chesney-Lind, Meda, 561, 673, 678, Coldwell, R. A., 56
Blauner, Robert, 508 Bucldey, WaIter, 32, 414
679,682,684,685,690 Coleman, j., 355, 357, 527
Blishen, 8., 665 Bullington, Bruce, 540
D •• ___ ~~ u .......... ,.~ 1AT ":;1'; '71'; R,) In,,:; Chllton, Roland j., 108, 686 Collier, Peter, 660
 718 Name Index Name Index 719

Colurnbus, Christopher, 531, 532 Davies, Mark, 355 Durbin, J., 618, 619 Ervin, E, 566
Colvin,l1ark,282,663,665,668 Davis, Allison, 172 Durkheim, EmiIe, 1-2,3,4-8,38, Esbensen, Finn-Aage, 66-67, 107-21
Comfort, A, 569 Davis, Angela, 519, 521, 528, 676, 680 127-30,131-41,145,168,174, Exner,311
Commons, M. L., 655 Davis, Fred, 418 175-77, 191, 192, 226, 281, 304, 314, Exquemling, A 0., 532
Conein, Lou, 547 Davis, Kingsley, 2, 9-22, 32, 106, 249, 322,325,326,328,375,451,602 Eysenck, Hans, 332, 336
Conklin, J., 221, 225 326 Durkin, Keith E, 3, 42-56
Conrad, Peter, 558-59, 563-96, 569, Davis, Stephen F., 245, 292 Duster, Tray, 570 F
573,577 DeBaryshe, Barbara D., 350 Dworkin, Andrea, 679 Fadallah, Hussem, 546
Conwell, C, 528 De Fleur, Melvin L., 470 Dynes, Russell R., 476, 484, 487 Fagan, Jeffrey, 108, 109
Conwell, Russell H., 148 Deitch, L., 634 Fairchild, H. P, 93, 94, 96, 100, 104,
Cook, Karen, 365 DeJong,Alien R, 438 E 105
Cook, Philip J., 642, 643 de la Croix, Robed, 534 Eaton, Mary, 674, 682, 690 Falk, Gerhard, 52
Cook, Robert M., 487, 488 Delgado, ).11. R, 566 Ebaugh, Helen Rose Fums, 368 Falk, James R., 435, 436
Cooley, C. H., 87, 89, 93, 98, 102 Denney, Reuel, 325 Edelman, M., 563 Fanon, Franz, 519
Corbett, Julian 5., 533 DentJer, Robert A, 30 Edison, Thomas, 43 Faris, Robert, 65,74-82,527
Cornish, Derek B., 559-60, 631-46 Denzin, Norman K, 220, 417 Edwards, Paul, 293 Famsworth, Margaret, 108, 657
Cos-Gayon,541 Depres, A., 21 Edwards, R., 212 Famsworth, P. R, 249
Costa, Frances M., 354, 358 Devine, Edward T., 93, 96, 104 Edwards, Susan M., 673 Farrington, David P, 340, 350, 356,
Costello, Cynthia, 664 Dewey, John, 384 Ehrenreich, R, 563, 572 682
Cottrell, Leonard 5., Jr., 209 Dexter, R c., 93, 104, 105 Ehrenreich, J., 563, 572 Farris, George, 537
Covington, Jeanette, 108 Dickens, Charles, 152, 169 Eichmann, Adolph, 578 Feeney, Floyd, 637
Cressey, Donald R., UI, 170, 194, 216, Dickson, W. J., 172 Eisenberger, Robert, 292 Fellman, Gordon, 492
218,234,237-39,244-48,259,260, Diekhoff, George, 292 Eisenstein, Zillah, 674, 675 Felson, Marcus, 559, 602, 616, 617, 642
261,264,266,268,269, 270, 276, 279, Diekhoff, George M., 292-95 Elder, Glen H., Jr., 349, 351, 355, 363, Ferdinand, Theodore N., 624
281,283,318-19,420-21,655,704, DiNlaggio, Paul, 368 365,366,368 Ferracutti, Franco, 284
706 Dinges, John, 546, 547 Eldridge, 5., 96, 98 Ferri,311
Crewdson, John M., 548 Dinitz, Simon, 107, 414, 476, 483, 484, Elliott, Delbert 5., 107, 110, lll, 277, Festinger, L., 172
Crile, George, 547 487 657,678 Fielding, Henry, 30
Crisp, A. H., 435, 436, 437, 438, 439, Dittmer, C. G., 93, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, Elliott, 11. A., 93, 95, 97, 98, 99, 100, Figlio, Robert, 335
444 102,103,104,105,106 101,102,103,104,105,106,107 Finkelhor, David, 679
Culien, F. T., 222, 224, 228, 272 Dobash, Russell, 679 Ellis, Albert, 413 Finley, Nancy J., 689
Curnming, Elaine, 412 Dodder, Richard A., 292 Ellis, H., 20 Firmey, H. c., 214
Curnming, John, 412 Dollard, John, 169, 170, 172 Ellis, L., 711 Firestone, Shulamith, 675
Curnrnings, L. D., 661 Domhoff, William G., 487 Ellwood, C. A., 93, 95, 98-100, 101, Fiske,l71
Donovan, John E., 110, 354, 358 102, 103, 104 Fitzgerald, R W., 678
o Dore, Ronald, 32 Empey, La11ar T., 283, 304-5, 342 Fitzpatrick, Joseph P, 325
da Gama, Vasco, 531 Douglas, Jack D., 476, 477, 481 Englehardt, H. T., Jr., 569 Fleisher, BeHon M., 602
Dahrendorf, R, 225 Dow, G. 5., 93 Ermis, Philip H., 617 Flexner,21
Daley, Richard, 488 Dow, Thomas E., Jr., 471 Erickson, Kai T., 414 Follett, 11. P, 93, 102, 103
Daly, Kathleen, 673, 679, 682, 685, 687, Drake, Francis, 533, 534 Erickson, M. C, 172 Folsom, J. K., 22
688,690,691 Dubin, Robert, 208, 209 Erickson, Maynard,283,335,667 Ford, James, 93
Daniels, A. K, 568 Duelley, Sandra, 678 Ericson, Richard, 523, 526, 528, 529 Foucault, Michel, 222, 498
Dannefer, Dale, 350, 365-66 Duetscher, Invin, 194 Erikson, Kai T., 2, 22-30, 120, 398, Fox, James A., 616
Danvin, Charles, 1 Dumas, Alexander, 249 412,415,428,46~491,S80 Fox, K. c., 437
Datesman, 5usan K, 678, 686 lJuncan, O. D., 665 ErmaIU1, M. D, 212, 220 Fox, Renee,571,592
David, Christian, 545 Dunham, H. Warren, 65, 74-82 Ernst, 11. L., 21 Fox, Richard G., 566
- _.
 720 Name Index Name Index 721

Frank, Stanley, 193 Gilligan, Carol, 688, 689 Greeley, Horace, 455 Hartz-Karp, Janette, 684
Frankford, Evelyn, 509 Gillin, j. L., 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99-100, Green, M., 215 Havighurst, R. J., 170, 172
Praser, C. Gerald, 491 101,102,103,104,105,106 Greenberg, David, 368, 663, 668 I-iawldns, Gordon, 509
Frazier, E. Franklin, 82 Gillis, A. R., 282, 560-61, 656-72, 678, Greenley, James R, 277 Hawkins, J. David, 277
Freedman, Estelle, 674, 684, 690 688 Greer, Gennaine, 679 Hawldns, Richard, 533
Freeman, H., 413 Gilmore, Gary, 591 Griffin, Brenda S., 269 Hawley, Amos, 598-99
Freeman, W., 566 Gilmore, H. R., 414 Griffin, Charles T., 269 Hayden, T., 487, 488
Freidson, E., 563, 564, 572 Gimbel, Cynthia, 365 Griliches, Z., 618, 619 Hayes, E. C, 93, 96, 104
French, Laurence, 684 Ginsberg, Irving j., 277 Griswold, A W., 168 Hayes, W. j., 101, 103
Freud, Sigmund, 142, 152, 167, 168-09, Gintis, Herbert, 502 Gross, Bertram M., 506 Hegel, G. W. E, 102
169 Giordano,Peggy, 678 Gross, E., 212, 216, 220, 224 Heidensohn,Frances,673,674,677
Freyerhem, Williarn, 681 Gittlin, Todd, 491 Grossmann, Samuel, 435 Heimer, Karen, 266, 269, 277
Frotrun, Erich, 169, 173 Glanvill, joseph, 168 Grover, Cathy A, 292 Heitgard, Janet 1., 108, 109
Fuller, Richard C, 469 Glascock, Jack, 61 Groves, W. Bryon, lOB, 109, 121, 282 HelIer, j., 526
Furman, Uncia J.,440 Glaser, Daniel, 261, 268, 270, 279, 280, Gmener, j. R., 93, 95, 96, 97, 105-6 Helmer, john, 498
Furth, Gregg, 51 283,422-23,597,702 Gruhl, john, 682 Hempel, Carl, 32
Glass, Albertj., 402, 407, 412, 414 Guerry, A. M., 598 Henderson, A. M., 260
G Glazer, Nathan, 192, 325 Gusfield, joseph R., 450, 454-62 Henry, A. E, 602
Cabor, Thomas, 632 Glueck, Eleanor, 340-41, 348, 351, Gussow, Z., 591 Henry, Andrew, 208
Galileo, 238 352,35~363,366,673 Heruy, Jules, 484
Garabedian, 526 Gluecl<, Sheldon, 268, 269, 340-41, 673 H Henslin, james M., 592
Garfinkel, Harold, 30 Goddard, j., 565 Hachen, David, 664 Hepbum, John R., 269, 277
Garfinkel, Paul E., 407, 414, 438 Goffman, Erving, 30, 209, 398, 407, Hagan, john, 282, 354, 368, 560-61, Herbener, Ellen 5., 368
Garner, David M., 438 412,414,418,443 656-72,65~661,663,678,688 Herbert, Charles c., 414
Garrarnone, Gina M., 53 Goldberg, Samuel, 617 Haight, Kathy, 46 Hermstein, Richard J., 332, 342, 348,
Garreau, Jeel, 50 Goldman, Nathan, 470 Haines, Herb, 562 560,646-56, 690
Carver, 481 Goldstein, Paul J., 107 Hames, Valerie j., 292-95, 297-98, 300 Hersh, Seyrnour, 545
Gates, Margaret, 679 Goode, Williarn J., 325 Hale, Chris, 678 Herzog, David B., 437
Gay, Mary, 527 Gora, Joann Gennaro, 678 Hall, G. M., 22 Hessler, R. M., 582
Gaynor, Paul, 544 Gordan, Linda, 690 Hall, Jerome, 251, 469, 527 Hill, Gary D., 686-87
Geis, G., 215, 218 Gordon, John E., 412 Hall, R. H., 213 Hill, Jonathan, 353
Gelies, Richard j., 679 Gordon, Linda, 679 HaIleck, S. L., 564, 567 Hindelang, Michael j., 110,335,605,
George, W. L., 21 Gordon, Margaret T., 679 Halrni, Katherine A., 435, 436 623,624,656,658,65~666,66~686
Gerth, H. H., 94 Gorz, Andre, 506 Hamilton, Charles v., 481 Hirschi, Travis, 236, 261, 262, 268,
