Articles – Contexts: Recent Episodes
Contexts Magazine
A few months ago, I walked into a HomeGoods and saw one of my brightest former students behind the cashier counter. She greeted me with a warm smile and an enthusiastic hug. This was a student who had earned a 4.0 GPA, graduated with honors, and regularly contributed thoughtful insights in class discussions. I asked how she’d been and what she was doing post-graduation. She said, somewhat sheepishly, “I’m just working here for now. I didn’t really know what to do after I graduated.”
That moment stayed with me—not because working retail is inherently bad, but because I knew how capable this student was and how she once envisioned using her sociology degree to enter the world of machine learning. She had shared with me that she dreamed of designing algorithms to make city planning more equitable, from mapping park access in underserved neighborhoods to predicting environmental risks in real time. Now, her response to my innocuous question was capturing dynamics I’ve observed among many sociology majors over the years: uncertainty, hesitation, and a quiet sense that they’re supposed to “figure it out” on their own.
In sociology departments, we often accept this uncertainty as typical. We reassure ourselves—and our students—that liberal arts graduates need time to find their paths. But it’s worth asking: why is that narrative so widely accepted in sociology, while fields like engineering or business support more linear, ambitious career trajectories? In those disciplines, students are assumed to be job-ready by graduation. In ours, the assumption often seems to be that meaningful employment will come… eventually.
This isn’t just about job placement. It’s about how we, as a discipline, frame the value of sociological training and the futures we imagine for our students. Sociology majors learn to analyze complex systems, interpret qualitative and quantitative data, navigate ethical dilemmas, and understand how inequality is structured and reproduced. These are highly transferable skills—relevant not only to academia or nonprofit work, but to public policy, user experience research, human factors engineering, data science, machine learning, data ethics, civic design, finance, marketing, business, and more. And yet, when students express interest in these broader arenas, they’re often met with hesitation, if not outright silence, from faculty.This isn’t just about job placement. It’s about how we, as a discipline, frame the value of sociological training and the futures we imagine for our students.The disconnect between sociological training and the diverse career paths students now pursue is, in part, structural. Many departments lack strong ties to career centers or to alumni working outside of academia and direct service. Faculty trained in traditional research careers may not know how to support students pursuing non-academic paths. But without clear guidance, students interpret our omissions as disapproval. Maybe their career interests are not “real” sociology, they think.
But the issue is also cultural. In many sociology programs, there is an implicit hierarchy of career paths in which graduate school is seen as the gold standard. Nonprofit work is also respected. However, industry jobs, particularly in tech, business, or consulting, are often treated as compromises—or worse, signs of selling out. The unspoken value judgments passed on to our students are not only limiting, they’re classed, racialized, and gendered. They presume a safety net. They presume time and flexibility. They overlook that, for many first-generation students, low-income students, and students of color, “figuring it out” after graduation is not always a viable option.
If we truly believe sociology is a valuable tool for making sense of the world, then we should trust that it can thrive beyond traditional academic spaces. We need to create structures that support a wider range of futures and speak about those possibilities as legitimate—not exceptional.If we truly believe sociology is a valuable tool for making sense of the world, then we should trust that it can thrive beyond traditional academic spaces.Doing so will require practical changes. We need more intentional career development within departments. Alumni panels should include graduates working in civic tech or public-sector innovation, not just PhD students. Courses should include assignments that translate sociological thinking into public-facing work: policy briefs, design critiques, or user personas. And we should build relationships with employers who need critical thinkers but don’t yet know that sociology offers them.
We also need to interrogate our own disciplinary identity. Why do we sometimes define success so narrowly? Why are we still so reluctant to claim power in spaces that aren’t explicitly academic or activist?
In a world facing overlapping crises—climate change, algorithmic surveillance, disinformation, deepening inequality—we need more people who can ask critical questions, think relationally, and understand the stakes of social change. That’s what our students are trained to do. Our responsibility is to help them (and potential employers) understand that those skills matter—everywhere.
The student I saw at HomeGoods? She’s still figuring it out. But I wonder how different her trajectory might have been if we, as a discipline, had done more to prepare her for diverse career possibilities—and to make sure she knew that sociology could go with her, wherever she chose to go.
Yolanda Wiggins is in the Department of Sociology at San José State University, and she is a Public Voices Fellow with The OpEd Project. She studies higher education, STEM pipelines, racial and social class inequality, and the family.
Jonathan Wynn, UMass sociologist and author of The Tour Guide, Music/City, and The City and the Hospital, has a new book out today—and the fact that it’s a novel isn’t the only twist! We reached out to this long-time friend of Contexts (fun fact: he was a student editor for us once upon a time) about the “terrific fun” of writing what we imagine is best-described as his first novel, Belt Publishing’s much-anticipated The Set Up.
Amin Ghaziani [AG]: Hiya Jon, what a pleasure to learn more about your first novel, The Set Up, which comes out on May 20th! Right off the bat, I’d love to ask you, a card-carrying sociologist who’s written and co-written three academic books (plus another on the way), to describe for us the process of shifting into fiction writing. What was the sweetest part?
Jonathan Wynn [JW]: What a lovely question. The sweetest part has been sharing drafts with my students. The last few semesters I’ve used a draft of the book as one of several options students could pick for an end-of-semester ‘sociological book report.’ Students always surprise me with their writing, but they’re picking up on things I missed in my own book! Last semester a student wrote about how using third person omniscient point of view is an inherently sociological approach to fiction! I was floored. I wrote a ‘study guide,’ with question prompts and additional readings broken down by themes, for instructors who want to use the book in class as well.
AG: What about some of the challenges that arose for you?
JW: They were many and varied: from writing in a non-academic voice and building an expansive whodunnit mystery, to being playfully teased by my colleagues for writing a novel and having impostor syndrome for it. At the same time, I can’t lie. It was terrific fun.
AG: And how much sociology did you smuggle in?
JW: A lot. My goal was to write a book my students and the broader public would want to read cover-to-cover, while also sneaking in sociological insights. One of the biggest challenges was jettisoning concepts to better serve the overall pacing. My initial idea was that one of the characters would be a sociologist who gives mini-lectures throughout the book. I had to scrap that to help the story click. Still, I found writing fiction allowed me to write more sociology, not less. I was free to draw from the best of the discipline. The world needs our ideas now more than ever, and this book is very much a love letter to the field.“I found writing fiction allowed me to write more sociology, not less. I was free to draw from the best of the discipline. The world needs our ideas now more than ever, and this book is very much a love letter to the field.”AG: Since we’re talking about the writing, I’m interested: What stood out in the process of character-building? How was it similar to or different from incorporating research respondents into your past work?
JW: As a qualitative researcher, I’ve always paid attention to portraying people with richness and care. I use real names in my studies, so if I didn’t do a good job, I’d hear from them! I’ve also written about how ethnographies use certain writing conventions to create characters, from Nels Anderson’s The Hobo to Peter Bearman’s Doormen, as tools for analyzing social types: from analyzing their ‘tricks of the trade’ to their career paths to their institutional ties. I definitely drew from that research.
I would also mention that writing characters who were, well, not white straight men, was a weighty responsibility. Aside from the story, this was my #1 concern. Readers of contemporary fiction might be familiar with controversies around this issue. (Look up the debate around Jeanine Cummins’ American Dirt, a book about Mexican immigrants written by a white author.) Not only did I enlist several ‘sensitivity readers’ (as they’re called in the business), but I endeavored to read from an even broader palate of sociology than I usually do with my characters in mind. I did my best to not only traverse the very high bar we should expect from all authors but, as a sociologist, I hope I raised it.
The Set Up, 2025AG: So, what can you tell us about, well, what The Set Up is about? Pull us into the story.
JW: It’s about a rogue guerilla-marketing agency in Las Vegas that employs actors in everyday situations to manipulate peoples’ behaviors, whether it’s buying a smartphone app or convincing someone to leave a strip club. It’s Ocean’s Eleven meets Charlie’s Angels meets Erving Goffman. Things go awry, people die in suspicious circumstances, and three very different characters are pulled together to navigate the backstage world of everyday life. They learn that the very real model of hiring actors—whether it’s Japan’s Rent-a-Family industry, or a business hiring mystery shoppers, or a presidential candidate paying people at a rally—can have a dark side to it.
AG: It’s extremely cool that yours has been selected as a “most anticipated book”—how does it feel to have written a novel that so many people are looking forward to?
JW: That’s flattering, and I hope it’s the case. I want to say that I absolutely had Contexts readers in mind when I wrote the book. I was a student editor for Contexts in graduate school, and I’ve always loved the mission of the magazine.
AG: Finally, you know our team at Contexts loves the visual elements of storytelling. What part did you get to play in choosing the moody, revamped-retro cover art for The Set Up?
JW: David Wilson is the Creative Director at Belt Publishing, and all the credit goes to him. He 100% nailed the vibes. I loved working with a small indie press like Belt.
Amin Ghaziani, co-editor of Contexts, is in the Department of Sociology at the University of British Columbia. He is the author, most recently, of Long Live Queer Nightlife.
For years, we have been inundated with messages about the importance of obtaining a college degree. Popular narratives portray the journey to and through college as the pathway to success—professional, economic, and personal. These narratives, which form part of what Tressie McMillan Cottom has described as the “education gospel,” undergird ideologies such as College for All, a perspective that all students should be guided in the direction of college attendance and graduation, including through school policies and government initiatives. While often discussed in the context of American education, similar narratives emphasizing the benefits of a college degree have been present in many other countries worldwide.
To be clear, these narratives have a basis in reality: on average, college graduates have higher wages, lower unemployment, better health, and more stable family lives than people without college degrees. But as my research reveals, these outcomes are not guaranteed.
As an undergraduate, I fully bought into narratives about college as the pathway to success. However, after graduating and moving to Spain to teach, I began to witness the reality that these narratives overlooked as I encountered many young graduates who were struggling to gain a foothold in the labor market and establish financial independence from their parents. Later, in graduate school, I learned how the experiences of these young Spanish graduates fit into broader demographic realities. Due to growing employment precarity, stagnant wages, high inflation, and rising costs of higher education and housing, many young college graduates around the world simply aren’t experiencing the benefits promised by the education gospel.Many young college graduates around the world simply aren’t experiencing the benefits promised by the education gospel.These realizations prompted further questions. In the face of powerful narratives about the benefits resulting from college graduation, I wondered, how did struggling young college graduates interpret their own less “successful” outcomes? How did they understand their social positions and worth? And how did their experiences in higher education shape these understandings?
In a recent paper published in Sociology of Education, I examine these questions through the perspectives of 127 young college graduates (aged 25-34) in the United States and Spain—all of whom were experiencing post-graduation insecurity (e.g., unemployment, unstable employment, debt, low wages, etc.). Despite major differences between the two national contexts, such as the much higher rate of youth and young adult unemployment in Spain and the much higher cost of higher education in the United States, I found a startling similarity among respondents in both countries: most understood themselves as “stuck.”
The young graduates’ feelings of being stuck stemmed from the mismatch between their expectations for life as high-status college graduates and their experiences of insecurity post-graduation. I call this state “expectational liminality.” As Manuel, an unemployed Spanish graduate, reflected, ‘‘[After] five years of college, a master’s…you think the market will give you a thousand opportunities to work when you enter the workforce. And that’s when a wall hits your face.” Respondents saw themselves as having transitioned from being college students—yet they felt they had not attained the lives expected of college graduates.Young graduates saw themselves as having transitioned from being college students—yet they felt they had not attained the lives expected of college graduates. I call this state “expectational liminality.But why did these young adults have such high expectations for their post-college trajectories in the first place? My interviews revealed that graduates’ high expectations stemmed from three powerful narratives associated with higher education, focusing on themes of (1) professional and financial success, (2) rapid life course development, and (3) internal worth and merit.
Respondents frequently drew on the first two narratives to describe the expectations that structured their experience of liminality. For instance, Susan, an unemployed American graduate, remarked, “I always thought I would graduate college and I would find a great job and I would get the house and the white picket fence and the husband and the dog and the baby and everything would fall into place. That’s complete bogus these days, it’s not what we were fed when we were growing up… I’m finding myself feeling stagnant and stuck so much of the time.”
Meanwhile, respondents drew on the third narrative to emphasize their internal worth as graduates, describing the merit they felt they had cultivated through their experiences during college. Despite feeling liminal due to not having attained the lives promised by the first two narratives, they affirmed that their internal worth would eventually enable them to transition to the “college graduate” lives they expected—and believed they deserved. David, a Spanish graduate surviving on family assistance and under-the-table employment, worried about “when [his] future would start to be a present” but confidently stated: “At a certain point, I will start living, I’m going to pull upwards, and then I’m not going to brake…I’m not worried about that at all.”
The question underlying my participants’ concerns is a simple one: Is college worth it? Caught between the expectations that come with getting a college degree and the real-world insecurities that patterned their lives after graduation, these college graduates struggled to make sense of their social positions and worth. Yet their answer was a tentative yes…if not in the present, in the future.
Elena Ayala-Hurtado is a postdoctoral fellow at Princeton University. She studies work and economic life, young adulthood, and culture.
And so begins our end.
With this issue we step forward into the final year of our editorship of Contexts, embodying in a personal way the theme of “heartbreak and hope” that animates these pages. We recognize that our letter finds you at a time when fear and fury, shock and struggle saturate our lives, but the features and photos we present reflect what makes us human: the search for something good—despite the devastations. In the words of Shel Silverstein: “Listen to the mustn’ts, child. Listen to the don’ts. Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me…. Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”
Here, you’ll find layer after layer of something special. For instance, in past years, we focused our Q&A on conversations with journalists and public intellectuals about how they use social science research in their work. But this year, we’re doing something different by spotlighting all the former editors of Contexts, exploring how they sought to realize what founding editor, Claude Fischer—whom we interviewed first—characterized as the sine qua non of our beloved magazine: a “moral obligation” that we, as sociologists, have to share our knowledge with the wider public, “to deliver something useful, accessible, and interesting” to them. You’ll glean rare insights into the undertaking of this grand project of public sociology, embodied in these pages.
Individual behavior is contextual, Fischer told us. Contexts matter. That insight is truer than ever. And so, we invited five sociologists to share their reflections about the 2024 U.S. presidential election. Just as the discipline is a “big tent,” the esteemed essayists in this special section offer many viewpoints into the why, how, and especially the now what questions that we are all asking, questions that take aim at our collective heartbreak and hope.
The delicate dance between reality and potentiality glides through the entire issue, including in all of our outstanding feature essays. The first focuses on the sea of grief that envelops high schools whose students experience gun violence. The burden that survivors carry often falls to the wayside as the media and school officials rush to move on—but we must mobilize our material and emotional resources as a salve for the inner lives and academic futures of our students. A second essay, examining why men cheat on their wives, reveals that counter to popular narratives about sexual desires, at least some men actually seek greater emotional connections. Critically, we see both the downsides to this finding—many men have unreasonable emotional expectations for their partners—and the positives: men are not uniformly cold and calculating but in fact yearn for more meaning. The same duality presents in our book review, which contrasts the academic’s “commonsense” and distant take on people with an empathic experience we uniquely can access by paying attention to the lives being lived by those same people. Reader, we encourage you to feel more and get closer—as our authors do—to groups like unhoused people, the mentally ill, and aging gang members, all of whom you will meet in this issue.
The perils of uncertainty and change run alongside heartbreak and hope in a third feature, where we see businesses struggling with competing goals of sustainability and profitability. Becoming a green business sounds good, right? But what happens when environmental goals brush up against the bottom line? Our final feature considers how Gen Z women are rejecting the binds of hashtag feminism, yet without accessing the wealth of global feminisms that might truly prove utopic and liberatory (they might look, for instance, to the Black women in Sharla Berry’s culture review who, finding that work is a zero-sum game, have decided to stop playing).
From one page to the next is also the specter of technology: in a culture essay on the philosophical, ethical, and practical dilemmas AI poses for sustaining a social self and in Allison Pugh’s One Thing I Know piece, which asks what price we pay when we shift burdens of care from humans to computers.
With new endings and new beginnings, the world never stops changing. That can be stressful and painful, but from it can spring forth so many good things. Whether, as in our evocative photo essays and trends pieces this issue, we step into that more generative space by crossing boundaries and blazing paths or, as in our special election reflections, by bringing our knowledge to bear on pressing social problems, we believe this first issue of the year illuminates an irrevocable insight: agency, like the contexts in which we live our lives, matters—and it provides an inextinguishable spark of hope amid the sting of heartbreak.
Seth Abrutyn and Amin Ghaziani
from the editorsin brief:* “Cash and Control,” Colter J. Uscola. * “Place-Based Politics,” Parker Muzzerall. * “New Labor Model, Same Old Problems,” Parker Muzzerall. * “All Fun and Games?” Colter J. Uscola. * “Emirati Women’s Hidden Paychecks,” Elena G. van Stee. * “Between a Rock and a Landlord,” Parker Muzzerall. * “Friendship Therapy,” Parker Muzzerall. * “Seeking Help, Seeking Dignity,” Elena G. van Stee
q&a: “A Moral Obligation: An Interview with Claude Fischer, Founding Editor of Contexts.” Amin Ghaziani speaks with Claude Fischer, founding editor of Contexts*, about his vision for the magazine and the importance of continued investments in public sociology.
special section:* “Election Reflections–and What Comes Next,” by Amin Ghaziani, Seth Abrutyn, Daniel Laurison, Mary Romero, Andrew J. Perrin, Amienne Spencer-Blume, Cecilia Menjivar, and Eduardo Bonilla-Silva. A curated collection of essays tracking the pulse of American democracy as the second Trump Administration comes into power, this special section considers the campaigns that were waged and previews the battles yet to come.
features:* “‘You Want Us To Think Outside the Box, But Who’s Funding It?’ Tensions Between Profitability and Corporate Environmental Sustainability,” by Vanessa Adel and Leslie King. Corporations may talk a good game when it comes to environmental stewardship yet balk at projects that threaten the bottom line. Unpacking the “business case” framework with CES professionals reveals their limited agency to effect more than minor change. * “Beyond #Girlboss and #Tradwife: Reclaiming Joy by Expanding Our Feminist Imagination,” by Smitha Radhakrishnan and Cinzia D. Solari. Hashtag feminism responds to White western women’s binds and the limits of “having it all” but overlooks the global, utopic feminist visions that might help struggling women everywhere forge paths toward liberatory futures. * “The Hidden Toll of Grief after Youth Gun Violence,” by Nora Gross. Ethnographic research at an all-Black, all-boys high school uncovers the emotional and academic toll of young men’s untended grief in the wake of gun deaths. After the balloons are released and the candles are snuffed out, public vigils become private burdens for the youth who survive their peers. * “An Emotional Affair,” by Alicia M. Walker. Speaking directly with dozens of married heterosexual men involved in extramarital affairs fleshes out a dirty little secret: it’s not always the sex they seek but the validation. By digging deeper, we learn how threatened masculinity gives rise to tacit expectations of wives’ relational labor.
in pictures:* “Regarding Borders and Boundaries.” Luc Pawels on the dynamic processes of “bordering.” * “Seeing Tensions in Adulthood.” Alicia Smith-Tran, Sunny Hunt, Dakota Wynn, Izze Powell, Jonah Covell, and Charlie Kline on the rocky road to “real” adulthood.
culture:* “Black Women, YouTube, and the Anti-Work Movement.” Sharla Berry on refusing to play a zero-sum game. * “AI and the Looking-glass Self.” Carsten Lund Pedersen on identity and the AI gaze.
trends:* “Why Conservatives Embrace Social Democracy.” Arthur Scarritt, Michael Kreiter, Amelia Jobe, and Danilla Kowalczuk on surprising support for social programs. * “Being First-Generation.” Vincent J. Roscigno, Jasmine Whiteside, Erick Axxe, Anne McDaniel, and Oded Mcdossi on first-gen students’ vulnerabilities and resilience.
books: “Geographies of Trauma.” Stefano Bloch on Sons, Daughters, and Sidewalk Psychotics and The Marvelous Ones*.
policy brief:* “The High Costs of Veterans Affairs Privatization.” M. Evangeline “Evie” Lopoo on the threat of austerity at the VA.
one thing i know:* “The Power of Partiality.” Allison J. Pugh on the lamentable triumph of objective knowledge.
“Dr Burawoy was one of the few senior sociologists who stood unequivocally against the genocide. He did so loudly and eloquently, never declining a request to speak or write on the matter. What an absolute gem of a human.” – Eman Abdelhadi, posted on X
Professor Michael Burawoy, our beloved colleague, mentor, and friend, passed away on February 3, 2025, in Oakland. He retired from the University of California-Berkeley, where he taught for 47 years, in 2023.
Burawoy published 12 books and more than 120 articles. He served in multiple leadership positions: Chair of the Berkeley Sociology Department (1996-1998, 2000-2002); President of the American Sociological Association (2003-2004); Vice President for National Associations of the International Sociological Association (2006-2010); and President of the International Sociological Association (2010-2014). He won many awards, including the W.E.B. Du Bois Career of Distinguished Scholarship Award from the American Sociological Association.
Michael Burawoy was a giant within the field of sociology. A path-breaking Marxist sociologist, he changed how we do sociology and how we think about the world. Lying beneath this revolutionary impact were the other sides of Burawoy: a brilliant teacher and mentor, a curious student, and a human with a deep commitment to a better and more just world.
Burawoy as Path-breaking Marxist SociologistBurawoy’s journey toward Marxism and sociology began in southern Africa in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He joined and wrote about campus protests at the University of Zambia, where he earned an MA degree. He observed the transformation of the Zambian copper mines after independence, culminating in his first book, The Colour of Class on the Copper Mines (1972). And he built on a burgeoning Marxist historiography of South Africa to theorize the relationships between racism, capitalism, and migration.
As a PhD student at the University of Chicago and then a faculty member at Berkeley, Burawoy turned to factory ethnographies, first in Chicago and later in Hungary. His groundbreaking study of the labor process, Manufacturing Consent (1979), revealed how games on the shop floor produced worker consent to their own exploitation. In The Politics of Production (1985), Burawoy would go on to contrast factory regimes across the globe. He showed that politics exist outside the state, within the factory, and, further, that the difference between capitalist and state socialist countries lay in different relationships between the factory and the state.
Burawoy devoted his life to sociology, and through his efforts to integrate Marxism into the discipline he became a renowned social theorist. He theorized a Marxist approach to the labor process, taught us how to develop a scientific Marxist research program, and pushed us to rethink and reconstruct the sociological canon. He developed innovative analyses of both the collapse of Soviet communism, and the marketization of the university. And he theorized how to unite Marxism and sociology, via what he called “Sociological Marxism.” Burawoy also developed an influential ethnographic methodology, “the extended case method,” which has transformed how many sociologists think about not just ethnography but research methods in general (see The Extended Case Method: Four Countries, Four Decades, Four Great Transformations, and One Theoretical Tradition, 2009).Burawoy devoted his life to sociology, and through his efforts to integrate Marxism into the discipline he became a renowned social theorist.For Burawoy, a Marxism worth pursuing had to be engaged with the world, situated within a global perspective. During his term as President of the American Sociological Association, he advanced the idea of “public sociology,” a sociology that is deeply engaged with communities beyond the academy. This call prompted crucial debates within the discipline, and it continues to inspire sociologists across the world. As a leader within the International Sociological Association, Burawoy promoted a “global sociology” that sought to facilitate dialogue across national and hemispheric divide. Toward this end he founded the journal Global Dialogue, which lives on today and is published in 17 languages.
Burawoy as Teacher, Student, and ActivistWhat does it take to produce a revolutionary sociologist? What prompted and enabled Burawoy’s innovations? At the top of the list was surely his experience as a gifted teacher and mentor, which consistently informed his research. At Berkeley, Burawoy became famous for his undergraduate lectures in Social Theory, where he coaxed more than 200 students—he carefully learned each of their names—into deep discussion and critical thinking. Among graduate students, he chaired more than 80 dissertations and served on many more as a regular committee member.What does it take to produce a revolutionary sociologist?But his reach as a mentor was never limited to his formal students. Across the globe, he supported many scholars at various stages of career development. Burawoy’s brilliance as a teacher and mentor reflected his outstanding qualities as a person. He was both demanding and kind. He was patient. He was extremely generous with his time. And most importantly, he believed in others and their capacity to do great things. For his students, this unwavering support meant the world.
In part, Burawoy was a great teacher and mentor because he was also a student. Not in the formal sense, but rather in the sense that he was deeply curious about the world. He was eager to learn from his students and colleagues, and he consistently sought to incorporate new ideas into his repertoire. This is what brought him joy. And it held true, even as he was steadfast and transparent about his own strong opinions and commitments. For somebody with such monumental accomplishments, his modesty and humility were remarkable.
Finally, there was Burawoy the activist. He was deeply committed to social justice, and he fought this battle on the terrain of sociology. This was the root of his interest in public sociology, and he always understood students as his most important public. In his last book, Public Sociology, Burawoy tells us that the sociologist should strive to balance an anti-utopian critique of the existing order with a utopian aspiration for a better world. This duality permeated his research and his interpersonal relations with sociologists across the world. Many will remember Burawoy for his support of social justice in Palestine, which he consistently championed in the last year of his life.
Sociologist Heba Gowayed writes, “Burawoy’s final lesson to us all is how he is being remembered. Yes he was a brilliant scholar, yes he shaped the discipline, but the outpouring [of love and support] is about who he was as a person, a gracious mentor, a kid human being, an advocate for justice.”
Let us remember Burawoy’s many sides—not only because they were inseparable, but also because they are a model for us all. Michael Burawoy was a great human and an inspiration to many. An absolute gem, indeed.
Marcel Paret is in the Department of Sociology at the University of Utah and in the Center for Social Change at the University of Johannesburg. He is the author of Fractured Militancy: Precarious Resistance after Racial Inclusion.
With the explosion of genetic ancestry testing, more and more Americans are connecting with new parts of their ethno-racial identities. But does a White suburban New Yorker finding out they are 4% Cherokee make them Indigenous? If they believe it does, what are the implications for our everyday understandings of racial identity? A new article published in Social Problems offers some answers.
Sociologists Amina Zarrugh and Luis Romero studied 568 YouTube videos in which consumers of ancestry tests “revealed” their results. Given their public, and often performative, nature, these videos offered an ideal dataset for examining how genetic testing services are reshaping how people understand racial identity in their daily lives. Using qualitative analysis, the authors found that consumers of ancestry tests consistently engaged in a process of “genetic racialization” in which they employed a biological and genetic understanding of race and ethnicity to reconstruct their racial identity based on statistical percentages rather than culturally resonant definitions of group membership. For example, while 41% of the YouTubers described feeling as though their test results revealed their “true identity,” only 25% contextualized these findings within American history or culture.
After decades of social science and humanities scholarship emphasizing the social construction of racial and ethnic categories, these findings offer several important, and challenging, implications. Acutely, they suggest that a “blood quantum” understanding of race may be regaining popularity through genetic ancestry testing. And when a genetically deterministic definition of race helps individuals feel connected to an identity outside their lived experience—that is, when natural science offers a pathway to a form of group membership—it pushes us to consider broader questions about the potential limitations of social scientific conceptions of race.
In a recent New York Times article, journalist Eli Tan shared his experiences using AI clones to improve his dating life. After programming these clones with information about his hobbies and mannerisms, he tasked them with evaluating potential matches. The clones interacted with other dating platform users—sometimes real people, sometimes other AI clones—through chat messages and virtual “first dates” to narrow the pool on Tan’s behalf. While this AI experiment was ultimately unsuccessful in finding a viable match for Tan, CEOs of leading dating app companies envision a future where AI bots do the dating for us, saving us the time and agony of going on bad dates.
Confronted with such stories, we might protest that AI dating isn’t authentic, however detailed our instructions to the clones may be. Authenticity matters to us, and it has been recommended as a best practice in dating. But has authenticity ever been possible? From the perspective of a symbolic interactionist—that is, someone concerned with how we make meaning through social interactions, gestures, and language—the barriers to authenticity long predate dating bots. They’re intrinsic to our social world.From the perspective of a symbolic interactionist—that is, someone concerned with how we make meaning through social interactions, gestures, and language—the barriers to authenticity long predate dating bots. They’re intrinsic to our social world.First, from a symbolic interactionist perspective, our emotions are not really our own. They are formed in response to the expected reactions of others. In The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, for example, Erving Goffman argues that we approach social interactions as actors approach performances: we deliberately construct our behavior and mannerisms to create social situations that will reflect positively on us. As we interact, we gauge whether our behavior achieves its purpose, and we engage in an iterative process of interpretation and readjustment that allows us to control our image. Our private conduct is, therefore, inherently tangled up with the social responses we expect, making it difficult to locate feelings that are “authentic” to us.
Reaching emotional authenticity is further complicated by the fact that we humans are bad at distinguishing between our real and contrived emotions. In her 1983 book The Managed Heart: Commercialization of the Human Feeling, Arlie Hochschild distinguishes between “surface acting”—altering our true feelings to cater to the expectations of others—and “deep acting,” or creating memories that spontaneously evoke a desired emotion. In the former case, we may be aware that we are “faking it,” but we rarely view deep acting as fake. To illustrate, a spurned lover might deliberately recall unhappy moments shared with an ex-partner to cultivate genuine feelings of hate, making it easier to move on. Similarly, a hiker may exaggerate in his own mind the difficulty of a past adventure to sustain a narrative of success and persistence. These instances of deep acting show how our “true” emotions both elude and delude us.
Moreover, even when we feel confident that we know our authentic feelings, we are discouraged from expressing them. Goffman used the metaphor of a “backstage” to symbolize the messy and socially inappropriate thoughts and feelings that we avoid showing others. But why, when we all have such hidden messiness, do we refrain from sharing them, which could lead to meaningful connection and validation?One reason, I argue, is that we do not want others to show their true selves to us. Seeing others—especially potential dating partners—in all their unlikeability takes away from their appeal and attractiveness. Take a dating app profile that checks all your boxes: hobbies, looks, and witty quips, to boot. While we are aware that these qualities are carefully constructed, we choose to believe that this person “authentically” embodies them. If we thought of these profiles as “acts,” the entire system would crumble. As a result, we not only convince ourselves that a potential partner is an ideal match but also present ourselves in a similarly manicured fashion to appear equally worthy. What we end up showing others is contrived authenticity, a polished version of ourselves that we perceive as socially appropriate.Though true authenticity may be unachievable, I argue that we can cultivate more meaningful connections by pushing at the boundaries of authenticity, gradually expanding the definition of “appropriate behavior” to include our less protected and more vulnerable selves.
These insights add another layer to current discussions around the problem of “authentic” dating in the age of AI. Symbolic interactionism teaches us that this concept has always been elusive due to the performative and socially constructed nature of our actions. Though true authenticity may be unachievable, I argue that we can cultivate more meaningful connections by pushing at the boundaries of authenticity, gradually expanding the definition of “appropriate behavior” to include our less protected and more vulnerable selves. When enough of us courageously share our genuine, unpolished sides, the social system that has long discouraged such interactions might finally begin to reward them.
Giora Ashkenazi is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at Stanford University. He studies intimacy and dating, technology, and culture.
Acknowledgments: The author would like to thank Emily Johnson, Tom Nachtigal, and Professors Michelle Jackson and Angèle Christin for their feedback.
How do online interactions mirror societal norms? A recent Social Psychology Quarterly article reveals that even those online spaces that are collectively supportive against racism and sexism are rife with the sorts of limiting societal expectations imposed on racialized women in the offline world.
Using interview data from 18 Black and Asian women, Paulina d.C. Inara Rodis identifies their two primary responses to racist or sexist content online: either refraining from response or taking on an “educator” role. Despite advocating for the latter, interviewees more frequently opt for the former. Their decisions, while not diminishing their commitment to anti-racism or anti-sexism, stem from an awareness of the consequences of speaking up. These ramifications include increasing their already heightened visibility as racialized women in society and inviting the considerable emotional toll of carefully crafting a response, managing their emotions, and finding direct and often altruistic reactions to racist or sexist content—what the author labels “digital emotional labor.”
Racialized women are aware that their actions and digital profiles may evoke and reinforce certain controlling images—stereotypes and tropes used to justify their othering and discrimination. Thus, they carefully consider not only how they wish to be perceived but also how their actions (and inactions) might perpetuate cultural biases and contribute to the marginalization of other women of color.
Status matters, but not in the way we might think. While it may not, for example, be surprising to learn that being attractive helps secure a job, a recent article in the American Journal of Sociology finds that “the extent to which an actor occupies similar ranks across different status dimensions,” or has status consistency, is what truly matters.
Through a multi-context study in China and the United States, Christopher Marquis, András Tilcsik, and Ying Zhang examined status consistency in the job market. While no gender differences were found, more attractive applicants with elite educational credentials were favored for higher-status jobs, while less attractive applicants from non-elite universities were preferred for lower-status positions. Applicants with either attractive looks or elite educational credentials, but not both, were not favored for either type of job. The underlying mechanism the authors identify is that candidates with status inconsistencies are not perceived as the most qualified for higher-status jobs. Meanwhile, they are seen as less committed to the organization, which creates more uncertainty in the evaluation process for both types of positions compared to status-consistent applicants.
The proliferation of social networking sites—and their many photos of job-seekers—has only made it easier for potential employers to discern applicants’ physical attractiveness and, consequently, status consistency, raising important questions about the dynamics of status and inequality in contemporary labor markets. The authors thus hope that their perspective will shed new light on “the sociological aspects of physical attractiveness and help advance the broader social scientific project of uncovering the dynamics of status and inequality in contemporary labor markets and other social arenas.”
Media coverage of race and higher education in the United States often portrays Asian American and White families as competing for limited seats at prestigious institutions. What happens, though, when it’s time for those admitted students to go to school? New research aims to untangle patterns in these families’ college spending.
The study, published by Kimberly Goyette and colleagues in Sociology of Race and Ethnicity, uses data from the 2015-2016 academic year drawn from the National Postsecondary Student Aid Study (NPSAS). In their analysis, the authors find that Asian American parents paid more for their children’s college education compared to White parents, despite having lower average incomes. In part, this reflects the fact that Asian American college students were more likely to attend selective schools. But, by acknowledging the under-acknowledged diversity within the Asian American group and breaking the data down by immigrant generation, the scholars note important nuance. Parental spending was highest among three ethnic groups—Chinese, Japanese, and Korean Americans—and among recent immigrants. In fact, by the third generation in the United States, differences in Asian American and White parents’ college spending were no longer significant.
Sex sells, the old marketing adage goes, but who is buying? Many assume that commercial sex is purchased by men, from women. However, new research published in the British Journal of Sociology sheds light on sexual transactions in which the traditional gender script is flipped—when sex is purchased by women from male sex workers.
To offer a novel account of women clientele in the commercial sex industry, sociologist Eileen Y.H. Tsang draws on interviews with female clients and male sex workers conducted during three years of ethnographic research in Pistachio, a high-end Chinese nightclub. Tsang reports that the transactional nature of these sexual experiences allowed some women to find forms of intimacy or sexual experiences that were otherwise unavailable to them. For other women, pleasure was the primary motivation in seeking novel sexual experiences focused on elation over emotional attachment. Finally, some women deliberately sought sexual experiences that challenged traditional gender roles. In those cases, women clients typically described a desire to adopt traditionally masculine behavior in their sexual encounters, a pattern corroborated by male sex workers who described performing femininity for wealthy women consumers.
Tsang’s research challenges us to expand the enduring male-consumer, female-provider vision of commercial sex in order to recognize the diversity of subversive sexual experiences sought by and available to both male and female clients. Especially for women, these experiences can allow for challenging notions of what society expects of them—in and beyond the bedroom.
Stigmatization is often thought of as an individualized burden. But can this shameful mark be experienced by and shared with others? New work published in The Sociological Quarterly by Veronica Horowitz and colleagues investigates how legally imposed monetary sanctions act as intergenerational transfers of stigma and burden.
Through the analysis of 70 interviews with debtholders in Minnesota, the research team revealed that children, parents, and those subject to legal monetary sanctions all experienced stigmatization. Those individuals who attempted to overcome their debt sometimes prioritized paying fines over providing support for their children, which contributed to intergenerational impacts. Further analysis showed that parents of the fined who provided financial assistance felt the impact of stigma. Where past research underscores that mothers often front the bill for their adult children’s legal obligations, the current study makes clear that both mothers and fathers provide support. Fathers, especially, experienced anger along with the financial strain. Many of those who were fined had both debt and children, and they felt immense stress, hopelessness, financial strain, and a belief that they may never catch up on payments. Whether probation fees, fines, or restitution, the monetary sanctions experienced by people in this study affected multiple generations and most greatly impacted disadvantaged families.The intergenerational harm wrought by monetary sanctions makes clear that this form of punishment spreads far beyond making those who do the crime pay the fines.The fact that the penal system most greatly impacts those who are disadvantaged is not news. But the intergenerational harm wrought by monetary sanctions and their attendant stigma is—it makes clear that this form of punishment spreads far beyond making those who do the crime pay the fines.
Let’s be real: taxes and fees stink. In Venezuela, a nation experiencing an ongoing political and economic crisis, nearly 52% of the workforce depends upon freelance work to make ends meet. In this context, many data workers trying to get paid are now subjected to a gauntlet of both international and domestic financial intermediaries—work platforms, digital crypto banks, and local brokers—each charging fees. A paper published by Julian Posada in Big Data & Society investigates the impact.
Through 38 interviews, Posada reveals how this volatile payment scheme presents three costly outcomes for workers. As crypto-payments must move through intermediary institutions, workers typically receive much less than they earn. The multi-layering of institutions also makes it difficult to withdraw funds quickly, which is essential given the risks inherent to the highly volatile crypto-market. Further, the distance between employer and international employee—both geographically and digitally—exacerbates power imbalances that push costs onto workers.
In an age of international outsourcing, worldwide data companies profit off of international workers, many of whom are in precarious financial situations. However, in cases like Venezuela, where the gig economy and crypto currencies make sense to counter unemployment and hyperinflation, ethical payment practices that take context into consideration may ease the over-taxed lives of global employees.
Since the mid-2010s, there has been a notable rise in media attention toward so-called unaccompanied minors migrating to the United States from Central America without parents or legal guardians. While some minors travel alone and may have no family members in the United States, the great majority travel with siblings, extended family, guides, or other community members and migrate to reunite with close family members in the United States. Nonetheless, in the media and public discussions, they are typically depicted as solo travelers, uniquely alone and vulnerable. Such stories leave many puzzled. Why are these minors traveling across the border without their parents? And what happens to them after they arrive in the United States?
Media accounts often portray the rise in this category of migrant arrivals as unexpected and unprecedented. However, as sociologists who study migration and families, in our view, this trend is neither unexpected nor unprecedented. On the contrary, as we explain in our new book, Reunited, it was only a matter of time.
Reunited draws on interviews with migrant youth, their sponsors, and professionals who work with migrant populations in schools and nonprofits. We introduce the concept of family-propelled migration to explain how and why minors from Central America and other regions decide to migrate to the United States on their own. We argue that the decision to migrate is ultimately a family-driven decision, typically motivated and facilitated by the presence of family members already living in the destination country.
Many of the teenagers who crossed the U.S. border in the early 2010s were the children of parents who had previously left Central America, sometimes as many as 14 years earlier. Many of these youth were traveling with larger groups and heading toward existing migrant communities in the United States, often established by previous generations escaping civil war, generalized violence, and economic instability.
The presence of family in the United States, long separations of parents and children, children coming of age, and events on the ground in Central America—such as an increase in violence and youth gang recruitment—all help explain why these minors left when they did. Indeed, the minors we spoke with commonly cited educational disruptions and gang recruitment as factors in their decisions to leave.
Not only was this migration trend predictable, but there is precedent for the phenomenon of youth migrating to the United States without a parent. If migrant minors had been less visible before, it was only because the border had not been as intensely patrolled and because arrangements between Mexico and the United States allowed for Mexican minors caught at the border to be quickly returned to Mexico. Thus, few records documented this phenomenon. The same relative invisibility characterized the many minors from Europe and Asia who migrated alone in previous centuries, when the United States government was not deemed responsible for their safety once they reached its shores.
While family reunification may conjure up an image of parents and children living happily ever after, the reality is far more complex. When one family member joins another in a new country, they encounter numerous challenges, both internal and external to the family unit. In addition to the difficulties of navigating new surroundings, foreign cultural expectations, and an unfamiliar language, integration within the family can pose additional challenges.
The children and adolescents we feature in Reunited often had not seen their U.S. family members for many years—some not since they were small children. Given the high risk and cost of the undocumented journey to the United States and the restrictions placed on those not subject to legal permanent residency, green cards, or citizenship, parents who migrate to the United States without their children are seldom able to travel back to their home country to visit. They must instead parent from afar and send as many remittances as possible.
Moreover, families change. Upon arrival in the United States, many youth encountered new stepparents and step- or half-siblings. Some dealt with new forms or degrees of religiosity that their parents had adopted and expected their children to adopt, as well. For reunited youth, understanding and interpreting parents’ rules and deciding whether to follow them was often a difficult process. Emotional ties were tested after reunification, and new lives together required active negotiation.Reunited highlights a paradox in the migration trajectories of Central American minors: while these youth are highly visible at the border, their experiences of integration are largely invisible.Besides the family, schools played an important role in youth migrants’ integration trajectory and experience of belonging. Our findings indicate that schools that invest in staff and social work programming can help migrant youth and their families make sense of their new lives and identities, help them to understand and reach their goals. We have seen much evidence of this among the youth we spoke with in the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area.
Reunited also highlights a paradox in the migration trajectories of Central American minors: while these youth are highly visible at the border, their experiences of integration are largely invisible. Both the border and the journey north play important roles in shaping migrant youth’s integration trajectories, as they often experience significant challenges that produce various forms of trauma. We argue that integration needs to be viewed, understood, and approached holistically, emphasizing the importance of strengthening new family, school, and community ties to effectively support migrant youth and families.
Ernesto Castañeda and Daniel Jenks are co-authors of Reunited: Central American Youth Migration and Family Separation. Ernesto Castañeda is Professor in the Department of Sociology at American University, where he also serves as the director of the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and the Immigration Lab. Daniel Jenks is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania.
When envisioning the places most conducive to lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) flourishing, we might picture urban hubs like Montreal, Toronto, and Vancouver, with their populations, progressive attitudes, and vibrant gay social scenes. But how are LGB-identifying Canadians faring in rural areas?
A study in the Canadian Review of Sociology examines LGB mental health across the urban/rural divide, finding mental health disparities that vary in complex ways along with respondents’ partnership status and gender. Drawing from 10 years of aggregated data sourced from the Canadian Community Health Survey, author Matthew Stackhouse shows that partnered gay men residing in rural areas report the highest predicted scores of mental well-being—higher than both their partnered heterosexual counterparts and partnered gay men dwelling in Canada’s largest urban cities. Among partnered lesbian women, there were no significant mental health disparities across geographical regions. Regardless of partnership status and geographic context, bisexual individuals—particularly bisexual women—display disadvantaged mental health outcomes when compared to their heterosexual counterparts.