Getschow, G, 217 Gosnell, Harold E, 171 R1.milton, G v., 20 272,277, 285, 304-5, 312-42, 343-44,
Ghorbanifar, Manucher, 540 Gottfredson, Michael R., 262, 285, Hand, Michael, 536-37, 538, 539 346,348,352,424,652,655,656,
Giancana,Sarn,556 304,329-42,348,352,363,367 Haruner, Jalna, 679 657-58,659, 666, 667, 668, 669
Gibbes, Jack P., 469 Gough, Harrison, 336 Hannan, Michael, 368 Hitler, A., 578
Gibbons, Don C, 222, 239, 243, 279, Gould, Leroy, 602, 603, 617 Hanson, Robert c., 110 Hobbes, Thomas, 326, 328
471,526,528 Gould, R., 172 Harding, Britta, 439 Hofstadter, Richard, 461, 462
Gibbs, jack E, 268, 415, 418, 471, 661, Goulden, joseph C, 544 Harper, E. B., 93, 98, 99, 103 Hollander, Nanci, 491, 518, 527
667 Gouldner, Alvin W., 427, 474, 475, Harries, K, 216 Hollingshead, August B., 412
Gibbs, John j., 637 478,486,524,529 Harris, AlIen c., 53 Holrnes, Oliver Wendell, 256
Giller, Henri, 341 Gramsci, 543 Harris, Anthony R, 656, 673, 6B7 Holmgreen, Dale, 537
Gillette, j. M., 93, 95, 96-97, 98, 100, Grasmick, Harold G, 348, 689 Harbnann, Heida, 675 Honey, Martha, 546
103 Graves, T. D., 110 Hartz, Louis, 462 Honlgmann, John j., 469
722 Name Index Name Index 723

Hooks, Bell, 676 janet, P., 171-72 Kinsey, R. J., 222, 227 LaPiere, Robert T., 249
Hoover, J. Edgar, 578 Jayarate, Toby Epstein, 677 Kirchheirner, Otto, 469, 470 LaRose, Robert T., 61
Homey, Karen, 169 Jeffery, Clarence R., 261, 469, 471, 602 Kirschenman, Joleen, 354 Lasswell, Harold D., 96, 169
Horowitz, David, 660 Jensen, Gary E, 269, 277, 667 K.issinger, Henry, 544 Laub, John H., 108,305, 34!Hi9, 686
Horowitz, Irving Louis, 470, 495, 523, jessor, Richard, 107, 110, 354, 356, 358, Kitsuse, John I., 469, 528 Lawless, Michael W., 632
529 366 Kittrie, Nicholas, 568, 569-70, 574, Lawn, john, 542
Horvitz, Robert, 62 Jessor, Shirley L., 107, 110 577,581,586,592 Lazerson, Marvin, 502
Hougan, Jim, 539, 544 Jobaris, Russell, 51 Kiapp, Grrin E., 412 Lea, j., 222, 227
Hough, j. M., 632 Johnson,Bruce, 107 Kieck, Gary, 666, 680 Lecky, 18-19
Houghton, Bernie, 537 Johnson, Craig L., 435, 438 Kiein, Dorie, 673, 677, 678, 679, 689 Lefkowitz, Monroe, 356
Houton, David M., 538 Johnson, Lyndon S., 544 Kiein,Lloyd,43,335,548 Lefton, M., 473, 478
Haward, John, 30 Johnson, Richard E., 277 Kling, Lloyd, 56 LeGolif, Louis, 533
Howard, Ken, 109 johnston, Lloyd D., 107 Klockars, Carl 8., 602 Leiber, Michael J.f 108
Howcs,S3! jnhnstone, John W. c., 108, 109, 121 Knowle5, J. H., 584 Leifer, R., 581
Huba, G. j., 107 Jonassen, c. T, 108 Kobrln, Francis E., 612 Leigh, L. H., 225
Hubbard, Elbert, 148 Jones, Elmer R., 148 Kobrin, Solomon, 108, 109, 120, 121, Lemert, Edwin M., 354, 376-78,
Huesmann, Rowell, 356 Jemes, Emest, 167 184-85,198,260,272 385-90,398,402,412,414,415,416,
Hughes, Everett c., 392-93, 397, 442, Jones, John Paul, 534 Kohlberg, Lawrence, 689 417,420,422,424,425-26,440,442,
491 joseph, Gloria I., 676, 680 K005, Earl L., 414 471,491,577
Huizinga, David, 66-67, 107-21, 277 Korn, Richard, 258, 261 Lennard,Henry, 575
Hull, john, 541, 546 K Komhauser, Ruth R, 109, 235-36, 261, Lentz, William P., 471
Humphries, Laurie 1., 434, 435, 439, Kalucy, R. 5., 439 262,272-78,284,350 Leonard,691
445 Kandel, Denise B., 107, 110, 280, 355 Kramer, R c., 222, 224 Lemer, Max, 98
Hurvitz, N., 564 Kane, Kevin M., 292 ICra5ka, Peter, 107 Lernoux, Permy, 547
Huxley, Aldous, 26, 30 Kanter, Rosabeth, 661 Kreitman, Norman, 635 Lesieur, H. R., 214
Kantrowitz, Barbara, 50 Kriseberg, H., 224, 527, 529 Lester, David, 61, 642
I Kaplan, Howard R, 107 Krohn, Marvin D., 268, 271, 277, 281 Letellier, Orlando, 546
llg, Frances L., 412 Kaplan, L., 634 Krout, John A., 462 Letkernann, Peter, 602
Illich, 1., 563 Kapsis, Robert E., 108 Kruger, Henrlk, 536, 539 Leung, Jan, 682
Inciardi, James A., 107 Kardiner, Abram, 161, 169, 173, 412, Kruttschnitt, Candace, 682 Levi, M., 214, 223
Inkeles, Alex, 170, 527 419 Kuhn, Thomas, 514, 526, 676 Lewin, Kurt, 172
Inauye, Daniel, 539 Karier, Clarence J., 502 Kulp, D., 20 Lewis, Diane, 678, 684, 686
Ivie, Rachel, 365 Katz, jack, 359 Kwitny, Jonathan, 538 Lewis, jill, 676
Kellam, Sheppard G., 413 Lewis, Linda D., 438
J Kellens, G., 224
Keller, Evelyn Fox, 676
L Lewis, Sinc1air, 71
jackal, R., 220 LaBeff, Emily E., 292-95 Liazos, Alexander, 451-52, 487, 495,
jacks,lrving, 414 Kellert, S. R., 580, 581 Lacey, Hubert J., 438, 439 529
Jackson, Bruce, 528, 602 Kelly, jonathan, 665 Lafitte, Jean, 534 Uberman, 5., 413
jackson, Elton F., 265, 269-70 Kennedy, John F., 544 Lafitte, Pierre, 534 Liebowitz, Martin, 470
Jackson, George, 478,491, 519 Kerbel, Sandra, 678 LaFree, 680 Lindesmith, Allied R, 192, 249, 250,
Jackson, Robert L., 45, 48, 49, 51 Kerry, john, 550 LaGrange, Randy L., 110 263,469
Jacobs, John, 548 Kessler, Ronald, 368 Lakatos, 1., 514, 526 Link, B. G., 224
jagger, 676 Keyes, Paul, 485 Land, Kenneth c., 616, 617, 618 Lipset, Seymour M., 320, 327
jahoda, M., 174 Khashoggi, Adman, 540 Landau, Saul, 546, 547 Llazos, Alexander, 472-94
james, N. McL, 437 Kkk, Edward, 682 Lander, Bemard, 108 Loeb, M. B., 170
james, William, 73, 173, 316, 326 Kiesler, Sara, 53 Lane-Poole, 531 Loeber, Roll, 350, 351
 724 Name Index
Lohman, joseph D., 170
Lombroso, Cesare, 311
Long, 155
Lorber, Judith, 471
Larde, 676
Lottier, S., 251
Lowe, C. E, 655
Lowery, Sharon A., 53
Luckenbill, David E, 279
Luckmann, 471
Lukoff, frYing E, 107
Lunden, WaIter, 660
Lundman, R. J./ 212
Luxenburg, Joan, 43
Lyman, 5., 578
Lynd, H. M., 174
Lynd, Robert, 174, 524, 529
Lystad, Mary, 624
M Maynard,Mary, 676
Maakestad, w. J., 222,224
MacIntyre, Donald, 534
MacKinnon, Catilerine A, 673, 676,
679
Mac Lean, Malcohn S., 168
Magnusson, David, 350, 359
Maguire, Mike, 641
Maher, j., 634
Mainwaring, Henry, 531
Malcolm X, 478, 519
Malzberg, Benjamin, 413
Mandel, Emest, 505
Mangold, G. B., 93, 94, 99
Mankoff, Milton, 378-79, 415-30
Mann, Corarnae Richey, 674, 686
Mann, John H., 413
Mannhelm, K., 96, 98, 103
Manor, Ray, 537
Mansfield, Roger, 602, 617
Manson, Charles, 578
Marcos, Anastasios C, 277
Marcos,Ferdinand,538
Marcuse, Herbert, 506
Marden, Orison Swett, 148, 155
Mark, V:, 566
Marko!!, john, 46, 48
Marolla, Joseph, 284
Martin, Del, 679
Martin, John Bower, 602
Martin, John M., 325
Martin, Steven 5., 107
Marx, Karl, 451, 499, 501, 505, 510,
519,543,663
Marzotto, 529
Massey, James L., 271
Matek, Ord, 47, 61
Matsueda, Ross 1., 235-36, 261-83
Matza, David, 2, 3, 219, 235, 237,
251-60,26~276,283,284,292-301,
317, 318-19, 324, 327, 390--91, 425,
474,477,479,487, 489, 491, 496, 529,
655,660
Maurer, David W., 193, 602
May, G.,21
Mayhew, Patricia M., 632, 635
Mayo, Elton, 168
McAdam, Doug, 351, 368
McCabe, Donald 1., 237, 292-301
McCaghy, Charles H., 224, 473, 478
McCord, James, 327, 340, 341, 544
McCord, Joan, 325, 327
McCord, William, 325
McCorkle, Lloyd W, 258, 261
McCormick, John W, 53
McCoy, Alfred W., 535, 536
McDermott, M. Joan, 686
McDonald, WaIter, 537
McGill, V. j., 174
McGinniss, Joe, 484
McGregor, Loretta N., 292
McGuire, TImothy W, 53
McLntosh, Mary, 226,508
Mclntyre,jenrrie, 471
McKay, Henry D., 82, 108, 109, 120,
174,182-83,191,198,263,284,598
McKenzie, Roderick D., 65
McKinley, William, 148
McKnight, john, 579
McLorg, Penelope A, 379, 434-48
McMurtrie, D. C, 21
Mead, George Herbert, 61, 101-2,
Name Index 725
Mead, Margaret, 171 Muslo, David E, 498
Mechanic, David, 414, 564, 583-84 Myers, David, 53
Meier, Robert, 452-53, 513-29 Myers, Earl D., 384
Melicl<, M .E., 580 Mylonas, Anastassios D., 471
Menard, Scott, 107, 110, 125
Menezes,61 N
Menninger, W. C, 568 Nadler,61
Mercer, Jane R., 469 Naffine, Ngaire, 674,688
Merrill, E E., 93, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, Nagel, Emest, 32
102,103,104,105,106 Nagel, Lr 682
Merton, Robert, 28, 32, 127-30, Nagel, S., 682