The findings of this study provide insight into the role of romantic partners as buffers against the challenges experienced by LGB Canadians, particularly those in rural areas. They also underscore how both single LGB individuals and bisexual women face significant disadvantages in mental health outcomes, speaking to the necessity of creating rural environments where they can thrive as well.
We are on the verge of one of the biggest wealth transfers in world history—what some social scientists have called “The Great Wealth Transfer.” We are also living through a huge increase in wealth inequality. Yet we know surprisingly little about a key type of wealth transfer: inheritance. What do people actually do with their wealth when they die?
In a new study published in Socio-Economic Review, I meticulously trace the inheritance practices within a specific wealthy population—the White upper class of Dallas, Texas—from 1895 to 1945. To do this, I linked bequest data to a kinship network I constructed using the Dallas social registers and other archival sources. I also analyzed qualitative data, including memoirs, oral histories, and the wills themselves.
I began by asking a simple descriptive question: Who inherited what? Based on what I already knew about this population (it was super patriarchal) and everything I’d read about inheritance practices among the wealthy (they typically favor sons), I expected to find that men inherited more than women. This is a very common “family wealth arrangement” in a global-historical context. It’s even the case in supposedly gender-equitable legal contexts like France and Germany.
But the Dallas data revealed a surprising pattern. The figure below illustrates that, overall, women inherited triple what men did. It wasn’t even close. Even when I exclude bequests between spouses, which overwhelmingly went to wives (who tend to outlive their husbands), women still inherited twice as much as men.
What on earth was going on? That’s a question for the qualitative data. As it turns out, there was a general social expectation that if elites died with any financially vulnerable, socially recognized close kin, those heirs would receive extra bequests. That mostly meant husbandless women and fatherless children. It was a kind of private, gendered safety net approach to distributing fortunes at death. This expectation was so strong that one local banker, Buckner McKinney, felt the need to explain in his will why he was not leaving an extra bequest to his unmarried sister Hallie—she was already quite rich.
Of course, this interpretation is based on the convenient fiction that fortunes are fungible—in other words, that we can simply count the dollar value of each person’s inheritances, divide them up by gender, and call it a day. Yet a deeper look at the data shows that men and women inherited different forms of wealth. Men inherited properties that gave them opportunities for accumulation and control, like stocks and trusteeships. Women inherited the kinds of wealth that gave them status and stability, like mansions, trusts, and jewelry. We can think of this as a gendered family system: men were matched to properties that enabled them to get even richer, and women were matched to properties that helped them maintain their family class status—without giving them significant economic control. A generalized social expectation among Dallas elites resulted in a kind of private, gendered safety net approach to distributing fortunes at death.The findings from my study offer two key takeaways. First, we still need a lot more information about variations in gendered inheritance practices among the wealthy. What other gendered inheritance practices are out there? How do those practices influence the distribution of wealth across gender categories and the population more generally? And how do they influence the relative stickiness of wealth across generations? Second, even in extremely patriarchal contexts, understanding inheritance and class persistence requires us to pay attention to women.
Shay O’Brien is a postdoctoral scholar in the Stone Program in Wealth Distribution, Inequality, and Social Policy at Harvard. She studies elite kinship networks.
When does cultural appreciation become appropriation? A recent study published in the American Sociological Review offers a fresh look at this often misunderstood process.
To do so, sociologists Abraham Oshotse, Yael Berda, and Amir Goldberg applied an experimental design, known as a vignette experiment, to a large sample of over 2,500 participants. The authors provided stories describing one cultural group member engaging in a practice of another cultural group while altering the contextual information provided to participants. For example, in one vignette a White woman is noted for her love of wearing an Indian sari. For some participants, the White woman is described as affluent, while for others she is working-class. In another vignette, a male organizes a Mexican-themed Calavera Party. For some participants, he is White, for others, Black.
By controlling for the impact of particular sociodemographic factors, the authors found that cultural “trespassing” is most likely to be viewed as inappropriate when it devalues the host culture or is seen as being extractive to the benefit of the trespasser. Their findings show that the most offensive acts of boundary crossing are those in which a privileged group (e.g., Whites, males) adopts the practices of a disadvantaged one. Interestingly, though, it was those study participants most disenchanted with the possibility of upward social mobility who were most likely to take offense to any act of cultural boundary crossing.Amid public debates centered on what is and is not cultural appropriation, Oshotse, Berda, and Goldberg demonstrate the fallibility of any set of universal criteria.Amid public debates centered on what is and is not cultural appropriation, Oshotse, Berda, and Goldberg demonstrate the fallibility of any set of universal criteria. Instead, their account reveals how cultural appropriation is a contextual process, shaped by the nature of the act and the actors involved. Further, this research warns that inequality and status disillusionment create the conditions for increased cultural conflict.
In our present era of book bans, challenges to K-12 gender curriculum, and legislative battles over gender-affirming care, it seems the left and right have nothing in common when it comes to kids. To learn more, Mallory Rees and Abigail Saguy examined the current state of discourse on gender in the context of parenting, drawing on interviews with 85 U.S. gender activists from diverse political orientations. As expected, their Social Forces article reports conflicting opinions, but also notes several surprising points of alignment.
Left-wing gender activists in the study tended to endorse following a child’s intuitive gender expression and identification, sometimes even suggesting that parents should wait to use any gender labels until prompted by the child. In contrast, their right-wing counterparts typically expressed the idea that teaching children how they fit into society based on their sex assigned at birth would better set them up for adult success.In our present era of book bans, challenges to K-12 gender curriculum, and legislative battles over gender-affirming care, it seems the left and right have nothing in common when it comes to kids. …By highlighting points of convergence, the study provides a more accurate and nuanced depiction of the polarized parenting advice affecting U.S. families….Despite these differences, however, Rees and Saguy found subtle indicators of convergence in these activists’ parenting preferences. On the right, activists expressed support for practices that would have been considered progressive a few decades ago, such as letting girls play with “boy toys” or encouraging them to pursue traditionally masculine career paths. On the left, activists showed a shift from earlier feminist movements by placing comparatively less emphasis on the societal oppression of women, instead focusing on gender as an identity to be celebrated and nurtured. Moreover, activists on both sides aligned in their understanding of gender as an innate rather than a socially constructed personal attribute (even if they disagreed on its origin).
Though activists may not reflect the perspectives—let alone the practices—of ordinary American parents, their views hold significant sway over public opinion. By highlighting points of convergence, the study provides a more accurate and nuanced depiction of the polarized parenting advice affecting U.S. families than we’re likely to encounter in our social media feeds.
The Contexts team is happy to welcome the esteemed Dr. Alondra Nelson. The Harold F. Linder Professor at the Institute for Advanced Study, where she leads the Science, Technology, and Social Values Lab, and a distinguished senior fellow at the Center for American Progress, Nelson served from 2021-2023 as deputy assistant to President Joe Biden and acting director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy. She is also a member of the United Nations High-Level Advisory Board on Artificial Intelligence. Widely known for her scholarship at the intersection of science, technology, and society, Nelson is the author of several award-winning books including, most recently, The Social Life of DNA. Her essays, reviews, and commentary have been featured in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, Foreign Affairs, Wired, and Science. Nelson took time out of her busy schedule to join Contexts co-editor Amin Ghaziani for a chat about her applied sociology work within and beyond the academy—and her advice for those who want to follow in her footsteps.
Amin Ghaziani (AG): You served as Deputy Assistant to President Joe Biden. Our readers would love to know how a sociologist found their way to the White House. Can you retrace your steps for us?
Alondra Nelson. Photo courtesy Dan Komoda.Alondra Nelson (AN): In 2016, I began writing a book about science and technology policy in the Obama administration. I had become intrigued by this administration’s ambitious science and technology policy initiatives. For example, it started a large-scale health and research project, now called All of Us, which aspires to place one million Americans’ DNA in a database for clinical and biomedical research. Some of the framing of this initiative, which foregrounded ethical practices for research, suggested public health officials and science policymakers had been reading what sociologists, historians, and other social scientists had been writing about the social implications of science and technology. That was the bridge from my earlier research to this new book project.
Beginning in 2016, as part of my research, I interviewed people who had worked in the Obama administration. Over the course of three years, I came to know a social network of science and technology policymakers. In 2020, some of the people I’d interviewed were working on the presidential campaign. When it was established that the Democratic ticket was going to be Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, some of those people reached out to me and invited me to join the campaign’s science policy committee, which was part of the larger domestic policy committee. this large committee was 5,000 people. I don’t want readers to get the impression that it was, like, me, three people, and Joe Biden. These were large committees. As part of this committee work, I co-chaired the Subcommittee on Social and Behavioral Sciences, with fellow sociologist Rashawn Ray. In November 2020, after the election had concluded with Biden as the President-elect, someone reached out from the transition team and asked if I would consider being interviewed for a deputy director position at the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP).
I’m also an ethnographer. So, I said “Sure,” in part because I thought, “Wow, what a bonanza of fieldnotes!” I was excited to have the opportunity to shift my book project from being primarily based on interviews and archives to being in the space of how science policy is made including in personnel selection. I remember mentioning this proposition to my partner. I said to him, “Oh, this is hilarious. They don’t put sociologists in the Office of Science and Technology Policy!” As I completed a series of interviews for this deputy director role and was about to do another, when I got a call that said, “We want you to do this job.” That’s how it happened—I didn’t apply for the job in a traditional sense. It all came together in ways that still surprise me.
The more sociological answer to your question is this: the Biden administration was coming into office during the height of a pandemic. It was the end of 2020. A lot of the challenges that we were having as a society were exacerbated and brought to the fore: profound health inequality, the profound mistrust of vaccines, medicine, clinical research, and government. We had [and now have] a national and international crisis punctuated by that fact that people don’t trust science, and we need[ed] broader expertise in science and technology policy to help us begin to understand why this was the case. So that opened a window of possibility for having social scientists appointed to the Biden administration.
The more short-and-sweet sociological analysis is that it was both social networks—the networks I had built doing interviews for the Obama book—and political opportunity structures, that this was an historical moment at which someone with my professional profile and experience seemed like an obvious choice.“[T]he Biden administration was coming into office during the height of a pandemic. It was the end of 2020. A lot of the challenges that we were having as a society were exacerbated and brought to the fore. …So that opened a window of possibility for having social scientists appointed to the Biden administration. …[T]his was an historical moment at which someone with my professional profile and experience seemed like an obvious choice.”AG: Can you describe one or two moments when our disciplinary style of thinking and perceiving the world mattered for the work that you were doing on the ground?
AN: I was appointed as the first-ever Deputy Director of Science and Society at OSTP. Traditionally, that role had been titled Deputy Director of Science. So, the job itself had been remade as a job that was about society as well as science. That meant I was able to bring my full sociological self to policy meetings and conversations. At meetings, people would turn to me and say, “You’re the society person, you’re the sociologist. What do you think?” This moment was one in which there was an appreciation for sociological perspectives and methods in a way that there had not been before. That’s the larger framing of the work.
My team did some work around “equity and excellence” in STEM. This took something of a a sociological perspective: If you want more people to work in certain fields, what can government, civil society and business do together to enable that? How can we reimagine fellowship programs to be responsive, or at least sensitive, to the fact that self-identified women researchers often have caretaking responsibilities that constrain their ability to use fellowship resources in the same way that other colleagues might be able to? How can we ensure that people who feel vulnerable in public spaces can do fieldwork? Those are broader, sociological questions that arise when one considers the full spectrum of what researchers do and in what contexts.
AG: Writing is one of the main ways that academics share knowledge, but it takes a special kind of intellectual courage to participate in the high-profile public forums that you do. How do you prepare for such platforms?
AN: Well, that’s nice of you to say. I don’t know that it takes courage; I think it just takes what a lot of academics have, which is ego, like, we think we’re right. [laughs] Like, I know I am right.
How to prepare? I think so much of it is really about our role as teachers, believe it or not. I think some would approach that question with, “Practice!” and stand in front of the mirror—you know, the performance piece of it. But for me, it’s always fundamentally about, “Am I clearly conveying to whoever is listening what it is I’m trying to say?” It always takes me back to teaching—not in a didactic way, like, “I have things to convey to you who needs to be enlightened” kind of way, but in a sense of clarity and [a] lack of expectation that people should be where you are, on the same page.
As academics, we’re trained to be condensers of information and make all sorts of assumptions and connections. Someone says, “Simmel,” and it’s shorthand for all these things. But speaking to the public is more like teaching. The point is to travel together, to learn together. I know public speaking can be scary. In this moment, it is particularly scary for women and for people of color. I think [my approach to] preparation really comes from reminders I always get from my mother: “What are you trying to say to people?” “Lead with your heart.” And not, what are you trying to pontificate?“[S]peaking to the public is more like teaching. The point is to travel together, to learn together.”AG: I am moved by the notion of leading with your heart. Thank you for sharing that. Your mom sounds like a wonderful person.
AN: Yes. And very wise.
AG: You are located at the Institute for Advanced Study (IAS) in Princeton, which provides a unique model for exchanging ideas. How do you think about the interplay between disciplinary voice and interdisciplinary exchange?
AN: I’ve often described myself as an interdisciplinary sociologist. But I’d never been in close quarters, regularly, with people trained in different disciplines until recently. It’s an interesting thing to be in a department (or a “school” as we call it at (IAS) with people who have not only other disciplinary perspectives and trajectories, but who are from other countries and, therefore, often have intellectual assumptions and experiences quite different from my own. I think we underappreciate how similar it is to be a U.S. political scientist and a U.S. sociologist versus a political scientist trained in Belgium, or something. There are national norms that are underappreciated. (Marion Fourcade’s work on French and American economists is helpful for seeing this). So, it has been a wonderful, real deep dive into interdisciplinarity.
I think part of the extreme privilege of being at the Institute for Advanced Study is an opportunity for intellectual experiments…It’s been a wonderful home base from which to hatch and convene lots of rich interdisciplinary collaborations. And then the other piece about the Institute for Advanced Study is that the faculty here at full freight is about 28 people. It’s a very small permanent faculty—but we bring anywhere from 230 to 250 fellows [each] year. Every year our School of Social Science [hosts] 19 to 23 new people, sometimes people who are thinking about the same things you are, but from a different intellectual tradition or disciplinary tradition. And you get to spend slow time with colleagues in the same space. That’s wonderful as well.
AG: Contexts runs a policy brief in each issue. Recently, these have included pieces on psychedelics, college access after incarceration, and drug or reparations. If you were going to give one quick policy recommendation today, what might you suggest?
AN: We’ve got to think about our work in different sorts of lanes and with different types of pacing. So, certainly, we need deep, rigorous research. But often what the policy space and policymakers need is not our marginal advances on a particular methodology or a particular theory. They need more foundational, cumulative knowledge. So, I would say we often know enough about educational inequality, about gender segregation in employment, or about the housing crisis to be able to make smart policy about it. And doing that doesn’t require another ethnography or quantitative study, necessarily.One lane is the standard way we do research. The other lane is, when a policy issue arises, to be able go to that storehouse of information that every academic has in abundance. We don’t think we ever know enough—and it’s part of what makes scholars great, that continual searching for answers—but we also do know a whole lot. And the whole lot that we know can be quickly turned into a one-page memo [or] an op-ed, something that can really benefit people if we’re willing to be a bit braver and a bit quicker with our work. The urgency I am talking about is not [about] being rash or indiscriminate with the research. If we really think the issues around, for example, economic inequality or in the criminal legal system, et cetera, are urgent, then we need to respond with that kind of urgency. So, the second lane is about pacing.“We’ve got to think about our work in different sorts of lanes and with different types of pacing. So, certainly, we need deep, rigorous research. But often what the policy space and policymakers need is not our marginal advances on a particular methodology or a particular theory. They need more foundational, cumulative knowledge.”
In the medical sciences, there are experts who are not basic researchers—but who are also not PR people—who translate [basic research] into more applied forms where it can be used by policymakers. I think any serious commitment to public sociology has to be committed to this translation piece. And translation is not just, “I did three years of research, and then I put it up on a website.” It is asking questions like, “What does it mean for the broader world?” None of us are trained to do that, and there are people who are better at it than us, who are expert at it. Maybe we should partner with them.“I think any serious commitment to public sociology has to be committed to this translation piece. And translation is not just, ‘I did three years of research, and then I put it up on a website.’ It is asking questions like, ‘What does it mean for the broader world?’”AG: Given that sociologists are not trained to do this kind of translation work, how can we learn how to do it—and not just how to do it, but to do it well?
AN: I don’t think most scholars have to learn how to do it! This is what I mean about developing a translational research ecosystem. What the life sciences or the biomedical sciences have done is say, “It’s not an individual problem, it’s an infrastructure problem.”
I think it’s been right to create spaces for humanists and social sciences who want to do more outward facing work, things like the Op-ed Project and venues like The Conversation. I think all of those are fantastic, and more of that should be done. But we have taken a kind of neoliberal approach to it. It’s like, “You do it.” You alone are supposed to somehow fix public communication and understanding—as opposed to doing as they have done in the sciences, creating offices and centers to do this work in collaboration with basic researchers.
Amin Ghaziani is in the Department of Sociology at the University of British Columbia. The co-editor of Contexts, he is the author of Long Live Queer Nightlife.
A Silicone Cage? generated with DALL.E2Since ChatGPT launched in 2022, AI has become inescapable. Sociologists warn an “algorithmic society” risks deepening inequalities in finance, healthcare, and science, yet others see potential for imaginative uses that benefit society. Are data streams and chatbots the new iron cage? Can sociologists, especially qualitative researchers, make these tools work for social insight?
Lessons from History’s Filing CabinetThough C. Wright Mills’s The Sociological Imagination predates AI, the appendix offers timeless insights on using structured systems to repurpose technology for sociology. Mills leveraged filing cabinets, folders, and carbon paper—not just as storage but as tools for organizing, revisiting, and rearranging ideas. He even recommended emptying files on the floor to regroup them, denaturalizing categories and inviting new perspectives. As a graduate student, I was struck by Mills’s pragmatic, subversive approach. His craftwork provided an alternative to “grand theories” that framed segregated America as history’s peak and “abstracted empiricism” that measured what was convenient, not what was crucial.
Qualitative Data Analysis (QDA) filing system diagram, original 2004, 2018 update with color codingEmbedding metadata in filenames (Li and Abramson 2024, Ethnography and Machine Learning)Just as filing cabinets can be repurposed for sociological purposes, so can computation. For nearly two decades, I have used Mills’s “file” to introduce qualitative data analysis to qualitative colleagues, survey researchers, and students puzzled by sociology’s methodological distinctions. I always emphasize the pragmatic repurposing of technology, given varied goals and a commitment to methodological pluralism (even within approaches). The added value of computation, for me, is found in possibilities for machine-readable datasets, flexible indexing, error reduction, and posterity—the ability to archive, revisit, and perhaps one day share in-depth data in an interactive way. I believe that rather than just reproducing “best practices” and past failures, technology can be repurposed with imagination.
Sociologists today are combining computational social science, AI, statistical methods, and traditionally qualitative methods in creative ways. Before ChatGPT became a household name, my teams began experimenting with machine learning for large-scale comparative ethnographic projects. We weren’t just trying to increase efficiency; we aimed for greater accuracy, verifiability, and triangulation. The results were positive: machine learning helped uncover biases in our human coding, link multi-year patterns to individual interactions, and visualize patterns described in narratives.Machine learning helped uncover biases in our human coding, link multi-year patterns to individual interactions, and visualize patterns described in narratives.During the pandemic, and while sidelined from the field, we revisited 12,000 pages of human-coded interview and participant observation data from our prior research on terminal illness. We trained a language model (BERT) on our coding, then combined machine classifications with in-depth qualitative analysis to identify patterns and address new questions. By recoding descriptions of experiences with disease from the first symptoms onward, we identified important strategies for approaching advanced cancer that were obscured in prior coding. This process of re-arranging data with the assistance of computational power mirrors Mills’s analog example 70 years ago.
While I offer examples I’ve worked with personally, I am not alone in leveraging technology for engaged sociology. Initiatives like the American Voices Project are offering a testing ground for others interested in the possibilities of pushing the boundaries of traditionally qualitative work. My team argued that “big” qualitative data are useful as a distinct research genre that enables the linking of personal narratives to broader societal inequities and connecting history and biography in an examination of social suffering. Dozens of teams examined salient empirical topics, and initial works have already enabled important discussions about the possibilities and limits of opening qualitative data for public use.
Crafting Sociology with PurposeMills’s appendix remains insightful in an era of technological hype and hope. The core lesson—that well-developed systems can enable rigorous creativity—is still relevant, even as our tools evolve.The core lesson—that well-developed systems can enable rigorous creativity—is still relevant, even as our tools evolve.Yet there’s a caution. Decades after reading The Sociological Imagination, the striking parallels between Mills’s approach and the foundational work of W.E.B. Du Bois hit me. Du Bois also championed a critical, engaged, and empirically grounded sociology, emphasizing the enduring value of data for future generations. Although Mills perpetuated his era’s neglect of Du Bois, he still helped advance the field in ways that aligned with Du Bois’s vision. The underlying lesson isn’t just about distinguishing technologies broadly labeled as “AI” or warning against the dangers of complacency. Rather, a review of sociology’s own “file” reminds us that social inquiry is fraught and imperfect, as are its practitioners. The dangers of erasure, abstracted empiricism, and “grand” theory remain unremitting, even among our most venerated. Vigilance and continual reflection on our toolkit are always necessary, though never sufficient because the task of crafting sociology has never been more consequential—or more precarious.
Acknowledgments: I would like to thank James Elliot for a conversation on Mills’s piece which inspired this post. I would also like to acknowledge my collaborators (especially the Medical Cultures Lab), the American Voices Project (which provided an opportunity to work on issues discussed here), and the speakers at the American Sociological Association Webinar on Trends in Mixed Methods Research for valuable contributions reflected in this work.
Corey M. Abramson is in the Department of Sociology at Rice University. His research examines connections between inequality, health, and culture.
We are thrilled to welcome Roman Williams to the Contexts blog to celebrate the publication of his new book, Sacred Snaps: Photovoice for Interfaith Engagement. In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Roman about his photography-driven approach to participatory action research—what Roman calls “sociology with the public.” They discuss how Roman is using the tools of sociology to study intergroup engagement and foster greater understanding across religious and other social divides. You can watch the full interview above and find lightly edited excerpts from their conversation below.
Elena van Stee (EVS): To start out, why don’t you tell us a little bit about what you mean by “sociology for the public.” What’s this version of sociology that you’re practicing these days?
Roman Williams (RA): Well, I often talk about it as a prepositional shift in my work. As a sociologist, I’m trained to be a sociologist of religion, a sociologist of culture—there’s hardly a sociologist out there who doesn’t have “of” in front of some subfield. Many times, that, to me, has felt like I kind of put a parachute on… and I sneak around in uncharted territory and then go back to my office and write up what I observed. And then I send that off to a peer-reviewed journal, and it gets published behind some paywall, and the people I wrote about don’t have access to it. I don’t mean to disparage the discipline, but that’s how it feels sometimes.
That’s the “sociology of.” And don’t get me wrong, that’s important work. But there’s this other side that I like to think of as “sociology with.” And that’s more like me showing up on the playground with my little bucket full of toys and walking up to a place where other people are playing in that sandbox and saying, “Here are my toys. How can we play with these together?”
This sometimes falls under the heading of what we think of as “participatory action research,” where the researcher [has] expertise because of their background and training, but so do the people they’re working with. They’re experts on their own daily lives, their experiences, and the challenges that they might be facing in the world. “Sociology with” invites them to be full participants, not subjects. It invites them to have agency in the process. …Over my career, I’ve made that shift from, you know, “jumping out of planes” to “playing in sandboxes,” if you will.“’Sociology with’ invites [the people we’re working with] to be full participants, not subjects. It invites them to have agency in the [research] process.”EVS: Practically, what this shift has looked like in your career? How has your work changed?
RW: Well, can we just say what day it is? I mean, are we allowed to say what today is?
EVS: Absolutely.
RW: Today is November 6th, 2024, the day after the election. And as I told some British friends I had breakfast with, I’m keeping a stiff upper lip today. I’m being brave. The outcome of the election wasn’t the one that I had hoped for, and it took me back to the Fall of 2016 when I began to be concerned about things that were said on the campaign trail about brown-skinned people from other countries who happened to be Muslim, and how they would be treated in the world.
I started having conversations with friends about that, and in the back of my mind were these words [from theologian] Gustavo Gutierrez…: “You say you’re concerned for the poor… tell me their names.” And if someone said, “Roman, you say you’re concerned about Muslim people… tell me their names,” that would have been a really short list. …And then [I had] a conversation with a friend who happens to be a minister who had a really deep interfaith background… and over a breakfast, we put together their interest in interfaith understanding and cooperation with my tools as a visual sociologist.
I use a tool called photovoice. …It comes out of public health, and it’s designed to equip people to use their cameras to go out in the world to document daily life around a set of experiences, needs, concerns, problems. …I’m constantly asking people… “What do your beliefs, your values, your practices look like in everyday life?” …and [then they gather and] have a conversation about their photographs. …And you see some really important things happening, like relationships being built, some religious literacy being transferred, a bit of empathy when someone who is not Muslim realizes the real challenge of fitting [the [practice of prayer] into their daily life.[T]hat’s where photovoice gets its name: the photograph gives someone a voice in their community.And then we put on an exhibit, maybe it’s at a library or at a house of worship, or maybe it’s a proper museum, and we invite people from the community that need to hear those stories. Maybe a topic about personal safety in public comes up. We want to make sure that local law enforcement is invited to the opening night celebration for that exhibit so that the participant can then share their experiences and do some self-advocacy. And that’s where photovoice gets its name: the photograph gives someone a voice in their community.
EVS: You’ve told us about the “participation” and the “action” components of participatory action research. What’s the “research” side of it?
RW: For this project that our book is written around, we wanted to try to understand how this tool, photovoice, could be used to build bridges between people from different religious backgrounds. We did three exploratory projects. One was in Richmond, Virginia. One was in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which is where I live. And the third one was in Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada, at a university there. And in each of these projects, [there were] anywhere from 15 to 25 Christians and Muslims that came together to have these conversations and then ultimately put on these exhibitions. Along the way, we treated those projects ethnographically. We were taking field notes. We were taking our own photographs. …And then, after we completed each of those projects, we interviewed half of the people who had gone through it to try to understand what had happened and to learn from them about the process.
There are many conclusions we can draw from the body of data, but what I want to focus on is the interpersonal change that can happen through interactions like [those that occur in a photovoice project]. …It’s not the kind of structural change that we as sociologists know to be important, but it’s the beginning of that. The change has to start somewhere. …We have seen changes happen in organizations and in communities—changes that are small and incremental, but it’s movement. It’s movement in a positive direction.
Roman Williams is the founder of Interfaith Photovoice, an organization that combines photography and sociology for intergroup and interfaith engagement. He is the author of Sacred Snaps: Photovoice for Interfaith Engagement. Elena G. van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. The blog editor for Contexts, she studies culture and inequality, focusing on families, higher education, and the transition to adulthood.
Let’s have fun!
Autumn in North America is magical for many reasons. First, there’s the spectacle of color that surrounds so many of us (sorry California friends). Second, the cool weather invites the cozies, like sweaters, fires, and our favorite hot drinks—cocoa, coffee, and yes, even a pumpkin spice latte. And then there’s all the amazing stuff to do: apple picking, painting leaves, antiquing, movie nights, hayrides and Halloween costumes (as you can see, a personal favorite for us), tailgates, bonfires, and fast-approaching holiday parties. A bonanza!
Maybe it’s because we’re overworked academics (we mean, um, devoted professionals), but is there anything better than taking a break from the mountain of work and spending time with friends? Going out together is fun, and that quality makes it transformative. Because life in the ever-darker days of fall is—let’s be real—sometimes sluggish, having a place where we can feel a dash of joy and discover anew our voices, these are things of splendor.
Which is why we are so excited about this issue. Go to temple with Akhil, the “gay Gandhi” of Mumbai, and trade tales about Pride parades in India, where voice opens a pathway to agency. After that, head to Portugal and hang out with the Cabo Verdean migrant women who have come to Lisbon to do home care service work. Their intersectional identities are visible as they walk the streets, but those identities don’t always mark them as marginal—they also inspire spaces for Black joy. “Racism is everywhere,” Djedje will tell you. At bus stops, trains, supermarkets. But when she goes to church or to her favorite small nightclub, far from the tourist center, she and her friends find themselves surrounded by bright outfits and braids that mark the space as diasporic, sure, but also a “scene of unbridled Black joy.” Picture it: happy voices singing and smiling faces dancing all around you!
Work awaits in the morning, we know. Time to punch in at BrainShare, a start-up in Silicon Valley. The company will promise to take you to the moon and back, but to make good on all that hype you have to be all in, working 70-hour weeks. It’s thrilling to be around young people sharing new ideas and running with those ideas. But are you sure this is what you want? The women you work with are probably pushed into devalued “mother” roles, while older workers with family obligations are seen as a drain. The fantasy of “having it all” may not be what it seems.
Perhaps now is a good time for that long-overdue vacation. Have you booked your Airbnb? If not, you might want to reconsider. The company hoards and withholds a lot of data—who posts a property to rent, at what price, and for how many nights. This makes it nearly impossible for cities to monitor the company, let alone regulate or enforce the same standards that apply to others. Never fear, for places like Portland and Denver have found ways to ensure compliance with local regulations. Whether a person or a platform, reading this piece reminds us to know your limits.
From unbridled to cautionary, the stories in this issue sing with voice and joy. Sometimes, authors lean into one or the other side, like in our photo essay on pinball machines or a culture piece that brings forth a powerful Afrofuturistic vision. We then modulate with voice, hearing from Dipti in India and Molly in New England about unequal access to drinking water, or reconsidering the gender pay gap, and reminding ourselves that gentrification happens in small cities too. Ours is a problem-centered discipline, and we look fearlessly and with fortitude into big ideas like community health, sexual assault on college campuses, hierarchies of social status, and suicide. This issue packs a punch!
Sociology is about social life. And that, dear reader, is a great, big thing. From Pride parades to nightclubs, workplaces to temporary accommodations and everything in between, we are always rehearsing ways of feeling and being together, ways of acting and relating with each other. In real life as on the colorful, autumnal page. Like in a special Q&A, where we chat with our talented, insightful, and dedicated graduate student editors to hear about their experiences at the magazine and their vision for the future of the discipline.
Contexts is where the action is, a public-facing collection of stories that showcases the latest and greatest in sociology. Flip or scroll through the pages and find your social life. Listen to the voices you hear. And feel the joy.
Amin Ghaziani and Seth Abrutyn
from the editorsin brief:* “Parenting Gender, From Left to Right,” by Elena G. Van Stee. * “Crossing the Cultural Line,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “Rural Rainbows,” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Shedding the Wealth,” by Colter J. Uscola. * “A Woman Walks into a Brothel,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “Whose Parents Are Paying,” by Elena G. Van Stee. * “Status Consistency Wanted,” by Sophie X. Liu. * “23 and We,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “The Wages of Digital Emotional Labor,” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Intergenerational Costs,” by Colter J. Uscola.
q&a: “The Importance of Contexts.” Amin Ghaziani, Seth Abrutyn, and Letta Page speak with Contexts* graduate editorial board members about their experiences working on the magazine and their visions for its future.
features:* “Voice, Protest, and Democracy,” by Aidan McGarry. To be visible and recognized in public life, marginalized groups must speak up and speak out. As they articulate a collective voice through protest, these groups lay claim to belonging and enrich democracy, an institution that frequently excludes them. The case of LGBTIQ activism in India demonstrates that protest is the realization of political agency. * “Daring To Feel Joy,” by Celeste Vaughan Curington. Intersectional oppression, or the combined effects of various kinds of discrimination and exclusion, is a fact of life for Cabo Verdean service and care workers in Lisbon, Portugal. But so, too, is joy. By cultivating Black joy within counterspaces of belonging, these women reveal a kaleidoscope of futures worth fighting for. * “To the Moon: Hype and Start-Up Work,” by Patrick Sheehan. When every day on the job is do-or-die, employees are left gasping for air. If they catch a breath, they are revived with the potent oxygen that fuels start-ups: hype. Go inside Silicon Valley’s Brainshare, where the young men who pile in are not far-out believers but children of the upper middle classes with outsized expectations for work. * “The Failure To Regulate Airbnb,” by Sarah Warren. The rapid global explosion in short-term rentals has left cities, armed only with policies related to hotels and permanent housing, scrambling. An analysis of Airbnb’s data-hoarding practices helps identify the mechanisms underlying more and less effective regulatory responses in two American cities.
in pictures:* “Public Pinball.” Ryan Banfi on the enduring appeals of the humble pinball machine.
culture: “Water, Water, Everywhere… But for Whom?” Bandana Purkayastha and Rianka Roy on scarcity and supply in a thirsty world. * “Wakanda Forever*: Afrofuturism, Healing, and Creating a New Diaspora.” Myron T. Strong, Jennifer Lê, Kyle Clark Echeverria, Zaynab Daughtery, Ayanna Hasselberger, Francis Phillip, Calise Harper, and Yakhare Gueye on an Afrofuturistic vision of vulnerability and resilience.
trends:* “Job Preferences, Motherhood, and the Gender Pay Gap.” Lawrence M. Eppard, Annie Linker, Madison Laughman, and Katie Bonomo on global pay gaps. * “Considering Small-City Gentrification,” Zhe Zhang, Shelley M. Kimelberg, and Robert M. Adelman on underexamined urban change. * “Who Should Provide Health-Related Services?” Julia Kay Wolf and Lynne S. Cossman on local preferences.
books: “Social Capital Is Not Enough: How Adults Exacerbate Teen Troubles When They Think They Are Solving Them.” Allison J. Pugh on Life Under Pressure and Nice Is Not Enough*.
policy brief:* “A Face-to-Face Approach to Preventing Campus Sexual Assault.” Laura Beth Nielsen on balancing response with prevention efforts. * “Complicating Clery.” Ashley C. Rondini on the complexities of campus sexual assault data.
one thing i know:* “Everyday Status Really Does Matter.” Cecilia L. Ridgeway on identity, status, and social inequalities.
What does it mean to drive an electric vehicle? For some, it may be a bold act of climate action while for others it may simply be a pragmatic cost-saving practice. In a cultural context in which these different meanings can signal divergent political outlooks, it’s incumbent upon sociologists to consider how meaning-making processes are shaping social responses to the climate crisis. That’s where a new paper in Social Forces comes in.
By tracing the material flow and meaning-making practices associated with electric vehicles from production through to consumption, Terence McDonnell, Anna Gabur, and Rachel Keynton argue that U.S. conservatives are purchasing EVs at an accelerating rate not because they’ve grown more concerned about climate change, but because they have been able to strategically redefine what an electric vehicle is. Conservative consumers focus, the authors find, on the money saved and freedom offered by driving an electric vehicle, rather than on climate change mitigation. This strategic redefinition enables conservative consumers to reaffirm their cultural identities while still engaging in a cultural practice typically associated with the “other side.”Making pitches to shift climate-related behaviors in a politically and culturally polarized country may mean adopting more than one framing.What does this tell us about the cultural politics of climate change? Most importantly, it suggests that people traditionally opposed to climate action may be very willing to engage in climate-friendly practices if they are offered up in culturally resonant ways. Making pitches to shift climate-related behaviors in a politically and culturally polarized country may mean adopting more than one framing.
Menstrual health and hygiene (MHH) are absent from both the Millennium Development Goals and the Sustainable Development Goals, which have shaped global and national-level policies for several decades. Why? In Sociology of Development, sociologist Rita Jalali examines MHH in the global health agenda, shedding light on the reasons why certain social causes receive less attention than others.
Jalali’s data come from organizational documents from the World Bank, UNICEF, UNDP, and WHO, spanning a 38-year period (1978 to 2015). Results show that none of the 114 flagship annual reports published by these organizations focused on MHH. The reason MHH was excluded from the global health agenda is its measurability—it’s hard to find measurable evidence about MHH and potential solutions for its related problems. Indeed, both academia and the public sector lack reliable measurement indicators for MHH, which obfuscates the issue and impedes advocacy work. Additionally, menstrual advocacy challenges traditional gender norms that shame menstruating bodies, resulting in some groups’ reluctance to discuss the issue in policy forums and strategic meetings.The global silence surrounding menstrual health and hygiene underscores the unintended consequences of inequality within social movements.The global silence surrounding MHH underscores the unintended consequences of inequality within social movements. The global women’s health movement, primarily led by middle-class actors, has tended to prioritize issues such as reproductive self-determination, affordable medical care, workplace safety, and freedom from violence. However, MHH concerns, which disproportionately affect women and girls from economically disadvantaged backgrounds across both high- and low-income countries, have been marginalized. Thus, beyond emphasizing the “entrenched role of unequal gender norms” and “power structures that perpetuate gender inequalities,” the neglect of MHH also highlights how poverty plays a significant role in determining access to menstrual health resources and services.
How do you choose where to go on vacation? Maybe you consult friends or family or follow the advice of a travel influencer. Or maybe you plan your trips by flipping through The New York Times Travel section. While the latter might feel like an antiquated approach for the more online among us, sociologists Hesu Yoon and Andrew McCumber argue in their new Poetics paper that elite media institutions like the NYT still play an important role in shaping our cultural imagination about faraway places.
Combining computational text and qualitative discourse techniques, Yoon and McCumber analyze over 10,000 articles published in the NYT Travel section between 2000-2019 to show how elite travel writers symbolically construct places as particular types of destinations. European destinations are widely valorized for their culture—museums, cafes, and cultural venues—while non-European countries, particularly places that experience colonization, are primarily heralded for their scenic and recreational beauty. This geographic hierarchy between cultural and natural destinations is further compounded by the tendency of writers to afford a broad definition of culture to European contexts (e.g., celebrating France’s entire cultural history) but a much narrower discussion of culture in non-European places (e.g., focusing on the food of East Asia).Elite media institutions still play an important role in shaping our cultural imagination about faraway places.While scholars have long documented how the global north and south are stratified by material outcomes like economic growth, this study demonstrates how the selective attribution of symbolic value can also retrench global hierarchies through the construction of countries as particular types of “destinations.” The patterns identified here show that global tourism is still largely experienced through a “western gaze” in which non-European nations, and nations with histories of colonialism in particular, are further marginalized based on the attractiveness of their culture as a tourism experience for the readers of the NYT.
When a friend or family member asks for money and you are unable or unwilling to help, how do you say no without damaging the relationship? A new study by Kristen McNeill and Rachael Pierotti in Socio-Economic Review investigates this universal dilemma through interviews and focus groups with factory workers in Cote d’Ivoire. The findings suggest that the practice of earmarking, or explaining that one’s money is already set aside for another purpose, can resolve this dilemma, leaving one’s savings—and the relationship—intact after a monetary ask.
In some cases, the rhetorical strategy of earmarking is deployed with all sincerity: a potential giver wants to help but genuinely feels they cannot. In other cases, when the asker is perceived as undeserving or the expense frivolous, a potential giver may fabricate an earmark as an excuse for not choosing to help. In both cases, earmarking provides a socially acceptable reason for refusal that helps maintain the relationship. Additionally, the authors demonstrate that an individual’s perception of being able to give is itself subjective. When the asker’s need is deemed sufficiently urgent and socially valued, like a medical expense, the potential giver generally feels able to give even if it means overriding an earmark.Earmarking isn’t only a strategy for saving money, it’s a strategy for saving relationships.The authors’ discovery that some earmarks are (or can be) overridden while others remain intact suggests the distinction between can’t help and won’t help is—at least when it comes to money—more complicated than it may initially appear. It also demonstrates that earmarking isn’t only a strategy for saving money, it’s a strategy for saving relationships.
Environmental dilemmas require social solutions. In North America, urbanites frequently lead the charge on environmental activism, often implicitly constructing rural people as oppositional to their goals. However, along the Aegean Coast of Turkey—a region governed by men in the mining and forestry industries—rural women have inspired positive environmental outcomes. A new study published by Nihan Bozok in Gender & Society investigates what prompted these rural women to protest deforestation.
The data for this paper comes from a decade of ethnographic research and 110 interviews with rural Turkish women. Bozok argues that women’s lives are structured by forests along the Agean Coast for three reasons: childhood memories, foraging and managing the forests, and social connections. The forests provide women with traditional lands of socialization, giving generations shared memories of foraging and learning to become stewards of nature. Deforestation risks erasing these central aspects of rural Turkish women’s lives and culture. Nature is also the epicenter of belongingness for these women, who nurtured relationships in nature while managing the land. Therefore, to lose woodlands also meant losing the ecology of their lives, the place where they felt they belonged. Collectively, for the study’s participants, defending the forests of Turkey was inseparable from fighting for themselves.By learning how to work with instead of against rural peoples, we may find new ways to sustain our planet—and our ways of life.Maybe, just maybe, our world’s most key resources include the people tied to our forests, such as these rural women in Turkey. Bozok’s work underscores how the capacity for environmental activism can come from populations that by all other indications lack power. By learning how to work with instead of against rural peoples, we may find new ways to sustain our planet—and our ways of life.
“I’m like a safety net for my family,” Amanda told me, explaining her decision to accept a job at Amazon. Her voice weighed heavy with responsibility. An Asian first-generation college student from a low-income family, Amanda considered job factors beyond personal career ambitions. While uneasy about certain aspects of the company, she knew the job would be a lifeline for her family. Their current household income was just a quarter of her starting salary.
Stories like Amanda’s reflect the complex career decisions facing students at elite U.S. universities, where a narrow set of professional career pathways can seem predetermined. At Amanda’s highly selective private university and others in its category, landing a prestigious, high-paying role at a company like Goldman Sachs, McKinsey, or Google is commonly seen as the next rung on the ladder to success. But behind this pre-professional culture, students and faculty are raising important questions about the costs of pursuing these well-trodden pathways. What does career “success” really mean, especially for upwardly mobile, first-generation, low-income (FGLI) students?At elite U.S. universities, a narrow set of professional career pathways can seem predetermined.My recent Social Problems article explores these questions through in-depth interviews with 62 students attending “Eastwood” (a pseudonym), a highly selective private university in the United States. My sample included Asian, Black, and White students from first-generation, low-income (FGLI) and middle-class backgrounds. This diverse mix of students allowed me to examine how their racial and socioeconomic backgrounds shaped their career decisions.