142-74,175-78,187-91,192,194, Nagin, Daniel, 348, 349, 352, 353, 357,
195-201,204-5,208,209,210-11, 367
212,213,221,222,225-26,271,281, Namenwirth, J. Zvi, 602, 617
328,431,521-22,528 Nasby, Petroleum Volcano (later
Meyers, Gustavus, 171 Vesuvius),152
Michael, Jerome, 312, 520, 528 Natalizaia, Elena, 678
Michaels, James W., 262, 292, 306 Neckerman, Kathryn, 354
Miethe, Terance, 292 Neiderhoffer, Arthur, 470
:Miles, Maria, 677 Nelson, S. D., 579
Miller, Eleanor M., 678, 686, 689, 690 Nettler, Gwynn, 623
Miller, H. A, 93, 96, 97 Neustadter, Roger, 53
Miller, K. 5.,564 Newfield, Jack, 482-83
Miller, W. B., 655 Newman, Oscar, 602
Mills, C. Wright, 65-66, 83-106, 249, Nicolaus, M., 427
472,524,529,578 Nietzsche, 163
Mills, Theodore M., 209 Nihill, Grant, 537
Minuchin, Salvador, 439 Nimrodi, Yaacov, 540
Mischel, W., 655 Nisbet, Robert A, 209, 328, 427, 528
Mitchell, juliet, 675 Nixon, Richard, 484, 544, 578
Moffitt, Terrie E., 349, 353, 356 Norris, Terry D., 292
Mohr, john, 368 North, Oliver, 539, 541, 542
Money, John, 51 Noyes, A. P., 248
Moore, Melinda, 108 Nugan, Frank, 536-37, 538
Moore, Wllbert, 32 Nunnally, jum c., jr., 406, 413
Morales, George, 541 Nye, F. lvan, 314, 326
Morales, Ricardo, 547
Morris, Allison, 682 o
Morris, NorvaIr 509 Oakley, Ann, 674, 675
Mossadegh, Mohammed, 545 O'Connor, James, 506, 509
Mouton, Jane 5., 413 Odegard, Peter, 462
Moyer, lmogene 1., 679, 681 Odum, Howard W., 60, 93, 103, 106
Moynihan, Daniel, 546 Ogbum, William E, 43, 60, 103
Mukherjee, S. K., 678 Ohlin, L10yd E., 193, 194, 261, 271,
Mullins, 676, 687 277, 284, 326, 335, 623-24, 655
Murray, Gilbert, 156, 17], 172-73 Ohlin, Richard E., 198, 199, 203, 209
. "•• ___ • U A 1£:O 1'7.1 rYII..{"l1",,, P"I-ri ...1-l\,f ln7
726 Name Index Name Index 727

Orcutt, G. H., 618, 619 Piliavin, Irving, 314, 324, 325, 326, Redlich, Frederick c., 412, 414, 580, Rosten, Leo c., 168
Oreutt, James D., 269, 283 328,415,470 581 Rotenberg, M., 591
Onvell, George, 222, 257, 261 Piper, Elizabeth, 108 Reichenbach, Hans, 95 Roth, Jeffery, 335
Osmond, H., 571 Pitts, Jesse, 569, 572, 573, 591 Reinhardt, J. M., 93, 95, 96-97, 98, 100, Rothenberg, M., 676
Ovesey, Lionel, 419 riven, Frances Fox, 503, 691 103 Rourke, Jack, 485
Owen, John, 539 Plant, James 5., 167 Reinhartz, Shulamit, 677 Rowe,Alan, 292
Owen, Robert, 541, 546 Platt, 526, 529 Reis5, AlbertJ., Jr., 268, 314, 326, 397, Rubington, Earl, 472, 479, 487, 490
PIa tt, Anthony, 284 470,598,602,687 Ruch, F. L., 249
p Platt, S., 635 Reppetto, Thomas, 601, 602, 632 Rude, George, 492
Pagelow, Mildred, 680 Plenska, Danuta, 678 Reynolds, Janice, 575, 592 Rusche, George, 469, 470
Palloni, Alberto, 354 Plunkett, Richard J., 401, 412 Reynolds, Larry T., 592 Rushing, William A, 481
Palmer, MichaeI, 542 Polanzi, C. W., 224 Reza Shah Pahlevi, 545 Russell, Diana E., 435, 439
Panciina, Robert J., 110 Pope, Carl E., 601 Rhodes, Lewis, 268 Rutter, Michael, 341, 351, 353, 355,
Parenti, WchaeI- 548 Potter, Gary W., 540 RJchards, Pamela, 688 357,365
Park, Robert E., 65, 71-74, 82,106,263 Pound, Roscoe, 469 Richards, T. W., 249 Ryan, William, 576
Parrnelee, Mauriee, 93 Price, G. v., 97 Richmond, M. E., 86, 97 Ryder, Norman, 366
Parsons, Talcott, 3D, 32, 200, 204, 209, Printz, Adolph M., 435 Riemer, Svend, 251
260,261,326,328,419,427,431,563, Pryor, Richard, 680 Riesrnan, David, 325, 460 S
564,571,574 Riger, Stephanie, 679 Sadow, Leo, 413
Pasamanick, Benjamin, 401-2, 412 Q Rimlinger, Gaston V, 507, 510 Sagi, Phillip c., 616--17, 624
Passas, Nikos, 130, 210-26, 211, 226, Qaddafi, Muamrnar, 547-48, 578 Ritchie, Robert c.,532 Sampson, RobertJ., 108, 109, 121, 282,
228 Queen, S. A, 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 103, Ritenbaugh, Cheryl, 438 305,348-69
Pastora, Eden, 546 lD5-6 Robbins, Cynthia, 107 Sanday, Peggy Reeves, 680
Pateman, Carol, 675 Quetelet, Adolphe, 598 Robins, Lee, 21, 336,337-38 Sapir, Edward, 167
Paternoster, Raymond, 348 Quinn, Olive W., 474 Robinson, Robert, 665 Saunders, Lyle, 414
Patterson, Gerald R., 350 Quinney, Richard, lD8, 210, 430, 451, Roethlisberger, F. J., 172 Scarpitti, Frank R, 678
Pauly, John, 663, 665, 668 462-71,527, 663 RogeTs, EvereH M., 471 Scarr, Harry A, 601, 602, 607
Pearce, F., 221, 222 Quintero, Rafael "Chi Chi," 546, 556 Rogosa, David, 368 Schachter, Stanley, 413
Pearson, Frank S., 277, 278 Quinton, David, 353 Rojeck, Dean, 335 Scheff, Thomas j., 377-78, 397-411,
Perrone, Luca, 663, 664, 665 Roman, Paul, 591 414,415,416,420,424,425,426,577
Perry, Anthony R., 292 R Roncek, Dennis W., 622 Scheler, Max, 163, 174
Peters, T. J., 212 Rachlin, H., 655 Rooney, Elizabeth A, 471 Schelling, Thomas, 503, 509
Petersilia, 335 Radosevich, Marcia, 270-71, 277 Rose, Amold M., 209 Scherer, F. M., 214
Peterson, Robert, 538 Radzinowicz, L., 306 Rose, Thomas, 481, 487 Schiesskopf,526
Petras, James, 530 Rafaeli, Shalzaf, 53 Roselli, John, 556 Schlesier-Stropp, Barbara, 437
Petrashek, D., 216 Rafier, Nicole Hahn, 678, 684, 690 Rosen, G., 565 Schlossman, Steven, 682
PeHee, George 5., 174 FCunsey, Elizabeth, 350 Rosenbaum, James, 365 Schneider, Joseph W., 558--59, 563--96
Pfau-Vincent, Bettye A., 107 Ranulf, Svend, 174, 196-97, 208 Rosenberg, Debra, 50 Sclmeider, Rene, 546
Pfohl, S. J., 567 Rasche, Cluistine, 684,691 Rosenfeld, Rachel A, 365 Schnurer, 326
Pfuh!, Erdwin H., Jr., 56 Rattikone, Ouane, 536 Rosenquist, C. M., 96, 100, 103 SclU"ager, L. 5., 210
Phelps, H. A, 93 Ray, Marsh, 395, 397 Rosenwald, Julius, 157 Schuerman, Leo A., 108, 109, 120, 121
Phillips, Anne, 690 Reagan, Ronald, 539, 540, 546, 547 Rosenzweig, 5., 169 Schuessler, Karl, 192
Phillips, Derek, 591 Reckless, WaIter C., 303-4, 306-12, Rosett, A, 706-7 Schulz, Barbara, 682
Piaget, Jean, 321-22, 328 471 Rosman, Bernice L., 439 Schur,Ed>vin,420,435,438,442,444
ricHes, Andrew, 351 Redden, Elizabeth, 250 Ross, E. A., 101 Schwartz, Donald M., 435, 438
Pierce, Glen L. t 617 Redl, Fritz, 253, 259, 261, 307, 312 Rossi, Peter H., 170, 657 Schwartz, Estelle, 435, 436
 728 Name Index Name Index 729

Schwartz, John, 49 Slinpson,john,282,560-61,656-72, Staw, B. M., 215 T

Schwartz, Joseph E., 108, 110 678,688 Steadman, H. J., 580 Tarnosaitis, Nancy, 47
Schwendinger, Herman, 120, 121, Slinpson, Sally S., 561--62, 67:3--701 Steffensmeier, Darrell J., 656, 678, Tandy, Jearmette, 169
284,520,527,528,530,552 Sinclair, Andrew, 470 687 Tannenbaurnn,Frank,192,203,20~
Schwendinger, Julia, 120, 121, 284, Singer, Jerome E., 413 Steinmetz, Suzanne K, 679 376,380-84,415,471
520,527,528,530,552 Skirmer, B. E, 270, 566 Stem, B. j., 103 Tappan,Paul,521,528
Scull, A, 580 Skinner, William E, 271 Stern, W., 174 Tarde, 311
Scully, Diana, 284 Skipper, j. K., 473, 478 Stevenson, Keith, 632 Tarling, Roger, 356
Seal, Barry, 540 Sklare, Marshall, 326 Stinchcombe, Arthur 1., 212-13, 315, Taub, Diane E., 379, 434-48
Seale, Bobby, 519 Skogan, Wesley G., 623 326,470 Tawney, 168
Secombe, Wally, 509 Skolnick, Jerome H., 192, 470 Stockwell, John, 541 Taylor, Ian, 450-51, 453, 526, 528,
Secord, Richard, 539, 546 Small, A. W., 94 Stoeckle, J., 564 663
Seidman, Robert R, 543, 549, 663 Smart, A., 226 Stolt Clarice, 587 Taylor, Ralph B., 108
Sellin, Thorsten, 264, 335, 469, 520, Smart, Carol, 673, 674, 677, 678, 684, Stonequist, Everett, 82 Theander 70, 439
528 685,689 Stouffer, Samuel A, 217, 258, 261 111eil,Henli,618
Selvin, Hanan, 424 Smelser, Neil J., 198, 208, 527 Stollthamer-Loeber, Magda, 350, 356 Thomas, Jo, 548
Selvini-Palazzoli,439 Smith, AI, 459 Straus, Murray A, 679 Thomas, William I., 64--65, 67-70, 72,
Shackley, Theodore S., 537, 538, 539, Smith, Douglas, 657, 666, 681 Strauss, A. 1., 250 74,86,263
546,556 Smith, R. A., 214 Strodtberk, Fred L., 280, 365, 602 Thompson, E., 526
Shank, Dolores M., 292 Smith, Ruth E., 53 Stryker, Sheldon, 279 Thompson, Hunter 5., 481
Shannon, r. V., 93, 101, 103 Smith, Spencer, 538 Stuckey, Marilyn K, 438 Thompson, .Michael G., 435, 438
Sharkey, Jacqueline, 542 Smith, T. V., 89 Sturman, Andrew, 632 Thomberry, Terrence, 277, 350, 657
Shaw, Clifford R., 81-82, 108, 109, 120, Snare, 529 Sudnow, David, 470 Thorne, Barrie, 674,677,690,691
174,182-83,191,192,198,263,284, Snitow, Ann, 509 Suillvan, H. S., 171 Thomer, Isidor T., 192
384,598 Socrates, 7 Sullivan, Mercer, 358 Thrasher, F, 260
Sheldon, W. H., 348 Solomon, Philip, 412 Sumner, 71, 99 TIedemann, K, 221, 223
Shibutani, Tomatsu, 279, 410, 414 Sontag,Susan,578-7~591 Sllslick, Alvin, 413 TIlly, Charles, 530
Shils, Edward A., 261 Sorenson, J., 567 Sutherland, Edwin H., 111, 121, 129, TIttle, Charles K, 265, 269-70, 279,
Short, james F., jr., 208, 210, 268, 271, Sorokin, Pitirlin A, 94, 95, 96, 171, 154,169-70,174,179-81,183,191, 292, 348, 353, 354, 657, 666, 688,
277, 280, 284, 323, 324, 359, 602 173,520,660 192,193,198,218,220,225,233-34, 711
Shover, Neal, 280, 284, 351 Spaulding, John A., 191, 325 235,236,237-39,249,251,255, 260, Tobias, j. j., 603
Shuval, j. T., 568 Spehnan, Elizabeth A, 687 261,262,263,264-76,283,284,311, Toby, jackson, 217, 258, 261, 326
Siegel, Jane, 53 Spencer, J. c., 213 470,519,520-21,528,602,655 Toffler, 488-89
( Sigler, M., 571 Spicker, Paul T., 292 Sutton, Paul, 605, 624 Tomes, Nancy, 679-80
lir: Silberman, Mathew, 280 Spiegel, H., 412 Suval, Elizabeth M., 686-87 Tracy, G. S., 591
I' Silk, L., 220 Spitzer, Leo, 168 Sweezy, Paul M., 505, 506 Trafficante, Santa, Jr., 556
Sills, D., 591 Spitzer, Steven, 451, 452, 495-512, Sykes, Gresham M., 30, 219, 235, 237, Tremblay, Pierre, 642, 643
Silver, A, 487 663,665,668 251--60,269,276,283,284,292-301, Trice, Harrison, 591
Slincha-Fagan,CJra, 108,109-10, 121 Spohn, Cassia, 682 317,318-19,327, 390-91, 514, 515, Truth, Sojourner, 676
Simmer, George, 174 Sprague, joey, 664 526,527,660 Tryon, Robert c., 109, 121
SUnmons, j. L., 477, 479, 485, 486, 489, Spring, j oel, 502 Szabadi, E., 655 Tuma, N ancy, 368
490 Starey, judith, 674, 677, 690, 691 Szalai, Alexander, 605, 624 Tumin, Melvin, 3, 30--42, 427, 434
Simon, Alexander, 414 Stanfield, Robert E., 268 Szasz, A., 223, 226,398,403--4,412 Turk, Austin T., 469, 470, 509, 527
Slinon, H. A, 214 Stangler, Ronnie 5., 435, 444 Szasz, Thomas 5., 412, 475, 486, 564, Turner, K, 418, 434
Slinon, Rita, 656, 678, 691 Stanko, Elizabeth A, 679 568,569-70,578,581 Turner, Stansfield, 544-45
Simpson, George, 191, 325 Stark, Rodney, 108 Szwajkowski, E., 215 Twaddle, A C, 582
 730 Name Index
U Weinberg, M. S., 472, 479, 487, 490
Ullman, Albert D., 194
V Weinberger, Caspar, 539-40
Vaillant, George, 364, 366
Van den Haag, E., 526
Vander Zanden, James W., 53
Van Gelder, Lindsey, 50
Vasquez, Jarge Ochoa, 541-42
Vaughan, E., 211, 212,214, 215, 220
Veatch, Robert, 587
Veblen, Thorstein, 151, 317, 460
Verill, A Hyatt, 534
Vesco, Robert, 545
Vietorisz, Thomas, 498
Villernez, Wayne, 657,. 666
Visher, ehristy, 335, 681
Vogel, D., 220
Vogenfanger, Martin, 491
Void, George B., 469, 470
Van Hentig, 311
Voss, Harwin L., 268, 270
W White, Helene Raskin, 110
Wagatsuma, H., 706-7
Waite, E., 657
Waitzkin, Howard, 564, 568, 591
Walder, Leopold, 356
Waldfogel, Joel, 353
Walker, E. E., 93, 100, 527
Wallach, Stephanie, 682
Waller,101
Wallerstein, James 5., 170
Walters, Grant, 538
Walton, Paul, 450-51, 453, 526, 528,
663
Ward, Artemus, 152
Ward, David, 292
Warner, Robert A., 170, 171
Warner, W. Lloyd, 170, 409, 414
Washnis, George J., 602
Waterman, Barbara, 568, 591
Waterman, R. H., Jr., 212
Watson-Munro, T., 56
Weatherly, U. G., 93, 104
Webb, Jim, 108
TAT.'- • __
Name Index 731
Wish, Eric, 107 Yates, Earl E, 537
Weinberg, S. Kirson, 261, 270, 279 Wolff, K., 578 Yeager, P. c., 215, 216, 218
Weinberg, Thomas 5., 52 Wolfgang, Marvin E., 284, 335, 481, Young, Donald, 170, 528
602 Young, Jock, 222, 227, 450-51, 453,
Weiner, Neil Alan, 277 Wood, Arthur Lewis, 470 526,528,663
Weinstein, D., 634 Wood, Pamela, 679 Young, K., 249
Weis, joseph G., 110, 277, 335, 656, Woodard, J. w., 103 Young, T., 223, 224
658,666,669 Woodworth, R. 5., 248 Young, Vemetta D., 686
Weiss, Joseph, 659 Wootton, Barbara, 313, 325, 570
Weitzman, Ilene H., 682 Wright, Erik Olin, 658, 663, 664, 665 Z
Welch, M. R., 711 Wright, Richard, 641, 643 Zaretsky, Eli, 509
Welch, Susan, 682 Wrobel, Sylvia, 434 Zavala, Julio, 542
Wellford, Charles E., 616-17, 624 Wrong, Dennis, 32 Zietz, Dorothy, 687
Wellman, David, 676 Wyle, Clement, 170 Zimowski, lvlichele, 368
Wells, F. L., 173 Zipf, George K., 643
Wessells, lvlichael, 53 y Znaniecki, Florian, 64-65, 67-70, 263
West, Donald, 340, 341 Yamaguchi, Kazuo, 280 Zola, Irving, 563, 569, 574, 584
West, Patricia 5.,174 Yap, P. M., 414 Zorbaugh, H. W., 82, 173
Westelmarck, E., 20 Yarrow, Marian R., 412 Zuckerman, S., 9, 10, 20
Westley, William A., 470
Wetli, Charles v., 53
Wheeler, Stanton, 659
White, Garland E, 681
Whitehead,A N., 168
Whiteman, Martin, 107
Whitten, Lee, 548
Whyte, William E, 170, 183-84,
185-86,193,225
Wiegert, H. Thomas, 434
Wilkens, Leslie T., 642
Willde, R, 213
Wilkinson, Paul, 632
Wilks, Judith A, 602
Willi, Jurg, 435
Williams, Robin, Jr., 255, 260
Williamson, Henry, 602
Wilson, Edwin E, 538
Wuson, Everett K., 326
Wilson, James Q., 227, 332, 342, 348,
367,470,526,560,646-56,678,690
Wilson, Nand Koser, 679, 680, 684
Wilson, Wtlliam Julius, 366
Wineman, David, 261, 312
Wmgard, Joseph A, 107
Winter, Ella, 16
l"T;_~h T ~ •• :~ 0'1 '1£:,1
 Subject Index
A institutional nonns in, 143-49
Abolition, 458
Abortion, 486
Abstinence
doctrines of, 458
as symbol of middle-class mem-
bership, 457
Abstract generalizations, 275
Abstraction, logical, 237-38, 263, 275
Achieved rule-breaking, 417, 419-23,
429
Adjustment, 92-93
Adultery, 38
Affirmative action, 675
Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), 568-69
Alcoholism, 189, 190
disease model of, 568, 570, 581
and drunken driving, 636-37
theories of, 387
Alternate behaviors, presence or ab-
sence of, 267
American Qvil Liberties Union, 548
Analytic induction, 263
Anomic suicide, 140
AnornJe, 108, 127-232,233
and conionnity, 150-51
and corporate deviance, 210-26
cultural goals in, 143-49
and deviant behaviDr, 174-91
ind!:idual ~~aptation in, 150-64
and rebellion, 162-64
requisite conditions fOf, 128-29
and retreatism, 160-62
and ritualism, 158-60
role of family in, 165-66
and social structure, 142-74
strain toward, 164-65
Anomie theory, 449
and assumption of discontinuity,
199-200
and deviance and social identity,
205-8
of deviant behavior, 195-99
and responses to deviance,
200-205
Anorexia nervosa, 434-48
etlmographic study of, 379-80
Anticipatory fears, 388
Anticipatory socialization, 205-6
AntiHSaloon League, 459
Antisocial behavior, 337
continuity and change in, 349
and human nature, 305
Antiwar movements, 475, 548
Apostolic function, 408
Appeal to higher loyalties, 299-300
Arms smuggling, 539-43
Arsonists, 651
Aryan Brotherhood Youth Move-
___ '- en t:1
734 Subject Index
Ascriptive rule-breaking, 417-19, 429
Assassinations, 453
Assimilative reform, 458
Attachment, 313-14
as barriers to delinquency, 346
and belief, 321-22
and commihnent, 320-21
Automobiles, 72
B Capitalism, 498
BANISH (Bulirnicsl Anorexics In
SeU-Help), 436-37, 443
Bay of Pigs invasion, 544
Behavior. See also Criminal behavior
antisocial, 305, 337, 349
collective, 198
delinquent, 305, 380-84, 656-72
development of problem, and
changes in, 498
individual and social systems of,
403-6
presence or absence of alternate,
267
Behaviorism, 566
Behavior modifications, 566
Beliefs, 317-19
and attachment, 321-22
and neutralization,3IB
and rationalizations, 318
Biological impulse, 142
Biological model, 1
Black markets, 202
Black Muslims, 478