At Eastwood, the majority of undergraduates pursue careers in finance, consulting, and tech. However, when I talked about these career pathways with my interviewees, I noticed that many responded using the term “selling out.” As I analyzed their responses to understand what they meant by this term, I found that the concerns they raised fell into two broad categories: “contingent objections” and “linked obligations.”The concerns students raised about “selling out” fell into two broad categories: “contingent objections” and “linked obligations.”Contingent Objections
When students talked about careers in finance, consulting, and tech, they raised two types of contingent objections, qualms with these careers based on noneconomic values. Regardless of their racial and class background, many students expressed different personal priorities, including concerns about work-life balance and personal fulfillment in these high-stakes careers. They feared the long hours and intense corporate culture would compromise their well-being.
Some students, especially those from FGLI backgrounds, also voiced contingent objections on ethical grounds. Mark, a White FGLI student, didn’t hesitate when I asked if he’d consider a job in these sectors. He immediately responded, “No, not at all. I think that corporate America gets away with a lot of exploitation, and I don’t think a lot of consulting careers are a net benefit in this world.” However, for FGLI students, these objections typically came with a significant cost: by rejecting work in these sectors, they risked sacrificing their future earning potential. While some FGLI students pursued these pathways as a fast track to upward mobility, many FGLI students rejected them on ethical grounds.
Linked Obligations
Some students’ career choices were influenced by what I call linked obligations—a deep sense of responsibility to others. Asian and Black students, regardless of class background, frequently expressed a duty to lift up their racial groups through their career decisions. FGLI Asian and Black students cited the additional goal of contributing financially to their families as a key factor driving their choices.Some students’ career choices were influenced by what I call linked obligations—a deep sense of responsibility to others.Amanda’s account illustrates the emotional weight of these obligations. Although Amanda perceived Amazon’s profit-driven motives as problematic, she knew her family’s financial security depended on her. “I’m fully going into tech because I need to be stable and provide my family with that financial support,” she explained. Given the impact her salary could have on her family’s financial situation, she felt the sacrifice was necessary. “My mom, I know she’s not trying to pressure me,” Amanda said, “but after graduation, I’ll go home, and I’ll live with my family and pay the rent and help them financially.”
For students like Amanda, linked obligations meant sacrificing some personal values to meet family needs. These decisions reveal how career choices are not just about individual success—for some, they are deeply relational, shaped by students’ connections to their families and communities.
Redefining College Success Post-Graduation
As institutions like Eastwood celebrate First-Generation College Student Day on November 8th, it’s time to ask a deeper question: What does true support look like for FGLI students after they leave the classroom? My conversations with students underscore that supporting students like Mark and Amanda will require a broader definition of success.
The future of higher education lies not just in college access but in how well we equip students to align their career paths with their values—especially those who face additional pressures because of their racial and class backgrounds. Supporting students beyond graduation requires understanding the moral compasses they follow, which are often shaped by their obligations to family, community, and the broader world. When I asked students how the university could better support them, several mentioned providing stronger pathways for opportunities beyond the finance, consulting, and tech sectors instead of letting the major companies in these areas dictate the rules of the game. In the end, post-graduation college success should not be only defined by students’ starting salaries but by their ability to choose careers that allow them to honor their own sense of purpose. Higher education institutions need to rise to this challenge by transforming how we guide students toward their future selves.Post-graduation college success should not be only defined by’ starting salaries but by students’ ability to choose careers that allow them to honor their own sense of purpose.
Joyce Kim is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. She studies inequality and mobility, focusing on culture, education, and work.
Say you want to buy or sell some secondhand fashion online. To determine whether the platform you intend to use is legitimate, you might look to its payment system. How does the app ensure secure transactions? Both buyers and sellers are likely to be relieved when an app provides an escrow service—that is, when a buyer purchases an item, the app steps in to process the payment and safeguard both parties by securely holding the buyer’s payment. But things seem to work differently in cryptomarkets used by people trading in illegal drugs. A new paper by Filippo Andrei and colleagues in the European Sociological Review indicates that, when it comes to drug markets, escrow systems undermine rather than enhance trust.
With a dataset of auction listings and transactions from a cryptomarket between March 2015 and January 2017, the authors find that escrow is associated with reduced sales of drugs, quantified by the volume of sales per auction listing. The authors propose two possible mechanisms for this inversion. First, escrow is associated with increased prices, which may disincentivize buyers and lead to a preference for advance payment transactions. Second, escrow may backfire by crowding out trust between traders; analyzing user reviews, the authors found that feedback posted after advance payment transactions was more positive than feedback posted after escrow transactions.Despite the cryptomarket’s technological advances, these findings suggest that drug users’ communities rely on informal social control online as well as off.Despite the cryptomarket’s technological advances, these findings suggest that drug users’ communities rely on informal social control online as well as off. Escrow, as a potentially incompatible control mechanism, ends up crowding out trusting and reciprocal behaviors between traders—a fact that may aid law enforcement agencies hoping to tackle the dark web’s illicit drug trade.
As the housing crisis continues to affect millions of renters around the world, scholars tend to focus on urban areas. But people rent in rural places, too. That’s why a recent study by sociologists Carl Gershenson and Matthew Desmond focuses directly on the ways the rental housing crisis is affecting rural Americans.
Published in Rural Sociology, this study offers the first comprehensive analysis of evictions in rural America, where the number of renters has steadily risen in recent decades. Using data from Princeton’s Eviction Lab, the authors analyze 11 years of eviction data in rural counties (totaling more than 220,000 evictions per year). Their findings reveal important trends that fall along racial and class lines. For instance, while the majority of evictions affect White families, the rural eviction rate is four times higher among Black rural renters, and eviction filing rates are highest in heavily Black counties. In majority-Hispanic counties, lower eviction rates are offset by higher rates of poor-quality informal housing options like RVs and off-grid shelters.This study reveals the extent to which the housing crisis has infiltrated rural communities and how many of the racial and class patterns documented in urban areas are playing out in rural regions.This study reveals, for the first time, the extent to which the housing crisis has infiltrated rural communities. It also showcases how many of the racial and class patterns documented in urban areas are playing out in rural regions. Not only does this demonstrate the need for housing policy actors to better take regions into account, but it also drives home the need for more sociological inquiry into rural life.
Elites often strive to justify their success by invoking the concept of merit. But how do they define merit? According to a new article by Sam Friedman and colleagues, the answer varies across countries.
Published in Social Forces, the study draws from 71 interviews with elites in the United Kingdom and Denmark to identify national differences in success narratives. Elites in the United Kingdom defined merit as innate talent, attributing their success to qualities such as intelligence, creativity, or good judgment. In contrast, Danish elites defined merit as hard work, emphasizing their dedication, accumulated expertise, and contributions to civic society. Despite these differences, their success narratives shared a key quality: both groups portrayed themselves as unstrategic, downplaying calculated planning and self-promotion and instead insisting that others had spontaneously recognized and rewarded their positive qualities.How we define merit has implications for understanding and addressing inequality.How we define merit has implications for understanding and addressing inequality. When merit is perceived as innate, inequality may appear inevitable—the implication is that some people are simply born with less creativity or good judgment. Defining merit as hard work offers a more hopeful narrative, yet this perspective can lay blame on those perceived as unsuccessful, implying that they did not work hard enough. Ultimately, the study shows how the idea of merit is interpreted differently based on national cultures, yet similarly justifies inequality.
We are thrilled to welcome Musa al-Gharbi to the Contexts blog to celebrate the publication of his new book, We Have Never Been Woke: The Cultural Contradictions of a New Elite. In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Musa to explore the emergence of a new “woke” elite and the hidden ways they actively benefit from and perpetuate the inequalities they vocally oppose. They also discuss Musa’s commitment to avoiding academic echo chambers. You can watch the full interview above and find lightly edited excerpts from their conversation below.
Elena van Stee: Give us an introduction to the book. Tell us, what’s your central argument, and what are the key insights that you hope readers will take away?
Musa al-Gharbi: So, the puzzle the book is trying to figure out is that starting in the period between the world wars and accelerating in the 1970s, there were these shifts in the global economic order that favored people who work in the symbolic professions—people like academics and journalists, finance people and so on and so forth. People who manipulate symbols and data and ideas instead of providing physical goods and services to people.
One thing that’s interesting about people like us is that, from the outset, a lot of our professions have been oriented around altruism and the common good. And so, what you might expect is that as people like us have increased in power—as we’ve gained more power over institutions, over the functioning of the government, over political parties, and as we have more wealth concentrated in our hands—what you might expect is that inequalities would be shrinking.
If you look at what has actually happened over this period as we’ve increased in power and influence, we’ve seen growing inequalities, economic stagnation, stagnation in terms of innovation, growing polarization, declining trust in institutions, and increasing institutional dysfunction. And so, the question that the book is trying to wrestle with is, “What’s going on here? Why do we see what we actually see instead of what we said we would see—and hoped we would see?”
The tweet-length answer to that question is that while it’s absolutely true that symbolic capitalists, the name that I give to these knowledge economy professionals, are deeply committed to social justice, we also very much want to be elites. We think it’s appropriate and normal—and we aggressively try to make it the case—that people take our opinions and preferences more seriously than those of a clerk at Stop & Shop, or a mechanic, or whatever. We think it is right, or appropriate, that our words carry more weight, that our preferences carry more weight. We think we deserve a higher standard of living than most other people. We want our children to have the same standard of living or even better.
And these two drives are in tension, right? The desire to be an elite and the desire to help the disadvantaged are in fundamental tension. You can’t really be an “egalitarian social climber,” right? It’s a contradiction in terms, and this tension has basically defined the symbolic professions from the beginning, including all the way through the present. And so that’s the short answer.
EVS: I want to ask you more about your approach to public engagement and to engaging readers with a wide variety of viewpoints. How do you speak so that people can hear you and are receptive to what you have to say?
MaG: I should say that when I first started writing for the public, I pretty much only wrote for left-leaning outlets. I didn’t even try to write for other outlets. […] When I guessed in my mind who would want to hear what I have to say as a Black Muslim intellectual, I thought, “Oh, most certainly only other people on the left.” But then I had this realization—which was motivated by being canceled by Fox News. I had this realization that if I want to convince people not to bomb Syria, it doesn’t do a lot [of good] if I’m writing in Al Jazeera to people who already think that bombing Syria is a bad idea—if I go preach to the choir, and we all go, “Yeah, yeah, we’re smart. We’re right.” That doesn’t do much. If you have any hope that your writing might in some way contribute to people not bombing Syria, you have to go to the people who want to bomb Syria and explain to those people, in a way that they’ll find persuasive, why bombing Syria is a bad idea.
And in order to do that, you have to speak to people in terms of their own values, their own narratives, and their own frames of reference. You have to speak to what they actually care about, what they’re actually driven by, and produce a picture of the world that they can recognize even if they don’t fully agree with it. Doing that takes some work, and it’s not as satisfying as doing the kind of cheerleading “Rah, rah, my own team is so great” kind of thing. Again, if we want to stop people from bombing Syria, we need to go to the people who want to bomb Syria.That’s obvious, but almost no one does it. And part of the reason why we [sociologists] don’t do that is because it’s just not satisfying in the same way. Although, there are other satisfactions: you can sometimes see people changing their minds. How often do you get to see that when you’re preaching to the choir? Never. And then I think the other thing that really inhibits a lot of sociologists from reaching across lines, reaching people who don’t already agree, is precisely the fact that you have to go where the fish are.“…[Y]ou have to speak to people in terms of their own values, their own narratives, and their own frames of reference. You have to speak to what they actually care about, what they’re actually driven by, and produce a picture of the world that they can recognize even if they don’t fully agree with it. If I want to convince conservatives of something, I have to go to conservative outlets and spaces and talk to them.”
If I want to convince conservatives of something, I have to go to conservative outlets and spaces and talk to them. You can see this when you look at my own publication record. I have bylines in The Guardian, The Nation, The New York Times, and The Atlantic, but I also have bylines in National Review and The American Conservative. I think a lot of sociologists would rather their work be completely sterile than have bylines with their name on them in The American Conservative. They would rather not have an impact than—God forbid—have any of their colleagues even possibly perceive that they might be a right-winger.
I think this kind of concern with purity—with how other people perceive you in terms of having the right alignments, or whatever—these social concerns that we have about how our colleagues and peers will perceive us often prevent us from doing the kinds of things that would actually move the meter on issues we care about. If we think the work we do matters to solving social problems—if we want to lift people out of poverty, get people out of prison, and so on and so forth—we have to go and try our best to reach people who disagree with us and to convince policymakers and other stakeholders. But I think there are social dynamics within our profession that often discourage people from doing that when they otherwise could.
Musa al-Gharbi is an Assistant Professor in the School of Communication and Journalism at Stony Brook University. He is the author of We Have Never Been Woke: The Cultural Contradictions of a New Elite. Elena G. van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. The blog editor for Contexts, she studies culture and inequality, focusing on families, higher education, and the transition to adulthood.
During a recent interview with conservative commentator Hugh Hewitt, former president Donald Trump weighed in on California water policy. Trump lamented that the state had rejected his proposal to redirect water “down from the north” because its Democratic leaders were “trying to protect a tiny, tiny little fish.”
The “tiny little fish” in question was the Delta Smelt, an endangered species found only in the northeastern part of the San Francisco Bay. Though Trump’s political opponents were quick to paint the above statement as a “confused rant,” it wasn’t the first time Trump had taken issue with this little fish. In 2020, Trump complained to Sean Hannity of Fox News that California had to “ration” water because the state was pouring its supply into the sea to “take care of certain little tiny fish.” And back in 2016, then-candidate Trump cited protections of a “certain kind of three-inch fish” to argue that there was “no drought” in California (which was experiencing the height of the region’s worst megadrought in 1,200 years).Why the big fuss about this tiny fish?Conservatives have lodged other fishy complaints against the Delta Smelt. Hannity devoted an entire episode of his popular primetime television show to this tiny fish, attributing “incredible suffering” to the government’s decision to “put the interest of a two-inch Delta Smelt… before the people of California.” Sarah Palin summed up her feelings about the Delta Smelt as follows: “Where I come from, a three-inch fish, we call that bait. There is no need to destroy people’s lives over bait.”
Why the big fuss about this tiny fish? According to the dominant journalistic framing, the species is politically explosive because California’s limited water supply is a zero-sum game: more water for the Smelt means less water for the people of California. Yet my research reveals the limits of this explanation, demonstrating that the Delta Smelt controversy is better explained by national partisan divisions than by a regional water struggle.
In a study recently published in the American Journal of Cultural Sociology, I combine quantitative analyses of hydrological data and measures of social interest in the Delta Smelt with the qualitative analysis of 1,256 opinion articles to show that conflicts over the distribution of water fail to explain how this tiny fish gained such heightened political salience. Rather, strategic actors that I call “division entrepreneurs”—in this case, right-wing elites at the intersection of partisan media and electoral politics—have opportunistically seized on the Delta Smelt and strategically mobilized it as a divisive issue in an already polarized public sphere.
The Delta Smelt’s controversial status, that is, has less to do with its (modest) effects on water policy than with its potent symbolism for all that is supposedly wrong with California, liberals, and environmentalism on the national political stage. Negative opinion articles about the Delta Smelt were disproportionately published in media outlets targeting audiences outside of California (the only state affected by water regulations protecting the Delta Smelt) and were often embedded in discussions of hot-button partisan issues completely unrelated to water regulations, such as abortion and LGBTQ+ rights. Thus, the Smelt became an effective political tool for division entrepreneurs to foster resentment toward California’s leaders, policies, and liberal-leaning populace, regardless of whether any water regulations protecting the species had taken effect in a given year.From a water policy perspective, conservative politicians and pundits’ fixation on the Delta Smelt makes little sense. But understood through a political lens, the fish focus is anything but “confused.”Still, one might wonder why conservative leaders have directed so much vitriol toward the Delta Smelt specifically when it is not the only endangered species that affects the flow of water to California’s farms and cities. After all, the practical implications of protecting Chinook salmon and the Delta Smelt are virtually indistinguishable. I found that when voicing opposition to environmental protections, opinion writers were much more likely to mention the Delta Smelt in isolation, conveniently ignoring the plight of its larger and more majestic cousin (writers in favor of protecting the Delta Smelt, on the other hand, tend to mention the two species together). The contrasting reactions to the two fish, and the frequent usage of descriptors like “tiny” or “little,” suggest that the Delta Smelt’s small size and lack of charisma made it the perfect icon to drum up right-wing resentment, allowing it to become a divisive cultural object, or what I call a “wedge.”
From a water policy perspective, conservative politicians and pundits’ fixation on the Delta Smelt makes little sense. But understood through a political lens, the fish focus is anything but “confused.” Right-wing elites’ repeated invocations of the Delta Smelt communicate the often implicit, but politically powerful message that “they” (in this case, liberal environmentalists in faraway cities) care less about “you” (ordinary hardworking Americans) than a tiny fish.
Understanding the politicization of the Delta Smelt can help us make sense of other political divisions over the natural environment and other social problems. Many disagreements that appear to be about something quite material, concrete, or scientific—for example, water, energy, or climate change—hinge instead on emotionally evocative stories that help pit “us” against “them.” Knowing this, there is power in refusing to take the bait.
Caleb Scoville is in the Department of Sociology at Tufts University. He studies the politics of environmental knowledge and the dynamics of environmental controversies.
Contexts is trying to stay cool as the summer sizzles, blending dreams with reality. The essays in our new issue, Dream Horizons, are a panacea for the heat and your wanderlust. Whether you’re taking the family on a road trip, looking for a beach getaway, or just enjoying the sun, you’ll find plenty to ponder in these pages.
At its core, this issue reminds us of the feelings we felt as kids on the last day of school before summer break. Those dreams were sometimes deceiving, and reality stark, but the two blended together into potential and possibility. For instance, our first feature on queer carnival events highlights the capacity we humans have for building community in surprising places. What began as an effort to create opportunities for joy in the face of discrimination became the hottest ticket in town for everyone. These inclusive events have achieved what their mainstream counterparts haven’t: a celebration of growing diversity across the U.S. and a harbinger of change toward a better future. Indeed, it is this very message about hope through creativity and resilience that rings clearly throughout the issue, anchored by our One Thing I Know essay in which Verta Taylor contextualizes the losses and gains that LGBTQ+ communities have experienced—and persisted through—in a volatile political climate.
Dreams of a better, more just society bind together our other summer features: the first on race in “colorblind” Sweden, the second on institutional procedures behind jury selection in the U.S., and the third on trichotillomania, a body-focused repetitive behavior disorder. In the first article, a unique sociological lens shines light on the challenges people of color face in societies that prohibit the use of race as a policy solution to preventing racism. While the piece reveals the barriers of such policies, it also makes the issues visible and, therefore, treatable. In the second essay, the same light is cast on how the bedrock of the U.S. justice system, the jury, is chosen and the role race plays in the process. While much work remains to be done to create a truly equitable legal system, we see examples of race-conscious decision-making and a path forward for structuring practices that would continue to chip away at lingering historical biases. Our final feature is on trichotillomania. An often-invisible axis of inequality—disability and the debilitating stigma that can surround it—is made visible through sociological inquiry. Again, the essay’s ability to shine a light on an otherwise hidden barrier to inclusion creates a sense of hope that the dignity all people deserve will be bestowed through empathy.The delicate balance between present realities and hopes for a better future present and re-present throughout the issue.The delicate balance between present realities and hopes for a better future present and re-present throughout the issue. Our photo essay illustrates the everyday reality that Afghani and Pakistani refugees, fleeing political and social unrest wrought by the return of the Taliban, experience in Mexican asylum centers. Their stories highlight the suboptimal conditions that mark life in the present and dreams of a better life that feels achingly close. Those dreams are enough to keep people going, even if they sometimes disappoint us. But, as one of our Culture pieces illustrates, we are deeply motivated by the futures we imagine ourselves inhabiting. In short, these pieces show the role dreams play in social and economic mobility, and the real-life sacrifices people will make to bring their dreams to fruition.
That’s not all! Other unique perspectives on contemporary topics in this issue include Victor Ray reflecting on fine dining and the class politics we too often ignore. For decades, cooking shows have brought haute cuisine into our living rooms, chef-driven projects have come to dot the social landscape of our cities, and shows like “The Bear” have elevated fine dining to a familiar if aspirational cultural object. Sociological considerations, you see, are always timely.
The same could be said about the dynamism of youth culture, particularly when it comes to slang. One trends piece in this issue demonstrates the explosion of new terms to describe the dating scene for Gen Z and younger Millennials—and how social media contributes to its rapid diffusion across the country.
No matter your summer dreams and realities, we hope this issue offers an island of warmth and reprieve. Being human means longing for the horizon, hoping and working for the promise of a brighter future.