Blue Cross and Blue Shield, 582 .
Boland amendment, 539
Bond theory, 304
Bone-pointing magic, 404, 409
Bootlegging, 16
Boundaries, 25
communities as normative, 2
description of system as maintain-
ing,23
Boys' clubs, 74
Boy Scouts, 74
Broad generalization, 488-
Bulimia, 434-48
Subject Index 735
Bulimics/ Anorexics In Self-Help and cultural transmission, 198 as barriers to delinquency, 346
(BANISH), 436-37, 443 and differential association, 198, and involvement, 321
Bureaucracy, 212-13 235-36,263-64 Commihnent ceremonies, 27-28
Business establishments, trends in, distinctive features of, 63 Communitarianism, 706
614 emergence of, 63 Communi ties
and new criminology, 519-21 definition of an individual, 376
C pragmatic philosophy of, 265 and deviance, 23-25
California's Proposition 13 taxpayer social ecology tradition of, 108 normative boundaries of, 2
revolt, 585 Otildhood, importance of, and self- social relations in, 71
control,348 Community structure
corporate, 502 Child-rearing and drug use, 66-67, 107-21
and corporate deviance, 211-12 ineffective, 304 temporal components of, 598-99
emergence at 281-82 and self-control, 340--41 Compulsory education, 502
and generation of problem popula- Choice-structuring properties Computer
tions,452 concept of, 633-36 and cyberspace and deviant infor-
Marxist theories of class structure of crimes, 636--40 mation, 44-53
under, 281--82 and offender perceptions, 640--43 and sexual deviancy, 47-53
production of deviance in, 499-505 Circularity, 28 and social behavior, 55-56
and prostitution, 14-16 Circular zones, natural areas depict- Computer sex, 3
rise of, 487-88 ed as, 75--82 prognOSiS for research, 56-57
state, and new forms of control, City, natural areas of, 65, 74-82 Concubinage, 11,12
506-9 Civil rights organizations, 548 Condemners, condemnation of, 295,
welfare-state, 452 Civil rights protesters, 475 298
Career development model of de- Class, neo-Marxian measure of, as technique in neutralization, 258
viant behavior, 376 663-65 Conflict, 490
Career deviance, 390-97 Class conflict, 450-51 Coniorrrilty,303,449
Causation, 332 Class differentials in gaining access and types of individual adapta-
Causes to illegitimate means, 186-87 tion, 150-64
distinction between symptoms Classical theory, 331, 558 Conscience, concept of, 332
and,41 Class issues, 454 Conscientious objector, 478
effective, 387 Class structure Containment, 508
original, 387 of delinquency, 656-72 components of external and inter-
CB radio, 43 of gender, 656-72 nal. 306-7
Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), Climate of opinion, 168 external, 307
53~541,543,544-45,548 Closure, 357 internal,307
Change Coercive reform, 458-59 Containment theory, 303-4, 306-12
along continuum, 357 COINTELPRO, 548 advantages in use, 310
definition of, 356 Collective behavior, 198 and probability, 307-9
importance of, in study of crime, Collective order, 175-76 Contras, 539
348-69 Collective sentiments and crime,S, Control, state capitalism and new
person-based, life-history ap- 6,7 forms of, 506-9
proachto, 359-64 College students, cheating among, Control system, development and
Chastity, premarital, 11 292-301 operation of, 498
Cheating among college students, Calor, women of, 676 Control theory, 303-74, 449, 653-54,
292-301 Commercial prostitution, 13-14 702-3
Chicago "police riot" (1968),488 Commitment, 314-16 of delinquency, 312-29
,-,I..; ___ ~ ~~1..~~1 il~'J ~1'J ~1'7 , 1 • r " ••
736 Subject Index
and low self-control, 329-42
Conventional and deviant behavior, 1
Conversion, 508
Corporate capitalism, 502
Corporate deviance
and anomie, 210-26
and capitalism, 211-12
definition of, 210
Courtship, 12
Covariance structure analysis, 269
Covert institutional violence, 452,
473,482
Credibility, hierarchy of, 495
Crime-control policy and rational
choice theory, 643-44
Crime displacement, 631-46
rational choice perspective on,
631-32
Crime rates
as expression of normative con-
flict, 265-66
and family activities, 607-11
rela tionship of household activity
ratio to, 616-21
temporal changes in, 267
trends in, 4, 8
and social change, 596-630
Crimes, 33, 129,472. See also State-
organized crime
as choice, 648-50
choice-structuring properties of,
636-40
and collective sentiments,S, 6, 7
connection between impulsiveness
and,651
containment theory of, 306-12
definition of, 5, 463
as dysfunctional, 3
elite, 687-88
as eufunctions, 3
functional theory of, 4-8
importance of change in study of,
348-69
and lack of self-control, 304
meaning of, in new crirrtiTtology,
515-16
motivation to, 323-25
multiple-factor approach to,
262-63
normality of, 5
official records of,521-22
as phenomenon of nonnal sociolo-
gy,8
as political behavior, 464
predatory, 559, 703
presence of, in all societies, 4, 5
and prostitution, 16-17
punishment for, 2
and race, 685-87
social function of, 1-2
and social pathology, 517
social reality of, 462-71, 467-68
theories of, 387
traits predicting subsequent in-
volvement in, 340
usefulness of, 6-7, 7-8
Crime trends and cycles
composition of, 615-16
macrolevel analyses of, 602-3
Criminal activity
as catalyst for social change, 2
and immediate gratification of de-
sires, 333
risk of criminal penalty for, 334
structure of, 598
Criminal behavior
acquisition of patterns of, 234
association with social and person-
al pathologies, 237-38
delined,515
developmental explanation of,
241-43
distribution of, 187-89
explanations of, 239-40
as individual pathology, 463
learning, 264-65
and opportunity, 180-81
rationalization of, 244-48
theory of, 646-56
Criminal conceptions, construction
of, 467
Criminal conspiracies, 453
Criminal definitions
application of, 464-65
development of behavior patterns
in relation to, 466-67
formulation of, 463-64
Criminal enterprise, support of,
508-9
Criminality
concept of, 332
low self-control and, 329-42
social class position as determi-
nant of, 521-22
Crirninalization, 465
Criminal law
enforcement of, 465
fonnulation of, 463-64
Criminals
acquisition of roles as, 182
careers as, 185-86
as member of minority group, 464
process of making, 382-83
in social life, 8
value system of, 185
Criminal subcultures, 707
Criminal values, cultural transmis-
sion of, 182
Criminological theory, problem for,
237-39
Criminology. See also New criminolo-
gy
emergence of field of, 235
feminist, 673-701
liberal,518-19
Marxian, 657
Cultural conflicts, significant role of,
in American politics, 454
Cultural deviance theory, 273-74, 654
Cultural goals
disjunction between socially struc-
tured opporhmity and, 177-78
patterns of, 143-49
Culturallag, 90-91
Cultural nonns, 168
Cultural transmission, 174
Cultural transmission-differential as-
sociation tradition, 198-99
Subject Index 737
Cumulative continuity, 353
distinguishing self-selection from,
352-55
Cumulative disadvantage, 354
D
Dadaist movement, 425
Decarceration, 507-8, 580
Decriminalization, 581
Delinquency, 71. See also Juvenile
delinquency
attachment to peers and develop-
ment of, 305
class structure of, 656-72
conflict between young and com-
munity in, 380-84
control theory of, 312-29
and family, 340-41
motivationto,323-25
and neutralization, 318-19
power-control theory of, 656-72
prediction of, across lines of gen-
der, class, and race, 345--47
relation between drug use and,
336-37
Delinquent sub-culture, 251-60
Delusions, 401
Demand and prostitution, 17
Denial,401
of injury, 297
as technique of neutralization,
256-57
and labeling, 406-8
of responsibility, 295, 296-97
of responsibility as technique of
neutralization, 255-56
of victim, 297-98
as technique of neutralization, 257
Depoliticization of deviant behavior,
576-77
Depression, 176,401
Descriptive analyses, 601-2
Detenninisrn, 332
Deterrence, 688-89
Developed countries, suicide rates of,
128
738 Subject Index
Developing countries, suicide rates
of,128
Developmental change and turning
pOints, 366
Developmental explanation of crimi-
nal behaviof, 241-43
Developmental psychology, ontoge-
netic approach as dominant in,
350
Deviance, 1, 2, 3, 22-30
in capitalist society, 499-505
career, 390-97
and class structure, 66
in communities, 23-25
corporate, and anomie, 210-26
impact of social control on, 303-4,
306-12
medicalization of, 579-88
and monopoly capital, 505-6
perpetuation of, 26-27
primary, 440-41
problem in defining, 22-23
and public condemnation, 375
responses to, 200-205
secondary, 377, 441-43
and social complexity, 64
and social identity, 205-8
Deviance theory, 130, 497-98
traditional, 495-96
Deviant
acceptance of role as, 408-11
focus on consequences of identify-
ing a person as, 375-76
Deviant behavior
and anomie, 174-91
anomie theory of, 195-99
career development of, 376
consolidated approach to, 187-91
depoliticization of, 576-77
and differential association and
neutralization, 233-34
ecology of, 182
medical social control of, 558-59
pressures toward, 175
symptoms of mental illness.as
residually, 399-400
and technology, 42--44
versatility of, 335
Deviant information and computer
and cyberspace, 44-53
Deviant motivations, 391
Deviant sub-cultures, 218
Deviation
primary, 385-90
secondary, 385-90
Differential association and neutral-
ization, 233-301
and acquisition of criminal behav-
ior patterns, 234
and criminological theory, 237-39
criticisms of, 236
and deviant behavior, 233-34
directions for future research,
27&-l12
empirical and theoretical applica-
bility,236
and explaining criminal behavior,
239--43
Komhauser's critique, 272-78
operationalizing and testing theo-
ry,268-70
and rationalization, 234-35,
244--48,255,293
and situational ethics, 236-37,
292-301
and techniques of neutralization,
251--60
Differential associations, 129, 174,
180,264,449,654
Differential association theory, 111,
183
current state of, 261-83
development, 262-67
revisions of, 270-72
Differential identification, 270
Differentials in access to illegitimate
means, 188-89
Differential social organization, 243,
264,265--66,275
Differentiation of levels
of analysis, 238-39
of explanation, 263
Subject Index 739
DINA,546 Economics and prostitution, 14, 15
Direct-contact predatory violations, Education
559,597 compulsory, 502
minimal elements of, 599 mass, 502
Disdpline Ego, 315
absence of, and low sell-control, Egoistic suicide, 140, 141
338 Eighteenth Amendment, 450, 459
moral,135 repeal of, 459-60
Discontinuity, assumption of, Electronic erotica, social meaning of,
199-200 3,53--55
Discovery, 247 Elite crime, 687-88
Disease model of alcoholism, 568, Embeddedness, 357
570,581 Embezzling, 234
Disinterested reform, 455 Engrossment,316
Disorganizing factors, distinct types Equity Funding Case, 216
of, 80 Ethics. See Situational ethics
Dramatization of evil, 380-84 Ethnic groups, 178
Drift,219 in rackets, 186
Drug addiction, 189, 394 Eufunctions, 3, 33
and difficulty of reversing deviant of initiation ceremonies, 34
cycle, 395-96 Euicide, egoistic, 140
Drug cultures, 190 Evil
Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA), dramatization of, 380-84
547 exclusion of, 577-79
Drug trafftcldng, 540--43, 550-51 Expert control, domination of, 574-75
Drug use Extant studies, relation of routine ac-
and community structure, 66-67, tivity approach to, 601-5
107-21 External containment, 307
relation between delinquency and, assessment of, 309
336-37
Drunken driVing, 636-37. See also Al- F
coholism Family
Dysfunctions, 3, 33-34 activities of, and crime rates,
607-11
E as complementary to prostitution,
Eating disorders. See Anorexia ner- 2
vosa; Bulimia and delinquency, 340-41
Eclectic theory, 560 role of, 165-66
EcolOgical factors as predictive of Fears, anticipatory, 388
social disorganization, 67 Female offender, 677-78
EcolOgical nature of illegal acts, Feminism, 561-62
599--601 liberal,674--75
EcolOgical perspective, 63, 108 radical, 675,679--80
Economic disasters, 136-37 socialist, 675, 679, 684
EconOmic materialism, 138 Feminist criminology, 673--701
Economic progress, 138 methods in, 676-77
 740 Subject Index Subject Index 741

theory in, 673-701 Homosexuality, 391, 393-94, 394-95, Induction, analytic, 263 Juvenile delinquency, 251-60, 472,
Flexibility, 255 421-22,473 Industrialism, rise of, 487-88 473. See also Delinquency
Focus on consequences of identifying rationalization of, 396, 425 Industrial societies early empiricaistudies of, 268-69
a person as deviant, 375-76 Household activity ratio, relationship anomie rn, 128 Juvenile drifters, 219-20
Folkways,71 to crime rates, 616-21 goals in, 176 Juvenile protective associations, 74
Forgery, 314 Human activity patterns Inequality, 490
Fraternities, 299 related property trends relation to, Injury, denial of, 297 K
Friendship clique, 258 613-14 as technique of neutralization, Knowledge, labeling theory and soci-
Functional equivalents, doctrine trends rn, 611-13 256-57 ology of, 427-28
of, 39 Human ecological theory, 598-99 Inner containment, 303-4
Functionalism, 1-62, 233, 449, 453, Human genetics, 566-67 assessments of, 310 L
517 Human nature, 132 Innovation, 129 LabelIng, 388, 473, 474, 478, 490
as ahlstorical, 3 antisocial character of, 305 and anomie, 151-58 and career deviance, 390-97
crime rn, 4-8 and social order, 344 Insanity and societal reaction, 415-30
and deviance, 22-30 Human sexuality, 9 as defense, 567 and denial, 406-8
and new criminology, 521-22 Hyperkinesis, 575, 576 stereotype of, 406 and deviance, 375--448
problems presented by, 35-36 Hysteria, 403 Institute for Democracy, Education, and dramatization of evil; 380-84
prostitution in, 9-22 and Assistance, 541 as interactionist approach; 473
shortcomings of, 33-34 I Institutionalization, 508 of mental disorder, 397-411
and sodal problems, 30-42 Identification, 40,380 Institutional norms, patterns of, as perspective, 517
strength of, 35 Ideological biases, 473 143-49 and primary and secondary devia-
Illegal acts, ecological nature of, Institutional violence, 490 tion, 385-90
G 599-601 Integrative theory, 560 shame of, 562
Gangs, 34, 258, 381-82, 383-84 illegal Arms Export Control Act, 539 Intellectual amnesia, 520 Labeling theory, 375, 449-50, 451-52,
Hell's Angels as, 481, 482 illegal campaign contributions, 453 Intelligence, role of, in school failure, 453
street, 482 Illegitimate means, 174-91 305 criticisms of, 378-79
Ganser syndrome, 404 concept of, 178-81 Intended nonconformity, 390 and primary and secondary devia-
Gender differentials in availability of, Interaction, sequence of, leading to tion, 385-90
class structure of, 656-72 181-87 secondary deviation, 388-89 and sociology of knowledge,
and justice processing, 680-85 Illegitimate opportunities, 129, Interactional theory, 350 427-28
Generalizations, abstract, 275 271-72 Interdependency, 706 Language patterns, 165
Generalized other, 246 closing off, 203-5 Internal containment, 307 Lead poisoning, 482-83
Genetic anomalies, 566-67 opening up of, 203 assessment of, 309 Learning struchues, distinction be-
Genetic counseling, 566-67, 567 Imaginative rehearsal, 410 Internal control, 314 tween opportunity structures
Genetics, human, 566-67 Impersonation, 403 Internalization, 314 and, 180-81
Genetic screening, 566-67 ImpulSiveness Introjection, 388 Legitimate means, 129
Government, 138 biological, 142 Involvement, 316-17 differentials in availability of,
connection between crime and, 651 as barriers to delinquency, 346 175-81
H Incarceration, effects of, 422 and commitment, 321 Legitimate opportunities
Habits, 72 Individual adaptation, types of, closing off, 203
Hallucinations, 401 150-64