Summer 2024 Table of Contents
Seth Abrutyn and Amin Ghaziani
from the editorsin brief: “Making Merit,” by Elena G. Van Stee. * “A Broader Look at the Housing Crisis,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “Saving Money, Saving Relationships,” by Elena G. Van Stee. * “Are You Holding?” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Travel and The Times*,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “Paying Attention. Period.” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Our Forests, Ourselves,” by Colter J. Uscola. * “Same Behavior, Different Meaning,” by Parker Muzzerall.
q&a: “Making Hard Things Look Easy.” Amin Ghaziani interviews urbanist Richard Florida, author of The Rise of the Creative Class*, about the skills needed to communicate big ideas beyond academia.
features: “Recognizing Queer Citizens of Carnival City,” by Amy L. Stone. At annual, citywide festivals like Fiestas in the U.S. Southwest and Mardi Gras or Carnival in the South, LGBTQ events are often the hottest tickets in town. This recognition and celebration, in turn, is a key part of securing full citizenship—the sense of being an important, unattenuated member of society—*for LGBTQ community members. * “Talking about Race in a Race-Taboo Land,” by Beiyi Hu. Race is considered a taboo subject in Sweden, both at the governmental and individual levels, yet racism persists. This bind creates serious difficulties for ethnic and racial minorities, hindering efforts to make their experiences known, challenge the ethno-racial status quo, and build anti-racist alliances. * “Examining Prospective Jurors,” by Matthew P. Fox and Steven E. Clayman. Trial by jury remains the symbolic center of the U.S. justice system. Here, readers bear witness to the process of voir dire, or jury questioning, and efforts to identify racial bias. The problem? Racial prejudice itself is taboo: jurors are reluctant to admit it, and judges and attorneys are reluctant to ask about it. * “Making Yourself Ugly,” by Andrea D. Kelley. Body-focused repetitive behaviors are DSM-classified as obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorders, but sufferers are frequently treated as being to blame for making themselves “ugly.” The case of trichotillomania reveals the stigma involved in “violating” beauty norms and the work people do to conceal both the effects and the cause of their deviance.
in pictures:* “Seeing Migration and Border PAR.” Nancy Rios-Contreras on Afghan and Pakistani refugees’ transit experiences.
culture:* “The Class Politics of Fine Dining.” Victor Ray on serving up sociology. * “What Shapes Our Dreams for the Future?” Karen A. Cerulo on social identity and realizing imagined futures. * “Hotpot as a Reflection of Societal Changes.” Ellen T. Meiser on a communal concoction’s individualization.
trends:* “It’s Still Complicated.” Gabrielle Juteau, Jaden Loo, and Susan L. Brown on the terms of modern dating. * “Temporally Differentiated Patterns of Gun Violence Across Urban Space.” Reginald A. Byron on the daily rhythms of urban shootings.
books: “Sentinels of the Color Line?” A.K.M. Skarpelis on Refashioning Race. * “Medical Prestige Through Collaborative Competition.” Colter J. Uscola on Medical Authority*.
policy brief:* “Beyond ‘YIMBY.’” John N. Robinson III on reimagining affordable housing production.
one thing i know:* “We Will Survive.” Verta Taylor on persisting in the face of LGBTQ rights retrenchment.
We are thrilled to welcome Amanda Cheong to the Contexts Blog in celebration of her recent Publication Award from the American Sociological Association’s Section on Public Sociology and Sociological Practice (SPSS). In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Amanda about her award-winning feature article, partnership with the Latin American Legal Defense and Education Fund, and experience translating research to public audiences.
Read “How Driver’s Licenses Matter for Undocumented Immigrants” (from our Summer 2021 issue) here.
Elena van Stee: Hi, Amanda! The Contexts team is thrilled to celebrate your recent SPSS Publication Award. Let’s introduce you to our readers: who are you, where are you, and what do you study?
Amanda Cheong: Thank you so much, Elena! I’m excited that this article is being recognized and grateful for the opportunity to chat with you about it. I’m an Assistant Professor of Sociology at the University of British Columbia in my hometown of Vancouver, Canada. In much of my research, I collaborate with stateless, undocumented, and refugee communities to understand how legal status and documents shape their everyday lives. This work is not just an intellectual preoccupation, but is deeply personal, as it’s inspired by my own family’s experiences with statelessness, racial discrimination, and migration.“This work is not just an intellectual preoccupation, but is deeply personal, as it’s inspired by my own family’s experiences with statelessness, racial discrimination, and migration.”EVS: Tell us more about the Latin American Legal Defense and Education Fund (LALDEF). How did you connect with this organization, and what has the partnership looked like?
AC: I’d be happy to! LALDEF is a grassroots non-governmental organization serving low-income immigrants in Mercer County, New Jersey. I first encountered LALDEF way back during my second year of grad school at Princeton University. I had the opportunity to work as a teaching assistant for my dear mentor Patricia Fernández-Kelly’s undergraduate course on the sociology of race and ethnicity. This was a very special experience for me because I helped coordinate the course’s community-based learning initiative, in which students partnered with LALDEF to conduct research on various dimensions of immigrants’ integration experiences in the local community. I was so inspired by LALDEF’s mission—specifically, their innovative efforts to remedy undocumented immigrants’ challenges accessing official identification—that I applied for a Community Action Research Initiative grant from the American Sociological Association to continue working with them on research aimed at understanding and improving the well-being of the immigrant communities they serve. To my great excitement, our application was funded!
EVS: Introduce us to the feature essay that received this honor, “How Driver’s Licenses Matter for Undocumented Immigrants.” What do you hope readers take away from this piece?
AC: The issue we’re addressing in this article is that, in the majority of states across the United States, undocumented immigrants are not allowed to obtain driver’s licenses. In a country in which nearly 9 in 10 American adults are licensed to drive, not having a license poses a lot of challenges to one’s day-to-day living. It is practically a rite of passage into adulthood in American culture: driving a car gives you freedom, autonomy, and mobility.
LALDEF was a member of Let’s Drive NJ, a coalition of organizations advocating for legislative changes to expand access to driver’s licenses in New Jersey. In 2019, after our fieldwork was completed, New Jersey became the 15th state in the country to permit qualified drivers to obtain licenses regardless of immigration status.
What we observed prior to this change was that immigrants’ voices and perspectives were not adequately represented in political debates around whether undocumented immigrants should have the right to driver’s licenses. What is the lived, day-to-day experience of being an adult in the United States who wants to obtain a driver’s license but is legally unable to do so? What impacts does that deprivation have on various dimensions of immigrants’ well-being and integration?
We interviewed 21 immigrants living in the Mercer County area. They came from Guatemala, Costa Rica, Brazil, the Dominican Republic, and Honduras. What we found was that being “undocumented” in the United States has concrete, far-reaching consequences. For the immigrants we talked to, the literal deprivation of official identification below the federal level had multiple negative impacts on their everyday lives. More than just the denial of permission to operate a motor vehicle, immigrants—over and above the risks and challenges of living without authorized status—are deprived of recognition as autonomous individuals and constrained in their ability to contribute on economic, social, and civil levels.“More than just the denial of permission to operate a motor vehicle, immigrants… are deprived of recognition as autonomous individuals and constrained in their ability to contribute on economic, social, and civil levels.”Immigrants spoke of hardships such as being unable to get to work on time if alternative transportation arrangements fell through or being stuck in bad jobs because they were so reliant on their employers to be able to get to work. Parents were unable to spend as much time with their children or participate in their school or extracurricular activities because these hours were instead spent stuck in public transport. Essential activities such as opening a bank account, applying for a credit card, going to the hospital, or even borrowing a book from the library require proof of identification—immigrants found themselves shut out of public life in the United States.
The bottom line is that immigrants want to be active, contributing members of their local communities, but the deprivation of driver’s licenses poses a major barrier. Expanding access to driver’s licenses is, therefore, good not only for immigrants but also for the communities in which they live.
As we detail in our article, there is a lot that states and municipal governments can do, even when immigration reform is stalled at the federal level. States can implement legislative changes to accept a wider range of documentary evidence of identity and residency for driver’s licenses. Local jurisdictions could consider institutionalizing local forms of identification, such as municipal ID cards or community-based ID programs (such as LALDEF’s innovative Mercer County Area Community ID card). These are practical measures that would make a huge difference for the inclusion of immigrants, their families, and other marginalized populations.
EVS: Why did you want to publish your ideas with Contexts?
AC: This is a project that is primarily driven by the policy and advocacy priorities, but the findings also have important theoretical implications that we knew would be of interest to migration scholars and political sociologists. I have long been a fan of the mission of Contexts, and we thought our project would find a good home here, where our sociological research could be mobilized to reach wider public audiences.
EVS: Do you have any advice for other sociologists interested in writing for a public audience?
AC: Doing community-based research has reinforced my awareness of the immense privilege I hold as an academic. This approach reminds me of the importance of sharing both the capacity for scholarly knowledge creation and platforms for its dissemination. I feel fortunate to have these privileges, though, at times, I find this responsibility intimidating! I think it’s important to be accountable to the communities that we engage in our research, and one way we can do this is by working in collaboration with them during the different stages of the research process—from design to data collection, analysis, and writing. Going back to what I said about sometimes feeling intimidated about sharing my work, whether that be in more traditional scholarly or more public-facing venues, I find a lot of comfort—and more importantly, motivation and purpose—when I know that my scholarly voice is not just my own, but is being shared with stakeholders whose perspectives, experiences, and knowledge urgently deserve to be heard.“I find a lot of comfort—and more importantly, motivation and purpose—when I know that my scholarly voice is not just my own, but is being shared with stakeholders whose perspectives, experiences, and knowledge urgently deserve to be heard.”EVS: What’s next for you?
AC: Mainly, I’m working on a book, Omitted Lives, which is based on in-depth ethnographic fieldwork that I conducted with stateless, undocumented, and legally marginalized families in Malaysia. Thematically, the book is similar to the Contexts article in that I am focusing on the at-times mortal consequences of not having the basic identity documents that make everyday life possible, and yet that many of us take for granted. Stay tuned!
Amanda R. Cheong is in the Department of Sociology at the University of British Columbia. She works with undocumented, stateless, and refugee communities to research the impacts of citizenship and legal status on people’s lives. Elena G. van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. The blog editor for Contexts, she studies culture and inequality, focusing on families, education, and young adulthood.
Imagine waking up one day to another you. Instead of a physical clone, though, the new you is a digital doppelganger who has taken control of your credit card and locked you out of all of your accounts. While the experience of identity theft may feel stranger than fiction, for the millions of Americans who have their identities stolen each year, the consequences are all too real. Chief among these consequences is the economic insecurity that comes from having one’s personal data compromised. As a new study by sociologist Jordan Brensinger demonstrates, this insecurity makes an individual-level financial crisis a sociological one, too.
Published in the American Sociological Review, Brensinger’s article argues that the experience of economic insecurity from identity theft is shaped by breaches in trust across three levels of social life. These include interpersonal trust breaches between individuals and other members of their social networks, like friends and family; organizational trust breaches between individuals and responsible institutions, like banks and businesses; and systemic breaches between individuals and social structures, like class and race.The experience of economic insecurity from identity theft is shaped by breaches in trust across three levels of social life.By using this framework in a qualitative analysis of the identity theft resolution process, Brensinger finds that, in the wake of a personal data breach, victims describe identity theft as a breach in trust, but their attribution of blame is sharply patterned by race and class. Low-income people and people of color in Brensinger’s study reported feeling “taken advantage of” and tended to be suspicious of their personal networks, whereas middle-class and upper-income and White people tended to feel as though organizations had “failed” them and demanded increased institutional protections.
Brensinger’s findings suggest that the ways people interpret the experience of identity theft and how they attempt to mitigate against future risk threaten to entrench existing inequalities. By creating mistrust among the personal networks of low-income and people of color, identity theft may work to alienate these groups from the sources of informal assistance that they often rely on to navigate an economic system stacked against them. At the same time, by demanding protection from organizations, middle- and upper-class victims may force those organizations to further prioritize their needs over those of less advantaged groups.
We are thrilled to welcome Anthony Abraham Jack to the Contexts blog to celebrate the publication of his new book, Class Dismissed: When Colleges Ignore Inequality and Students Pay the Price. In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Tony about the unequal world college students inhabited before, during, and since the COVID-19 pandemic. They also discuss Tony’s dedication to making his research findings accessible to broad audiences. You can watch the full interview above and find lightly edited excerpts from their conversation below.
Elena van Stee: To start, I want to pose a question to you that I know you’ve posed to many students throughout this study: I want you to return to the morning of March 10, 2020. Where were you when you received the notification that Harvard was asking students to leave campus? And what was your reaction?
Anthony Abraham Jack: I was on campus because that’s where I lived at the time. I was a faculty fellow in one of the undergraduate houses. And I just remember waking up and seeing that email, and I was just like, “It’s here.” I was just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What was going to happen? What provisions were actually going to be provided for students? Yeah, it was a hard day because I knew it was the right decision, but I also knew it was going to be hard for so many who are already dealing with so much.
EVS: How did your initial concern turn into this formal research project?
AAJ: I was actually going to be working on a book about work among college students—and then COVID hit. So it was a pivot, actually. With the backing of the Harvard Radcliffe Institute and Harvard & The Legacy of Slavery, I was able to interview Black, White, Latino, Native, Asian, and mixed students. I just set out to interview as many students as possible, and my team and I interviewed 125 undergraduates. Sometimes the interview had to be done over two or three sessions; we really just dug into their experience. It was eye-opening and disheartening to sit with students for hours on end and hear about their experiences. It was important for me that this book is not just about COVID-19 but about the very inequalities that COVID-19 exacerbated and that universities were ignoring. So much of this book was about, “Okay, take me through the year or two before COVID hit. Take me to that moment and bring me up to the present day.” I wanted to understand how the inequalities outside the college gates pierce the “college bubble”—a term that I think we should retire.
EVS: The narrative of Class Dismissed is really beautiful; it reads like a story—and that brings me to another question I wanted to ask you, which is: who’s your audience? The narrative strikes me as not-your-average-interview-study.
AAJ: Should I take that as a compliment?
EVS: Oh, it’s the highest compliment.
AAJ: Sometimes I get in trouble for this, but articles and books are different. When I write an article, I know I’m speaking to other academics—specifically, social scientists interested in inequality. When I’m writing a book, my first audience, to be honest, is the students. I’ll never forget the early moments of sharing my work, when students would say, “Your work is the first thing that I’ve read about me that didn’t make me feel bad,” or “Your work helped me come to terms with what was going on in my life,” or “You gave me a vocabulary to talk about my experience.” I will always and forever, when I write about education, put students as the first and primary audience.
I think we should write books to be consumed. That means we should be able to communicate with anybody who might pick up a book. Communicating means that you take that extra step to think about the audience. It’s not just about translating the work; it’s about speaking about complex issues in a way that enables people to engage with them. That, to me, is incredibly important. I have a general rule: If my mama can’t read it, I don’t want to write it. And some people may say, “Oh, that’s so simplistic. That’s childish.” I’m like, “No, writing simply and accessibly is much more difficult than relying on jargon and shorthand to get your point across.”“I think we should write books to be consumed. …It’s not just about translating the work; it’s about speaking about complex issues in a way that enables people to engage with them.”When I wrote this book, I had three people in mind. First, I had the student whose experiences I was chronicling. Second, I had in mind the people in that student’s life who can have a direct impact—whether that’s a professor, a college president, or a dean. Of course, the third group is consumers. That person who’s in the airport and happens to pick up the book, or that person who’s a little bit nerdy who always liked sociology in college and still keeps up with new things—those readers are just as important to me.
And the last thing I will say is this: I love LeVar Burton Reads. I’m so sad that the podcast ended. But after all those seasons, I was introduced to writers who, in such a short period of time, could create an entire world, with not a single word wasted. I discovered that podcast during the pandemic lockdowns, and I now have an entire shelf of books in my house dedicated to the authors I was introduced to through it. I just feel that I’m still growing as a scholar, and hopefully, I can continue to evolve as a communicator and as a writer.
Anthony Abraham Jack is an Associate Professor of Higher Education Leadership at Boston University Wheelock College of Education and Human Development and Inaugural Faculty Director of the Boston University Newbury Center. He is the author of Class Dismissed: When Colleges Ignore Inequality and Students Pay the Price and The Privileged Poor: How Elite College Are Failing Disadvantaged Students. Elena G. van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. The blog editor for Contexts, she studies culture and inequality, focusing on families, higher education, and the transition to adulthood.
In Matthew P. Fox and Steven E. Clayman’s summer 2024 Contexts feature, they explore the process of voir dire, or jury questioning, and efforts to identify potential jurors’ racial bias. The problem? Racial prejudice itself is taboo: jurors are reluctant to admit it, and judges and attorneys are reluctant to ask about it. Learn more in the interview above, and visit ctx.sagepub.com to read the article, publishing on Aug. 15, 2024.
Let’s face it: sex work is a highly stigmatized occupation. Although we might expect the shared experience of stigmatization to foster solidarity among sex workers, a recent study by Madeline Toubiana and Trish Ruebottom reveals that the reality is more complex: in addition to experiencing stigma from those outside the occupation, sex workers stigmatize one another.
Published in Administrative Science Quarterly, this six-year qualitative study examines stigmatization processes occurring within the Canadian sex work industry. Toubiana and Ruebottom identify a clear status hierarchy within the occupation, referred to by the sex workers themselves as “the whorearchy.” The authors identify physicality as the main criterion for this hierarchy, with those engaging in the highest degree of physical intimacy (especially intimacy with clients) at the bottom of the status hierarchy. Thus, a dominatrix would generally have higher status than a stripper, who would in turn enjoy higher status than an escort. The same principle applied within different specialties, based on variations in what individual workers were willing to do for clients. These hierarchies were further shaped by demographic characteristics (with those occupying privileged class and racial positions experiencing less stigma than others) and by workers’ motivation for their involvement (with those motivated by intrinsic enjoyment experiencing less stigma than those driven to sex work by financial need).The findings offer a nuanced view of stigma, and they illustrate how such processes can undermine occupational solidarity—potentially deterring collective action.The findings offer a nuanced view of stigma, including how members of a stigmatized group can act as stigmatizers themselves. And they illustrate how such processes can undermine occupational solidarity—potentially deterring collective action. To the extent that sex workers are fragmented into smaller clusters of solidarity instead of identifying with the broader occupation, they may have less power to advocate for shared interests and effect social change.
Body-focused repetitive behaviors are DSM-classified as obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorders, but sufferers are frequently treated as being to blame for making themselves “ugly.” The case of Trichotillomania reveals the stigma involved in “violating” beauty norms and the work people do to conceal both the effects and the cause of their deviance. Learn more in the interview above, and visit contexts.org/articles/su24-toc to read Dr. Andrea Kelley’s full article after Aug. 15, 2024.
At annual, citywide festivals like Fiestas in the U.S. Southwest and Mardis Gras or Carnival in the South, LGBTQ events are often the hottest tickets in town. This recognition and celebration, in turn, is a key part of securing full citizenship—the sense of being an important, unattenuated member of society—for LGBTQ community members. Learn more in the interview above, and visit contexts.org/articles/su24-toc/ to access the full-text article after Aug. 15, 2024.
Climate change and COVID-19 are two key problems that have highlighted humanity’s race against time. In each case, life-saving scientific breakthroughs have hinged on imagining new solutions to seemingly unsolvable social problems. Could AI be the key to speeding up the process? A new paper, published in Nature Human Behavior, investigates.
Authors Jamshid Sourati and James A. Evans provided AI with millions of scientific articles—1.5 million articles related to energy efficient technologies and 27 million related to medications—in order to determine AI’s effectiveness in accelerating science.
AI proved immensely fruitful. Each of the researchers’ AI models predicted both scientific discoveries and their discoverers four times faster than experts in the field were able to. Not only that, AI was able to fill in gaps of scientific knowledge and reveal new pathways to creation. Therefore, the authors conclude, AI sharpens the distance and focus of our scientific spyglass, potentially easing expedited science in times of need.
The Terminator, i, ROBOT, and other films reflect a common fascination with whether artificial intelligence will make or break humanity. While the answer to that question is still lost in the matrix, this article highlights AI as a helpful scientific tool, created by humans and now able to aid us in moments when we have little time to waste.
In the realm of global politics, immigration stands as a polarizing issue, often framed in terms of openness versus restriction. Traditional assumptions tie political parties to clear-cut stances, portraying liberals as proponents and conservatives as opponents of immigration. But how has this played out in Canada, a country that Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has claimed is “the first postnational state”? A recent publication in the Canadian Review of Sociology turns to data from Canadian parliamentary debates on immigration from 1968 to 2019.
Using discourse analysis, Ravi Pendakur and Sabrina Sarna identify Parliament’s 24 most frequently mentioned immigration issues, ranging from intake classes to refugee crises. Across the roughly 24,000 speeches analyzed from this 50-year period, refugees were the most frequently discussed issue, even though they constitute a relatively small proportion of country’s total annual immigration intake. Conservative Members of Parliament transitioned from discouraging refugee intake due to security concerns and terrorism during the Harper years (2006-2015) to later questioning the Trudeau government about its failure to fulfill the refugee intake promise. Polarized until 2015, the Liberal party’s perspective shifted rightward on the political ideology spectrum, whereas the Conservative party moved leftward. This shows that both parties gravitated toward a more centrist stance on immigration toward the end of the study period.Polarization between parties does not necessarily imply static views on immigration.Polarization between parties does not necessarily imply static views on immigration. As Pendakur and Sarna find, parties across the political spectrum may strategically shift toward the center, either to distance themselves from past leaders or to recapture moderate support within their respective political spheres.
Social problems—issues that negatively affect social groups, like poverty and racial discrimination—drive sociological inquiry. Sociologists trade in stories of the downtrodden, inequities between rich and poor, and institutional failures. We classify groups beleaguered by these problems with labels like “the disadvantaged,” “the poor,” and “the at-risk.”
Yet, this primary focus on problems distorts and misrepresents the range of human experience. It portrays people experiencing poverty, for example, as continually deficient. Growing up in a low-income household, I was shocked the first time I heard a well-regarded inequality scholar say, “Poor people think X,” as if people experiencing poverty are of the same, less critical/developed mind. This view is materially reflected in our profession; first-gen/low-income professors receive lower compensation and visibility and experience higher levels of isolation than more affluent colleagues. Given the focus on social problems, it makes sense that a “culture of poverty” perspective lingers in academia and broader society.