Hedonism, 648 Individualization
J openIng up of, 202-3
Jews, 178 Leviathan; 489-90
Hell's Angels, 481, 482 of social problems, 576 Jiro Crow laws, 418 Liberal criminology, 518-19
Higher loyalties, appeal to, 299-300 sociopathic, 385-86 Job stability and changes in adult Liberal feminism, 674-75
Hobohemias, 73, 190 Individual life, functiOning of, 131-32 crime, 353 Liberal philosophy, 7-8
Hobos as retreatists, 190 Individuals, reinforcement of role Justice processing and gender, 680-85 Life course, turning points in, 348-69
TJ _ _ !""!...l_ ...l ___ ! _ ! __ l! __ I.! ___ C t:"~" ______ .I.! ___ _ t "00 on
742 Subject Index
Loco-Focosim,456
Logical abstraction, 237-38, 263, 275
Loyalties, appeal to higher, as tech-
nique in neutralization,
258-<50,299-300
M symptoms of, as residually deviant
Macrolevel analyses of crime trends
and cycles, 602-3
Malintegrated societies, 177-78
Mania, 401
Marijuana use, 120-21, 421
Marital attachment and changes in
adult crime, 353
Marriage, 11, 12
Marxian analysis, 121
Marxian criminology, 657
Marxian theory of deviance, 495-512
Marxist-feminists, 684-85
Marxist lheories of class structure
under capitalism, 281-82
Mass education, 502
Master statuses, distinction between
subordinate statuses and, 393
Means-ends schema, 205
Medellin cartel, 541--42
Medicaid, 582
Medical advice, 564
Medical col1aboration, 567-68
Medical decision rule, 577
Medical ideology, 568-69
Medicalization
of deviance, 579-88
of social policy. 579-88
trends in,S8l-SS
Medicalizing deviance
and exclusion of evil, 577-79
potential for, 588-89
social consequences of, 569-77,
589-90
Medical social control, 575-76
of deviant behavior, 558-59
types of, 563-69
Medical technology, 565-67
Medicine
as institution of social control,
moral neutrality of, 574
Mental disorders, 82, 397-411
analysis of functional, 377-78
social system model of, 398-411
Mental illness, 472, 476, 486, 498
and social pathology, 517
behavior, 399-400
Mental needs, distinction behveen
physical needs and, 175
Michael and Adler Report, 520
.Microlevel assLUnptions of routine ac-
tivity approach, 604-5
Middle range theory, 310-11
Militant deviants, 478
Ivlilitary-intelligence establishment in
United States, 543
Mind block, 295
Modal conformity, 310
Monogamy, 11
Monopoly capital and deviance pro-
duction, 505-6
Moral crusaders, 486-87
Moral discipline, 135
Moral entrepreneurs, 523
Moral fervor, 456
Moralism, 454
Moral neutrality of medicine, 574
Moral perfectionism, 455
Moral reform, 454-55
Mores, 71
Motion picture show, 72
Motivation
to crime, 323-25
to delinquency, 323-25
Multiple-factor approach to crime,
262-63
N Normative conflict, 264, 265-66, 271,
Name calling, 388
Narcotics and Vietnam War, 535-39
National Commission on the Causes
and Prevention of Violence
(1969, xxxvii), 596-97
National Health Insurance (NHI)
program, development of,
National Security Council (NSC), 539
Nativism, 458
Natural areas, depicted as circular
zones,75-82
Natural selection, theory of, 1
Negroes, 170
membership in, 393
migration of, 72-73
status traits of, 392
Neo-Marxian measure of class, 663-65
Neutralization, 449. See also Differen-
tial association and neutraliza-
tion
and appeal to higher loyalties,
258-60
and beliefs, 318
of cheating behavior, 293-301
and condemnation of condemners,
258
and delinquency,318-19
and denial of injury, 256-57
and denial of responsibility, 255-56
techniques of, 251-60, 391
New criminology, 450-51, 452-53,
513-29
challenge to traditional perspec-
tives, 514-15
and Chicago criminology, 519-21
critics of, 523-24
gradual development of, 513-14
meaning of crime in, 515-16
political nature of, 523-24
tasks of, 516-17
New England Federalism, 457
Newspaper, 72
Nicaraguan Contras, 540-43
Nonconformity, intended, 390
Normalization, 507-8
275
Norms
categorizing violations, 400
internalization of accepted, 304
as qualified guides for action, 254
violating, 314
Nurturance, absence of, and low self-
Subject Index 743
o
Objective opportunity, 267
Offender perceptions, choice-struc-
turing properties and, 640-43
Offenses, circumstances and location
of,605
Official control, 504
On-line bulletin board systems, 1! '15
Operant conditioning, 270
Opportunity structures, distinction
behNeenlearrtingstructur~
and,180-81
OppreSSion, 475, 490
Organized crime, 225-26, 508-9
"Other-directed" man, 460
Outer containment, assessments of,
310
p
Pain,8
Parent-teachers' associations, 74
Pathological behavior, 89
Peer pressures, 295
Peers, attachment to, and develop~
ment of delinquent behavior,
305
Pentagon papers, publication of, 484
Persecution, 475, 490
Personality changes, traumatic expe-
riences impact on,386
Physical needs, distinction between
mental needs and, 175
PhYSicians, roles of, 567-68
Piracy, 453, 549-50
as state-organized crime, 531-35
Policeman, role and psychology of,
487-88
Political conflict, 519
Political deviants, 475
Political machine, 225-26
Political prisoners, 478
Politicians, relationship behveen
racketeers and, 184
Politics and labeling, 522-24
Polygyny, 11
Populism, political defeat of, 459
744 Subject Index
Poverty, 38, 137, 452
and social pathology, 517
Power, 452
importance of, 473-74
in labeling people "deviant,"
485--B6
Power-control theory of delinquent
behavior, 560-61, 656-72
Powerlessness, 490, 495
Power politics, 450
Predatory crime, 559, 703
Predatory violations, 597
Premarital chastity, 11
President's Commission on Law En-
forcement and the Administra-
tion of Justice, 476, 483, 484
Pressures toward deviation, 187-88
"Prevert" deviants, 478, 479
Primary deviation, 385-90, 440-41
Prisoner rehabilitation, 478
PrisoTIS,26-27
subcultures of, 478
Problem behaviors, development of,
and changes in, 498
Problem populations
conversion into deviants, 502-4
creation of, 500-501
defining, SOD
development of, and changes in,
498
generation of, 452, 502
level of organization of, 503
social characteristics of, 500
utility of, 503-4
Procedural rules, 464
Professional medical intervention,
564
Prohibition, 450
significance of, 459
Property trends, related relation to
human activity patterns,
613-14
Prosperity, 176
Prostitution, 9-22, 38,472, 473,486
and capitalism, 14-16
commercial, 13-14
and demand, 17
and economics, 14, 15
family as complementary to, 2
motive for, 18
payment for, 16
pure, 13-14
regulation of, 13
religious, 11, 12-13
as safety value, 2
sanctified, 12
and sexual desire, 18
and sexual freedom, 18, 19
and social pathology, 517
in Soviet Russia, 16, 19
vitality of, 9
Protestant envy of sinner, 455
Protestant nativists, 450
Psychiatric formulation, deficiency
in, 398
Psychiatry, sodal control functions
of, 563, 564-65
Psychoactive drugs, 565, 575
Psychological reduclionism, 647
Psychopath, 313
as personality, 651
view of delinquent as, 346
Psychosurgery, 565-66, 575
Psychotechnologies, 565, 575
Psychotherapy, 564-65
Psychotic withdrawal, 189
Public condemnation and deviance,
375
Punishment, 381
for crime, 2
as retribution, 384
Pure prostitution, 13-14
Pyromania, 651
R Reputation, 380-81
Race, 393
and crime, 685--B7
Racism, 452
distinguishing between individual
and institutional, 482
R.:lcketeers, relationship between
politicians and, 184
ethnic groups in, 186
Radical feminism, 675
as critique of women victims,
679--B0
Rampant Reification, 488-89
Rape, decriminalization of, 516
Rate of deviance, 187-88
Rational choice theory, 559-60
and crime-control policy, 643-44
on crime displacement, 631-32
Rationalizations, 234-35, 244-48, 255,
380
and beliefs, 318
for homosexuality, 396, 425
and situational ethics, 293
Reaction formation, 271
Reagan doctrine, 539
Reality-principal,315
Rebellion, 129
and anomie, 162-64
Recidivism, 422-23
Recurrent social processes, 1
Rediscovery, 247
Reference group, 211