Understanding social problems is important, to be sure. But equally critical is understanding the opposite, where historically marginalized groups instead set the standard—well beyond simplistic notions of “resilience.” For example, girls in lower-income school districts who outperform boys in mathematics. Or, Black families that weave stronger intergenerational family ties than white counterparts. Studying such cases can help reveal how inequity does—or does not—function, and it can correct the deficit-model assumption that groups facing historical obstacles could not possibly be the benchmark. Understanding social problems is important, to be sure. But equally critical is understanding the opposite, where historically marginalized groups instead set the standard—well beyond simplistic notions of “resilience.”My book, Redefining Geek: Bias and the Five Hidden Habits of Tech-Savvy Teens, takes this approach by examining what digital divide discourse might suggest is “surprising”—the tremendous technological capabilities of lower-income and minoritized youth. I follow a roadmap set forth by scholars like Na’ilah Suad Nasir, who called into question the accuracy of standardized tests in measuring the mathematical abilities of Black youth by documenting their statistical prowess.
In Redefining Geek, I question the portrayal of “disadvantaged” groups as technologically disconnected and low-skilled. I knew from first-hand experience teaching and observing in Oakland, Chicago, and elsewhere that the picture is more complex. In fact, some of the techiest people I’ve encountered are thriving in underfunded, small-but-mighty youth media organizations and classrooms—and, as I wrote in my book, we have much to learn from them.
Like Jasmine, a Black eighth grader on Chicago’s South Side. When presented with a novel tech activity, Jasmine learned to use a computer application called Scratch in under seven minutes—faster than any other teen I challenged to complete this task (and faster than my undergraduate students!). Using highly skilled teens like Jasmine as the benchmark, I took a close look at their skills and identified five key technology learning habits essential to being dexterous in the digital age: willingness to try and fail, managing frustration and boredom, using models, considering the logic of a technology’s design relative to one’s goals, and using “efficiencies,” or shortcuts.
This approach of benchmarking marginalized groups matters in particular for the quantitative analysis of skill. Examining the talent of a diverse group of techy teens made it possible to develop a Digital Adaptability Scale (DAS) to measure their abilities without introducing bias. If I had created and validated the measure by studying “tech experts” in Silicon Valley rather than Jasmine and other savvy teens, I would have crafted a measure that amplified inequities. In fact, as computing historian Janet Abbate wrote in her book Recoding Gender, in the early days of computing, male-biased psychological tests helped attach “masculine” traits to tech skill and push women out of tech.
Instead, the DAS enables a better understanding of the complexities of the digital divide. Contrary to popular stereotypes, girls are no more fearful of failing with technology than boys. But, they have lower average scores on the two tech-specific habits that require more explicit explanation than the others: design logic and efficiencies. This suggests information is not shared equally across gender. There are also no racial, ethnic, or socioeconomic distinctions in the habits, which means so-called “disadvantaged” groups are skillful but go unrecognized for their tech talents.
I am far from the first to claim that a focus on social problems can help perpetuate them. Mary Pattillo (2021), for instance, advocates a “Black Advantage Vision” and argues that a focus on Black disadvantage “piles on to the unrelenting barrage of negative information about Black people that permeates U.S. and world culture, and further feeds white people’s need for the pathological Black Other.” Pattillo maintains that social science is “partially the reason for W.E.B. Du Bois’s most poignant question: ‘How does it feel to be a problem?’”
To correct the historical misrepresentation of Black life, Du Bois cataloged its variation. More contemporary work like The New Brownies’ Book celebrates Black excellence. But exactly how to study successes rather than failures receives less attention in academic training, publications, and conversations. We sociologists like our problems.
Still, sociologists should care about these missing pieces for empirical, theoretical, and practical reasons. In focusing primarily on social problems, our discipline is operating with missing data. We’re bypassing key leverage for theory development. And, as a matter of practicality, if social scientists hope to address inequality, it is difficult to do so without a future vision.In focusing primarily on social problems, our discipline is operating with missing data. We’re bypassing key leverage for theory development. And… if social scientists hope to address inequality, it is difficult to do so without a future vision.As technology historian Kelcey Gibbons (2022) writes of Black computing professionals excluded from dominant historical accounts: “[I]f we focus on failure, we miss the power of… Hopeful Action and imaginations of alternative futures.” By focusing on social problems, we overlook gifts like Jasmine’s and close the door to their contributions.
If we want to understand and improve the social worlds we claim to represent, beyond social problems, we need to study talent and triumph—especially in the places sociological research might currently make it seem least likely to be found.
Cassidy Puckett is in the Department of Sociology at Emory University. She studies technological change and inequality in education, occupations, and healthcare.
Millennials are widely assumed to be economically worse off than Baby Boomers. Explanations range from the younger generation’s experience of precarious employment, rises in cohabiting and single parenthood, and even their alleged overconsumption of avocado toast. At the same time, Millennial billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg and Sam Bankman-Fried have accrued early fortunes in fields such as tech and finance. So, are Millennials really the first generation to fare worse than their parents?So, are Millennials really the first generation to fare worse than their parents?A new study published in the American Journal of Sociology by Rob Gruijters, Anette Fasang, and Zachary Van Winkle examines this claim. Using data comparing the work and family trajectories and wealth accumulation of early Millennials (born 1980-1984) and late Baby Boomers (born 1957-1964), their analysis reveals a complex story. The median Millennial does indeed have less wealth than the median Boomer at age 35, but inequality between the top and bottom of the wealth distribution has increased. So, while the poorest Millennials are worse off than the poorest Boomers were at 35, the wealthiest Millennials (hello, Mark Zuckerberg) are better off than the budding Boomer elites were at 35. The divergence stems from the fact that the economic advantages associated with typical middle-class lifestyles (pursuing professional careers, delaying starting a family) have increased since Boomers were coming of age. In contrast, the disadvantages associated with typical working-class trajectories (low-level blue-collar or service sector work, single parenthood) have persisted or worsened.
The study, which adds to our understanding of generational change and rising wealth inequality, includes a number of policy insights. The proposed interventions include measures to limit (and redistribute) wealth accumulation at the top of the economic distribution (e.g., tax reforms), as well as measures to promote wealth accumulation at the bottom (e.g., providing young families with access to stable housing). Encouragingly, the authors’ suggestions don’t involve cutting back on avocado toast.
Barbie, the 2023 film directed by Greta Gerwig, broke records as the first billion-dollar blockbuster solely directed by a woman. Why are females in cinematic leadership roles so scarce? Film to date has largely been built through the eyes and minds of men, with only 2-6% (according to prior research) of all films at any time being led by female cinematographers and teams. Pete Jones and colleagues took a network analysis approach to investigating the make-up of cinematic teams in a recently published paper in Social Networks. The network data for this study comes from a database of nine years of Australian film and television productions containing 3,023 unique people working in 9,445 roles on 774 productions, as well as a survey of 582 camera department workers.
The research team found that, on the one hand, men in the film industry tend to work with men, preserve the same teams over time, and occupy and maintain many leadership roles within the film industry. Some men in leadership roles include women on their teams, but there are far fewer women than men to choose from within the industry. Women, on the other hand, while working alongside men, frequently jump from one team to the next post-production because most film crews are led by men who hire men instead of women. That the few women who gain access to leadership roles make sure to diversify their film teams highlights the fact that inequality in film is not merely due to unequal numbers of men and women, but is likely the result of exclusionary practices that reproduce male domination.That the few women who gain access to leadership roles make sure to diversify their film teams highlights the fact that inequality in film is not merely due to unequal numbers of men and women, but is likely the result of exclusionary practices that reproduce male domination.What we see on the big screen impacts how we perceive the world and our place in it. But the images we ingest have largely been conjured and brought into our theaters and homes by men. How might a world of cinema drafted and crafted by women influence our social worlds? Well, if Barbie’s smash success is any indication, audiences can’t wait to find out.
As the rich get richer, as the old saying goes, we might expect their political influence to expand. This logic, however, assumes that elites believe in political solutions—an assumption that a recent study by Finnish sociologists Hanna Kuusela and Anu Kantola calls into question. Indeed, even in one of the most progressive liberal democracies in the world, we see the rich get richer and more cynical of democracy.
Published in the British Journal of Sociology, the article draws on 90 interviews with Finland’s wealth elite to examine how this small, extremely powerful segment of society views the utility and capability of liberal democracy. While some participants avoided discussing politics altogether, most responses drew on a combination of three main frames of critique. The first, which the authors dub the cynicism frame, paints democracy as an inefficient and ineffective system of governance that has been “hijacked” by special interests. The second, the impatience frame, locates its consternation in the deliberative element of democracy, claiming that debate and consensus-building are barriers to the types of strong action needed to create change. The third, the boldness frame, builds on the impatience frame to claim that democratic leaders lack the courage to make the difficult decisions needed to solve big social and political problems (ones that the participants often failed to identify explicitly).
To make sense of their respondents’ critical frames, the authors draw together theories of unpolitical democracy, which describes the rise of anti-political, antagonistic, and populist parties within democratic systems, and solutionism, the belief in simple, often technological solutions to complex social and political problems. These suggest that today’s wealth elites largely see liberal democracy as an inefficient system incapable of solving pressing, yet unspecified social and political problems. The result is that elites appear to echo the sense of political powerlessness and support for strongmen leaders found among populist partisans and the lower classes.Elites appear to echo the sense of political powerlessness and support for strongmen leaders found among populist partisans and the lower classes.
COVID-19 campus closures in March 2020 led many—but not all—college students to move back in with their parents. Why did some students return home while others did not?
I’ve spent much of the past four years researching an answer to this question. The COVID-19 campus closures have held my interest because they offer a unique window into students’ and parents’ taken-for-granted understandings of their roles, the nature of adulthood, and who to turn to in times of crisis.
In a new study published in Socius, my collaborators Arielle Kuperberg, Joan Maya Mazelis, and I set out to understand the pandemic housing decisions of undergraduates attending two regional public universities in the United States. Both institutions included a substantial number of students who would be considered nontraditional undergraduates due to their age (24+) and/or relationship status (living with a partner); this allowed us to examine how these characteristics influenced students’ choices.
As one might expect, students living in dorms—who directly lost housing in the shutdowns—were more likely to move in with a parent than were their off-campus peers (66% vs. 18%). Among off-campus students, those who experienced employment disruptions due to the pandemic were more likely to move in with a parent, suggesting that lost income created a comparable situation of material need—and led students to seek support from their parents.Understanding the safety nets that undergraduates relied on during the pandemic provides valuable insight into how expectations for parents’ roles change over time and influence young adults’ responses to crises.But housing and financial needs weren’t the whole story. As other sociologists who study financial decision-making have shown, decisions to seek help from friends and family can rarely be reduced to a simple economic calculation. Different types of relationships come with different expectations for support, and even within a relationship, perceptions of what is natural, reasonable, or desirable evolve over time and vary across situations.
After accounting for housing and job loss, we found that students who might be considered more “adult” by conventional American standards, whether due to their age or because they were living with a romantic partner, were less likely to move in with a parent when the pandemic hit. These findings illustrate how the role of the parental home diminishes throughout the transition to adulthood as children grow older and form partnerships that provide new potential sources of support. We also found that students living with a sibling or extended family member were less likely to move in with a parent, suggesting that these relatives, like romantic partners, provided an alternative safety net for some students.
In a previous study, I documented social class divides in undergraduates’ expectations for parental support in the wake of the COVID-19 campus closures. This new study adds another piece to the puzzle, illuminating how parents’ roles also varied between students in different life stages and with different constellations of close social ties. Understanding the safety nets that undergraduates relied on during the pandemic provides valuable insight into how expectations for parents’ roles change over time and influence young adults’ responses to crises.
Elena G. van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. The Blog Editor for Contexts, she studies culture and inequality, focusing on social class, families, and the transition to adulthood.
Demonstrated by the popularity of Amazon’s Ring app, people are increasingly relying on private-sector technologies for safeguarding their properties and ensuring personal safety. Amazon profits—and its technologies enable law enforcement to access more surveillance content from more people more easily than ever before. Scholars Sarah Brayne, Sarah Lageson, and Karen Levy term this phenomenon, wherein “ordinary people use their labor and economic resources to engage in surveillance activities on behalf of the state,” surveillance deputization.
In Law & Society Review, the authors use contemporary empirical examples to hypothesize the conditions that contribute to surveillance deputization. The first condition occurs when the interests of the state and the civilian converge. Such scenarios can range from instances in which civilians willingly provide information to state actors to situations in which state actors actively encourage and offer incentives for civilian participation in the surveillance project. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio advised residents to inform on individuals and businesses who were not participating in social distancing. A second condition arises when “law institutionalizes surveillance deputization or fails to clarify its boundaries.” Take, for instance, Texas’ S.B. 8. The legislation was crafted to “circumvent” Roe v. Wade by deputizing ordinary people to penalize those seeking abortions by filing lawsuits against anyone aiding them in the process, including doctors, nurses, and even Uber drivers. Finally, the conditions for surveillance deputization are right when digital tools incentivize the voluntary participation of civilians. For instance, the authors note how applications like Nextdoor provide relatively inexpensive platforms for “responsibilized citizens” to engage in consumption practices that produce surveillance data.
As technologies facilitate the escalation of private data collection and businesses identify strategies to capitalize on this trend, the frameworks presented in this paper enhance our understanding of the ways peer surveillance becomes a desirable extension of both state and corporate surveillance.
On February 22, 2024, Darryl George received the verdict that his barrel-rolled locs were not protected by the CROWN Act. A high school student in Texas, George faced multiple academic suspensions for violating his school district’s grooming policy.
The CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair), which prohibits race-based hair discrimination in employment, education, federally assisted programs, housing, and public accommodations, was signed into Texas law last September. However, it makes no specific reference to hair length. Thus, the judge ruled that the dress code in question did not violate the CROWN Act. George would receive no legal protection—his locs would have to be cut.
George’s experience illustrates the ongoing battle for Black hair acceptance in America. Moreover, his story highlights a crucial shortcoming of the CROWN Act and conversations about Black hair acceptance more generally: Black men, and their hair-related experiences, are too often left out of the narrative.
As I explored recent research on perceptions of Black hair, I noticed that this literature focuses almost exclusively on Black women. Even articles discussing Black men have focused on how Black men perceive Black women’s hair or how they influence Black women’s perspectives. Men’s experiences— how they feel and think about their own hair, are missing from this literature.
Researchers have justified their focus on Black women by emphasizing that women and girls are more affected by hair-based discrimination than are men and boys. But as George’s experience shows, Black men and boys need protection, too. To address this, scholars must broaden the scope of their research to uncover new narratives centered on the experiences of Black men. Doing so will help us develop more inclusive and effective policies to combat this unique form of discrimination.
In my own ethnographic research, which centered on 33 interviews with adult Black men, I explored men’s perceptions of their own hair and how their personal experiences and interactions with others shaped their views. From this, I found that they often avoided hairstyles like braids and locs to escape race-based hair discrimination. While discussing influences for hairstyle choices, one participant mentioned instinctively cutting off his braids because he was one of fewer than five Black employees. He explained that the lack of representation in the room led him to believe that his long braids would not be considered professional. Another recalled removing his Jheri curls after struggling to find employment. The widespread perception of long as deviant led many participants to consider fade and taper haircuts in an effort to present as more professional.If we want to end race-based hair discrimination, legislation must protect Black people equally. To accomplish this, Black men need to join the conversation.These stories add nuance to our understanding of race-based hair discrimination by revealing the gendered patterns underlying it. In George’s case, the CROWN Act did not fail to protect his locs, but it did fail to protect his hair length.
George’s school’s dress code had length restrictions that applied only to male students:
“Male students’ hair will not extend, at any time, below the eyebrows or below the ear lobes. Male students’ hair must not extend below the top of a t-shirt collar or be gathered or worn in a style that would allow the hair to extend below the top of a t-shirt collar, below the eyebrows, or below the ear lobes when let down.”
The length restrictions effectively prevent young Black men like George from wearing cultural styles such as locs, braids, and potentially afros, as these styles tend to require longer hair.
The CROWN Act clearly requires revision. George’s case demonstrates that length is an additional barrier to hair acceptance for Black men and must be included in legislation aimed at protecting Black people from hair-based discrimination. It also raises the question of what other protections we might be missing by failing to include the experiences of Black men. If we want to end race-based hair discrimination, legislation must protect Black people equally. To accomplish this, Black men need to join the conversation.
Aniya Watkins is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at The Ohio State University. She studies culture, race/ethnic relations, and applied sociology.
How has California managed to enact America’s “strongest” climate laws when confronted with a “fragmented system of government with multiple veto points,” a dynamic landscape of interest groups, and a weighty presence of fossil fuel industry? In a paper published in Social Forces, Andrew Jaeger explores the collaboration between Silicon Valley and the state of California, aiming to find answers to questions that transcend state boundaries and environmental constraint.
By examining a multi-faceted dataset that includes archived newsletters, reports, position papers, and field research, Jaeger reveals Silicon Valley’s pivotal role in shaping climate policy. The emergence of the Environmental Entrepreneurs group, advocating that addressing climate change necessitates substantial investments in “cleantech,” has positioned Silicon Valley as a primary producer of such technologies. This burgeoning green industry, in turn, has attracted considerable capital investment and forged a pro-climate business coalition crucial in the passage of California’s climate laws.
Silicon Valley garnered support, lobbied state officials, and emerged as a fervent advocate for climate initiatives by framing climate policy as a win-win for both the economy and the environment. This scenario not only diffused the economic threats posed by the fossil fuel coalition but simultaneously recast it as a self-interested entity representing a diminishing sector of the economy. Consequently, the emergence of Silicon Valley as a prominent force within the pro-climate movement underscores the author’s suggestion that “a credible plan for spurring growth, supported by significant fractions of capital, is necessary for achieving comprehensive climate policy.”Silicon Valley garnered support, lobbied state officials, and emerged as a fervent advocate for climate initiatives by framing climate policy as a win-win for both the economy and the environment.
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Effects and Benefits ExplainedOptimizing the effects and benefits of delta-8 THC infused gummies involves understanding how they interact with the body’s endocannabinoid system.
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Dosage and Safety GuidelinesDosage and Safety Guidelines
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Product Reviews and RatingsWhen selecting a delta-8 THC infused gummy product, it’s crucial to consider the opinions and experiences of other customers.
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Look for patterns in the reviews, like whether the product helps with anxiety or stress relief. Check the overall ratings, taking note of the proportion of 4- and 5-star reviews versus negative comments.
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ConclusionNow that you’ve reached the end of this comprehensive guide, you’re well-equipped to navigate the world of hemp-derived delta-8 THC infused gummies.
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“Families feel like they need to prepare for the worst,” says Dr. Katherine Johnson, author of the Contexts feature “Navigating the Invisibility and Hypervisibility of Mixed-Race Families.” In this interview with Contexts graduate student editor Colter Uscola, Johnson discusses her research with Black-White mixed-race families and how mothers and fathers approach the racial erasure and surveillance their families attract when going about their daily lives. She also speaks to the relevance of Contexts as a hybrid publication, written by academics but for the general public, noting how it fits with her vision for a sociology that’s “engaging, impactful, and… accessible.” Read the full article online at https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/epdf/10.1177/15365042241252123.
In Meghan Warner’s new study, young people who have experienced sexual violence described themselves as stuck between two seemingly opposing stereotypes: the “broken” victim and the “healed” survivor. And, as she explains in this interview, given the prevalence of sexual violence, it’s a bind that often goes unaddressed even by those trying to help. Read more at https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/epdf/10.1177/15365042241252122 (free to read, download, and share through June 15).
Do you remember the headlines from the 1980s featuring courageous Chinese students fighting for democracy in Tiananmen Square? Fast forward a couple of decades and these images have all but disappeared from American news media. What changed?
I set out to answer this question through computational text analysis. Analyzing more than 1,500 American news articles spanning four decades, I uncovered a significant shift in the portrayal of Chinese student migrants by U.S. news media. Once depicted as pro-democracy heroes who sought political asylum in the United States, Chinese student migrants now tend to be portrayed through a lens of economic opportunism, racialization, and political suspicion. This shift maps onto broader historical changes in the relationship between the two countries over this period.Once depicted as pro-democracy heroes who sought political asylum in the United States, Chinese student migrants now tend to be portrayed through a lens of economic opportunism, racialization, and political suspicion.Punctuated by the Tiananmen Square Protests, the 1980s largely saw Chinese student migrants celebrated as champions of democracy in American news media. Over time, however, this narrative faded. Starting in the 2000s, Chinese student migrants began to be discussed as a lucrative source of “tuition dollars” for American education and were increasingly valued for their financial contributions to the U.S. economy.
The media also increasingly portrayed these students through the racialized lens of the unassimilable “perpetual foreigner” stereotype. This narrative was aggravated by the COVID-19 pandemic, during which Chinese student migrants were unfairly stereotyped as virus carriers and spreaders.
Further, these students are frequently depicted as potential national security risks, with accusations reminiscent of Cold War-era paranoia. Sensational news articles accusing Chinese student groups on U.S. campuses of receiving money from the Chinese government or that Chinese students are engaging in academic and technological espionage are rampant. I found that this national security narrative has been the most persistent over the past four decades. A recent study suggests that it has contributed to a chilling effect among Chinese American researchers.
This shift in American media portrayals of Chinese student migrants maps onto historical changes in the relationship between the two countries over the past four decades. My analysis suggests that as China’s influence on the global stage has expanded, so too has the inclination to view its overseas citizens with skepticism and apprehension. More and more, Chinese students are not regarded as having individual political agency; they are seen, rather, as extensions of the Chinese government. Thus, whether Chinese students are construed positively as economic assets or negatively as threats to national security, contemporary discourse ultimately reinforces a persistent, essentialist view of China as “Other,” characterizing the country as a totalitarian regime fundamentally at odds with liberal democracies.