Reform, assimilative, 458
Regulatory norms, breakdovm of,
175-76
Reintegrative shaming, 379, 562,
702-13
Relative deprivation analysis, 211
Relative surplus-population, 505-6
Relativist pOSition, 375
Religion, 138
Religious motives, 456
Religious prostitution, 11, 12-13
ReligiOUS revivalism, 457
Reorganization, 69
Reproductive physiology, 10
Reserve potentialities, 386
Residual deviance
origins, prevalence and course of,
40D-403
stabilization and uniformization
of,408
Resource Conservation and Recovery
Subject Index 745
Responsibility
denial of, as teclmique of neutral-
ization, 255-56, 295, 296-97
dislocation of, 573-74
Retreatism, 129, 189-91
and anomie, 160-62
Retribution, punishment as, 384
Ritualism, 12~ 168
and anomie, 158-60
Robbery, decrirninallzation of, 516
Role conceptuals, reinforcement at
by others reactions, 388-89
Role-playing
as model, 403-4
voluntariness at 404
Role transitions, link between turn-
ing points and, 364
Routine activity approach, 559,
596-630
microlevel assumptions of, 604-5
relation of, to extant studies, 601-5
Routine activity model, 559
Rule-breaking, 415-17, 424-26, 428,
479-80
achieved, 417, 419-23, 429
ascriptive, 417-19, 429
Rule enforcement, 450
Rural-urban conflict, 455
S
Sanctified prostitution, 12
SAVAK,545
Schizophrenia, 397, 403
Schlock SOciology, 488, 489-90
School failure, role of intelligence in,
305
Schooling, effect of, on crime rates,
651
Scientific analyses, 37
SDS, 478
Secondary deviance, 377, 385-90,
441-43
Second United Nations Congress on
the Prevention of Crime and
Treatment of Offenders, Lon-
don,306
746 Subject Index Subject Index 747

Selective determinism, 518
Self-control, 460
and alternative concepts, 331-33
causes of, 33&-40
and child-rearing, 340--41
elements of, 333-34
low, and criminality, 329-42
manifestations of low, 334-38
nature of, 332-33
reasons for low, 304
Self-definitions, 386
Self-fulfilling prophecy, 393
Self-justifying rationale, 396
Self-perception, 386
Self-realizations, 386
Self-selection, 355
distinguishing £rom cumulative
con tinuity,352-55
Semantic dementia, 317
Sensitivity to needs of others, 304
Sex, institutional control of, 11
Sexism, 452
Sexual appetite, 13--14
Sexual conditioning, 10
Sexual desire and prostitution, 18
Sexual deviancy and computer,
47-53
Sexual freedom and prostitution,
18,19
Sexual institutions, functional rela-
tion behveen society and, 11
Sexualily, linking of, to bearing and
rearing of children, 2
Sexual misconduct, 476
Sexual seduction, 206-7
Shaming, 562, 706-7, 708
Sibling pair, 258
Situational ethics, influence of, on
cheating among college stu-
dents, 292-301
Slums, 489
organization of illegitimate means
in,184-85
Small-town morality, 472
Srnuggling, 453,543
arms, 539-43
Social arrangements and suicide,
127-28
Social behavior and computer, 55-56
Social bond, effectiveness of process,
344
Social bond theory, 305
Social capital and turning points,
356-59
Social change, 91-92, 489
and crime rate trends, 596-630
effects of, on social order in urban
areas, 65, 74-82
and social disorganization, 65,
71-74
Social complexity and deviance, 64
Social conflict, 475
Social consequences of medicalizing
deviance, 569-77
Social controls, 293, 403-6
impact of, on deviance, 303-4
medicine as institution of, 563-96
paradigm of, 203-4
Social control theories, 236, 272, 277,
343-47
age-graded informal, 349-52
and assumptions about human na-
hue and social order, 344
logical and empirical adequacy,
345-47
and logic and content of, 344
policy implications, 345
underdeveloped,329-30
Social Danvinism, 518
Social diagnosis, 86
Social disorganization, 63-126, 183,
233,243,276,44~472
community structure and drug use
in, 66-67, 107-21
concept of, 64-65, 67-70
definition of, 65, 68
ecological factors as predictive of,
67
relationship between urbanism
and, 65, 74-82
and social change, 65, 71-74
Social disorganization theory, 63-64
macro-level aspect of, 108-10
Social dynamite, 452, 504
Social ecology approach, 108-9
Social identity and deviance, 205-8
Socialist feminism, 675, 679, 684
Socialist utopian vision, 518
Socialization
anticipatory, 205-6
effectiveness of process, 344
Social junk, 452, 504
Social leaming, 270-71
Socially structured opportunity, dis-
junction between cultural
goals and, 177-78
Social order, and human nature, 344
Social pathology, 472, 517-19
perspective of, 453, 516-17
professional ideology of, 65-66,
83-106
Social pattern, study of, 1
Social policy, medicalization of,
579-88
Social problems, 472
branding of, 3
functionalist approach to, 30-42
individualization of, 576
social pathology approach to,
517-19
Social processes in creating stabilized
residual deviance, 378
Social reality of crime, 462-71, 467-68
Social reconstruction, 69
Social redundance, 501
Social restraint, 142
Social science, problems of, 167
Social sensitivity, 425-26
Sodal structure, 276
and anomie, 142-74
variety as product of, 29
Social system model of mental disor-
der, 398-411
Sodetal reaction and career deviance,
415-30
Society, functional relation between
sexual institutions and, 11
Sociopathic individuation, 385-86
- - ~ ~
Soviet Russia, prostitution in, 16, 19
Spying on citizens, 453
State capitalism and new fonns of
control, 506-9
State-dependence, 353, 354
State-organized crime, 453, 529-56
assassinations and murder as,
545-48
definition of, 530-31
exclusions, 530-31
piracy as, 531-35
smuggling as, 535-43
Stereotypes, 388, 477
of insanity, 406
Stigmatization, 562, 702,707, 708
Strain theory, 317, 318, 652-53
Stratification research, 320
Street gangs, 482
Structural differentiation, 274, 276
Stuttering, theories of, 387
Subcultural differentiation, 274
Subculture, 456
criminal, 707
prisons, 478
tradition of, 181-87
Subordinate statuses, distinction be-
tween master statuses and, 393
Success, 172-73
SuHering, 490
Suicides, 140, 314,635
anonUc, 131-41,140
egoistic, 140, 141
and social arrangements, 127-28
types of, 140
Superego, 315
Surplus-population, 501-2
5115tO,408
Symbolic interaction, 270
Symptoms, distinction between cause
and, 41
Systematic causation, 245
T
Technology and deviant behavior,
42-44
Temperance movement, 450, 454-62
-. - - - --- --
748 Subject Index

Terrorist activities, 453 V

Theft,476
Thirst, inextinguishable, 128
Tolerance, 474
Training, absence of, and low self-
control, 338
Transition, zone in, 75
Traumatic experiences, impact on
personality changes, 386
Trust, violation of, 244-48
Turning points
and developmental change, 366
link between role transitions and,
364
social capital and, 356-59
U White-collar crimes, 213, 220, 225,
Unattainable aspirations, 128
Unchastity, 12
Unconventional sentimentality, 487
Underdeveloped social control theo-
ries,329-30
Ulliform Crime Report (FBI), 597
Urban areas, effects of social change
on social order, 65, 74-82
Urbanism, relationship betw-een so-
cial disorganization and, 65,
74-82
Urbanization, 489
Urban renewal, 489
Utilitarianism, 648
Utopianism, 454
Values, criminal, 185
Value system, idea of common, 319
Variety as product of sodalstructure,
29
Verbalization, 318
Victim, denial of, 297-98
as technique of neutralization, 257
Victimization, 475, 504
Vietnam War, 477
and narcotics, 535-39
Violence, 476, 481-83
W
War, 452
Welfare-state capitalism, 452
47~481,483-84,520
White-collar delinquency, 660
Wue exchange, 11, 12
Women of color, 676
Women victims, radical feminist cri-
tique of, 679-80
Working-class subcultural delinquen-
cy,271
y
Young Men's Christian Association
settlements, 74
Z
Zone in transition, 75

~,
THEORIES OF DEVIANCE
Fifth Edition
Edited by John Beasley
Production. supervision by Kiln Vander Steen
DeSigned by Lucy Lesiak DeSign, Park Ridge, lllinois
Compo~i.tion biPo~t ':Vest, ~c., :=ar;:~ Strean:, ~ois