Historically, the perception of Chinese intellectuals, along with Chinese immigrants at large, has oscillated between competing cultural narratives of “Yellow Peril” (which construes Asian people as an existential threat to Western civilization) and the “Model Minority” (which stereotypes Asian Americans as a monolithic group that has achieved greater success than other minority racial groups) within the United States. This dichotomy is largely dependent on shifting political incentives: Chinese individuals are lauded as exemplary immigrants during settled periods, yet quickly become convenient scapegoats during periods of economic or political distress. The COVID-19 pandemic starkly demonstrated this, as Chinese immigrants swiftly transitioned from accepted members of society to victims of anti-Asian hate. Such shifts underscore the entrenched view of Asian immigrants as “perpetual foreigners,” regardless of their contributions or individual circumstances. Consequently, Chinese student migrants, many of whom are in the United States on a temporary basis, find their experiences and perceptions intertwined with those of their Asian immigrant counterparts, highlighting linked fate in terms of fluctuating societal acceptance.Chinese students’ individual stories, ambitions, dilemmas, and struggles merit acknowledgment beyond their perceived economic utility or their country’s political agenda.The changing narratives illustrated here should prompt critical reflection on the impact of media framings on our perception of Chinese student migrants and, by extension, the nation they hail from. They highlight the need for a deeper, more nuanced understanding of the diverse roles and identities of Chinese students in the United States—beyond the headlines, to the heart of their lived experiences and contributions. These students’ individual stories, ambitions, dilemmas, and struggles merit acknowledgment beyond their perceived economic utility or their country’s political agenda.
Weirong Guo is a postdoctoral fellow in the Asian American Studies Program at the University of Pennsylvania. She studies culture, politics, and Chinese diasporas with a focus on Chinese student migrants.
Reaching broader publics? Yeah, we do that.
Amin is in Amsterdam and London on a European book tour for Long Live Queer Nightlife. He is racking up reviews on both sides of the pond, including in The New York Times. Meanwhile, Malcolm Gladwell endorsed Seth’s new book (co-authored with Anna Mueller) about youth suicide clusters, Life Under Pressure. The trio are hosting an event at the 92nd Street Y in New York, a world-class community center where people can connect through the arts, culture, and conversation.
We preach and practice the mission of public engagement that motivates our magazine, much like the authors of our blooming Spring edition. To get us started, consider how universities appear through a culture-war lens as bastions of liberalism. Yet there is considerable value-add of conservative viewpoints in public debates. “Look,” Charles Fain Lehman from the Manhattan Institute says bluntly, “about half the country is conservative. You can think that they are wrong, but if you want to have an impact on those people, it is helpful to at least have some vague idea of what they think.” Our Q&A with Lehman creates a needed space for balanced perspectives, or “epistemic humility,” as he calls it. You don’t have “to agree” with Lehman, he freely says, but we should be willing “to listen” to other points of view. After all, we all have “something valuable to say.”
The features in this fertile issue have significant insights to offer about who we are and how we cultivate our identities, particularly amidst the mayhem of the modern world. Listen closely, and you’ll learn about the label preferences of people who have experienced sexual violence: Do they define themselves as survivors, victims, or something else? From there, florets of wisdom await about the family-making practices of interracial couples: How do they manage racial surveillance and threats of erasure? Next come the sprouting conspiracy theories: Why are some of us irresistibly drawn to groups like QAnon, and how do those conspiratorial beliefs feed deeper needs like validation, connection, and purpose? The final feature is rooted in philosophical and applied questions about data transparency: If the public sphere is a democratic one, what does it mean for Twitter/X to cut off free access to its data?The features in this fertile issue have significant insights to offer about who we are and how we cultivate our identities, particularly amidst the mayhem of the modern world.At Contexts, we believe that there are many ways of fruitfully engaging with the public. The mighty pen might be most familiar, but we also like photographs that emphasize the artful qualities of sociology. We are pleased to present two compositions that use images to tell a story. The first grapples with overdose fatalities in Massachusetts. Susan Sontag was right to write, “Memory is, achingly, the only relation we have with the dead.” More than just a requiem for those who have lost a beloved to a fatal overdose, memory is also the catalyst for action to raise international awareness about harm reduction.
From Massachusetts we travel to Puerto Nuevo, the second deadliest district in Peru, where a project was redirected by children who thought about identity in different ways than the researchers. While the team wanted photographs about growing up in violent circumstances, the kids resisted. “Can we go somewhere else to take pictures?” Others would say, “I don’t want to take pictures of what I do not like.” By creating an opportunity for kids to show their neighborhood on their own terms, through their own eyes, they shifted the conversation from the constraints of poverty and crime to the abundance of talent, fashion, and community. This is participatory public sociology at its best.
After these visually beautiful essays come provocations about the use of drag performance by trans and nonbinary individuals to find and affirm gender identities, how survivors are depicted in horror movies, overlooked facts about abortion bans, and some “tricks” that U.S. Supreme Court justices have used to overturn affirmative action.
Spring brings more light into the world, and we, wide-eyed with wonder, bring you one illuminating idea after another. To round out the issue, we invite you to a conversation about queer spaces and placemaking practices as inspired by the publication of two new buzzy books (confession: one is written by one of us!).
Anchoring the spring issue is a deeply personal essay by Aldon Morris, past president of the American Sociological Association. Morris offers a future-forward, clarion call to action: without struggle, there is no progress. Power concedes nothing without a demand, Morris reminds: “It never did, and it never will.”
As you read these essays, we hope that you will be inspired to listen closely, speak your truth unabashedly, and let the sun shine on the terrace of our shared social life. The public needs us, needs you. Together, let us commit to the grand project of cultivating a public sociology.
Amin Ghaziani & Seth Abrutyn, University of British Columbia
from the editorsin brief:* “Okay, Boomer,” Elena G. van Stee * “AI and the Scientific Imagination,” Colter J. Uscola * “Who’s on Top?” Elena G. van Stee * “Law and the Looky-Loo,” Sophie X. Liu * “Canada’s Immigration Politics,” Sophie X. Liu * “Movies Reboot Gender Divides,” Colter J. Uscola * “Trust and Stratify,” Parker Muzzerall * “Wealthy Disillusioned with Politics, Too,” Parker Muzzerall
q&a: “A Drop of Epistemic Humility.” Amin Ghaziani interviews Charles Fain Lehman, a fellow at the Manhattan Institute and contributing editor of City Journal*, about the value-add of conservative viewpoints in public debates.
features:* “Not a Victim, Not a Survivor,” by Meghan Warner. Young people who have experienced sexual violence describe themselves as stuck between two seemingly opposing stereotypes: the “broken” victim and the “healed” survivor. Their responses to these labels are shaped by and shape how they feel about their other social identities. * “Navigating the Hypervisibility and Invisibility of Mixed-Race Families,” by Katherine Johnson. U.S. multiracial families are paradoxically regarded as representatives of a post-racial ideal and as anomalies that challenge assumptions. Here, Black-White couples discuss the pressures they feel to “perform” family when facing racial surveillance and erasure. * “Why Believe Conspiracy Theories?” by Meggan M. Jordan and Jennifer M. Whitmer. Beliefs, even conspiratorial ones, do not occur in a vacuum: They reflect social conditions and fulfill important identity needs, including access to social connection and playfulness; distinction, purpose, and legitimacy; and a sense of certainty, justice, and order. * “The Day Data Transparency Died: How Twitter/X Cut Off Access for Social Research,” by Elizabeth Blakey. For 17 years, Twitter/X provided free academic access—not by law, but by social contract—to its data for researchers examining elections, hate speech, and other crucial public issues. It took just six months under Elon Musk to rescind this unfettered access and upend global scholarship.
in pictures:* “Grieving Overdose.” Emily B. Campbell on using grief to fuel social and political action. * “See It through My Eyes.” Andrea Román Alfaro on seeing a Peruvian shantytown through the lens(es) of its children.
culture:* “A Space of Discovery and Refuge.” Olivia Baker and Baker Rogers on drag performance and gender identity. * “The New Final Girl Shares Her Trauma.” Kyle Green and Kelsey Berry on the real fears behind scary movies.
trends:* “Overlooked Consequences.” Catherine J. Taylor on life under restrictive abortion laws.
books: “Transformations in Queer Placemaking.” Tristan Bridges and Kendall Ota on Who Needs Gay Bars? and Long Live Queer Nightlife.*
policy brief:* “SCOTUS Rewriting the History of Race in America.” Robert L. Nelson on the racial ideology of a conservative-majority court.
one thing i know:* “Without Struggle, There Is No Progress!” Aldon Morris on a life of anti-racist activism.
For 17 years, Twitter/X provided free academic access—not by law, but by social contract—to its data for researchers examining elections, hate speech, and other crucial public issues. As Elizabeth Blakey writes in her Spring 2024 feature article for Contexts, it took just six months under Elon Musk to rescind this unfettered access and upend global scholarship. “[I]t has to do with public trust,” Blakey explains in this interview about the public significance of her piece. “So if,” like Twitter and Musk, “you’re claiming to be the public town square and [to] be interested in having open discourse, it’s important that researchers be able to examine that discourse.” Further, she adds, “at the end of the day, I mean, the best argument for why [Twitter/X] should provide it is that it really is our data, right? They’re monetizing our data… they sell that data to marketing, but they don’t provide it to us. And it is our data.” Read, download, and share Blakey’s article, “The Day Data Transparency Died,” through June 15, 2024 at ctx.sagepub.com.
As the cost of living, and housing in particular, skyrockets, more and more people face eviction. Unsurprisingly, U.S. eviction courts—a specific form of civil legal process for adjudicating disputes over tenancy—are experiencing record case numbers. While the legal system seeks fair and just representation, court records show that landlords win eviction cases at an overwhelming—and increasing—rate. Why is this? In a new study published in City & Community, Isaiah Fleming-Klink and colleagues argue that, in an overburdened court system, a series of processes and procedures have emerged that “systematically disadvantage” tenants.
The study combines over a year of ethnographic observations from a Washington, D.C. evictions court with analysis of administrative records to identify four specific forms of disadvantage that tenants experience throughout the eviction court process. First, the unwritten rules of the courtroom—where to stand, who to talk to—are unclear to tenants experiencing the legal system for the first time. This is especially true for tenants with disabilities. Second, tenancy laws are often applied inconsistently, benefitting landlords who have access to more resources to understand and respond appropriately. Third, eviction courts increasingly rely on “shadow procedures,” like consent judgments and settlement agreements, to expedite cases. These almost unanimously favor landlords. Finally, landlords and their lawyers, who are often far more familiar with the court system than are tenants, leverage their relationships with courtroom actors, including judges and administrative clerks, to advance their interests.While evictions are a bureaucratic hassle for landlords, they can be immensely disruptive and traumatic events for tenants. So, too, is the evictions court process, which disadvantages the tenant at every step.While evictions are a bureaucratic hassle for landlords, they can be immensely disruptive and traumatic events for tenants. So, too, is the evictions court process, which disadvantages the tenant at every step. The authors are careful to point out that many of these processes are not intentional, but the unintended consequences of an under-resourced and overburdened system. Regardless, for a population already living in precarity, the compounding effects of unequal access to legal representation and due process has potential to reinforce existing inequalities in the rental market and beyond.
Twitter’s post-January 6th suspension of Donald Trump’s account silenced his digital megaphone in an instant. While the immediate consequences for the former president were evident, the broader impact of account suspension on the everyday user is less understood. To untangle this unknown process, Shangwei Wu and Hui Fang delve into the intricacies of “account bombings,” or the termination of social media accounts in China, in a recent paper in New Media and Society.
The data consist of 115 bloggers’ posts about their account bombing experiences and interviews with 48 social media users whose accounts were suspended. The findings suggest that, beyond erasing extensive periods of one’s life encapsulated in accounts, along with perceived personal property, social media suspensions sever digital ties and evoke a sense of lost dignity, or a sense of worthlessness arising from lost self-respect. By suspending user accounts, then, social media platforms isolate individuals from indispensable bonds in the digitized world. This sets in motion a journey for users as they strive to reclaim their identities and salvage what was taken from them—memories, friendships, and social resources.
Social media platforms that transcend national boundaries leverage a power that mimics national governments’ capacities and erases social media users’ sense of self. That is, in a time when more and more of our personal narratives, memories, and lives are etched onto virtual walls, social media conglomerates have become judge, jury, and executioner to those individuals they determine problematic for their platform’s financial success. When media users depend upon online communities for maintaining health and well-being, how might governments curb media platforms’ use of power to support the health of their citizens?
It was a bracingly cold morning in 2019 in a far suburb of Toronto, Canada. I stepped across the threshold of Amina’s bungalow, taking her hand and leaning in to kiss the air beside each of her cheeks. In my other hand, I clutched a box of sweets I’d brought for her elderly mother, a token of appreciation for welcoming me into their home.
Amina, a mother of five, was a participant in my multi-year study following the successes and challenges of 148 Syrian mothers and teenagers admitted to Canada under the Syrian Refugee Resettlement Initiative (SRRI). On that chilly November morning, I found Amina’s elderly mother, Zeynab, playfully wrangling her youngest grandchild, a rambunctious toddler, on one of the thin mattresses (doshak) that lined the home. From behind a drywalled addition, Zeynab’s own mother, Rashida, called out for assistance getting up from bed. A few minutes later, having gathered all four generations of her family together on the doshak, Zeynab opened the box of sweets, inhaled deeply, and offered the first chocolate to me.
Multigenerational households like Amina’s are rare in Canada, even among migrant populations. The country’s immigration system makes it particularly challenging for migrant families to establish multigenerational households, even when they desire to do so, as it favors younger “economic” migrants while making it difficult for them to bring their elderly relatives along. In fact, since 2015, fewer than 5% of those admitted to Canada under the SRRI have been above the age of 60. Compared to the United States, Canada has a weaker family reunification program and employs a more restrictive definition of “family” (defined only as parents, spouses, or children under 18 years old). Beyond these policy constraints, many migrant families encounter financial obstacles that prevent them from bringing their elderly family members to Canada.
Click to expand. ThinkLink Graphics // Delaney CoxNearly all the families in the study were forced to leave behind multiple members of their households when they relocated to Canada. And according to study participants, the most critical missing persons were elder matriarchs like Zeynab and Rashida, whom they described as invaluable sources of power, support, and wisdom. Only two of the 53 households in the study had successfully resettled their elder matriarchs in Canada.
As my collaborators and I described in a recent article, “Grandmothers Behind the Scenes,” studying these two households offered a unique window into what life could be like if immigration policies better supported the preservation of multigenerational households.
The experiences of Zeynab and another grandmother named Jihan illuminated both the challenges and possibilities associated with multigenerational migrant households in this context. One of the key challenges we identified stemmed from the broader devaluation of older adults in Canadian society, which was intensified by their exclusion from immigration services like career and employment programs. These conditions led to a loss of authority and social status—a stark contrast to the respected positions these women held back in Syria.
Still, the resettled grandmothers demonstrated remarkable resilience, reclaiming their roles as valued members of their families and within the broader migrant community. Through various creative, life-affirming pursuits, they provided essential care and support within and beyond their households.Through various creative, life-affirming pursuits, the resettled grandmothers in this study provided essential care and support within and beyond their households.Zeynab found tremendous purpose through work within her household, where she cared for her grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and her own elderly mother. This caregiving labor enabled her daughter Amina to take English classes and work for pay outside the home, strengthening the family’s foothold in Canadian society. Zeynab took pride in teaching the youngest children their family’s language, culture, and religious traditions. And after Amina experienced mistreatment from her husband in the months following their resettlement, Zeynab provided constant emotional support that ultimately empowered Amina to separate from him.
At first glance, it may seem that Zeynab was giving much and receiving little. Yet, there was a balanced reciprocity in these relationships. Zeynab, a cancer survivor, credited her survival to her “second mother,” her daughter Amina.
Jihan, the other grandmother in our case study, forged her sense of purpose in her broader community, aiding the resettlement processes of those outside her household. For example, having previously paired over a hundred couples back home, she reestablished her matchmaking services in Toronto (in her efforts to help the Syrian Canadian diaspora grow, she also tried several times to recruit members of our research team into her pool of eligible Toronto singles!). Jihan created a local lending circle for Syrian women entrepreneurs who lacked access to capital investment. And for the many newcomers forced to leave their elders behind, Jihan became a source of wisdom on every topic, from cooking to marriage to finances.Despite scarce material resources, both Zeynab and Jihan provided essential forms of care that improved others’ lives, both materially and socially. Yet Canada’s commitment to reunifying elders with their families remains weak. The current immigration system tends to portray elders like Zeynab and Jihan through a deficit lens, construing them as social burdens rather than assets. This perspective fails to acknowledge the countless forms of valuable care and support that older adults provide to their families and society. By highlighting the contributions of Zeynab and Jihan, our research underscores the importance of multigenerational caregiving in promoting the well-being of individuals, families, and communities.Canada’s current immigration system tends to portray elders like Zeynab and Jihan through a deficit lens, construing them as social burdens rather than assets. Our research instead underscores the importance of multigenerational caregiving in promoting the well-being of individuals, families, and communities.
Neda Maghbouleh is in the Department of Sociology at the University of British Columbia. She is the author of The Limits of Whiteness: Iranian Americans and the Everyday Politics of Race.
As the distinction between life on the internet and life in the real world blurs, one consequence is that our online behavior can have a tremendous impact on our offline lives—think of someone who gets fired over an insensitive Facebook comment or derogatory Tweet. But as Yuan Hsiao and colleagues show in their new study, this relationship goes both ways. Our real world lives also affect our online interactions.
Published in the American Sociological Review, this mixed-methods paper examining on- and offline conflict between Latino gangs in Chicago combines the strengths of computational techniques—like spatial and social network analysis—and in-depth qualitative discourse analysis to contextualize, corroborate, or refute quantitative findings. The authors set out to determine the extent to which online gang behavior, which may include posting about gang activity and membership or making threats toward other gang members, corresponds with real-world violent crime reports and territorial boundaries. They found that rather than acting as a catalyst for violence, online gang activity is heavily influenced by offline interactions and territorial proximity. That is, the more closely gangs are connected in the real world, the more likely they are to engage in conflict online.The more closely gangs are connected in the real world, the more likely they are to engage in conflict online.As social media becomes central to political and cultural life, studies have tended to focus on either online interactions or the ways online behavior shapes real-world outcomes. The findings of this paper instead demonstrate a more complex process whereby offline proximity and interaction create the necessary conditions for online conflict. This can bring the business of the euphemistic “corner” onto the “digital street,” further exacerbating tensions. Moreover, this paper shows that using qualitative analysis to interrogate quantitative “big data” findings is an important step for capturing the complexity of contemporary social life.
Employees increasingly encounter workplace conditions that contribute to poor mental health outcomes and, over time, burnout. But what comes after burnout? A recent article by Philippe Sterkens and colleagues helps uncover the ongoing career effects of burnout stigma.
The study, published in European Sociological Review, draws from an online vignette experiment administered to 405 American and British managers. Participants were asked to evaluate a fictitious candidate’s suitability for an internal vacancy. The vignettes included evaluations of a graphic designer, billing and cost clerk, sales manager, and biomass plant technician, and the applicants’ descriptions were varied by gender, employment record, and performance evaluation. Data analysis reveals that, notwithstanding a successful recovery, employees’ history of having a stress leave due to burnout creates a severe obstacle that hampers candidates’ options for promotion. This is especially noteworthy considering that the combined effects of performance evaluation and organizational tenure are eclipsed by the impact of burnout history on promotion propensity.
The authors liken the unlikeliness of achieving a promotion after experiencing burnout to “boiling the ocean” and attribute it to stigma attached to burnout. The experiment reveals managers’ assumption that individuals who have experienced burnout may possess lower leadership capacities, a reduced ability to assume an exemplary role within the organization, lower stress tolerance, and a decreased likelihood of securing employment outside of the organization. The results emphasize the need for policymakers and organizations to address burnout syndrome: Overlooking a pool of internal promotion candidates due to discrimination risks losing out on vital institutional knowledge.Overlooking a pool of internal promotion candidates due to discrimination risks losing out on vital institutional knowledge.
When we think about the spread of American culture, we might picture someone eating a Big Mac in Bangladesh, listening to Bruce Springsteen in Singapore, or watching a Disney movie in Denmark. This process, often referred to as Americanization, involves the top-down export of distinctly American products to other countries. But, as Tamara Kay shows in her new Theory and Society article, culture can also spread through more synergistic processes between American distributors and local cultural producers.
The beloved children’s program Sesame Street, which now exists in over 50 countries around the world, is a prime example. Rather than simply air the American version abroad, Sesame Works, the company’s non-profit arm overseeing global diffusion, endeavors to co-produce localized versions of the show that mix its core values of tolerance, nonviolence, and equality with culturally resonant characters and narratives. For example, instead of Big Bird and Elmo, children in Palestine learn cultural pride from Kareem, a seven-year-old green rooster, whose friend Haneen is a vivacious, furry champion of women’s empowerment.Rather than simply air the American version of Sesame Street abroad, Sesame Works endeavors to co-produce localized versions of the show that mix its core values of tolerance, nonviolence, and equality with culturally resonant characters and narratives.Kay spent nearly a decade observing how representatives from Sesame Works interacted with and exchanged cultural knowledge with partner organizations to develop localized programming. She also conducted 140 interviews with key personnel. From this data, she identified two distinct processes that enable the successful co-production of global Sesame Streets. First, partner organizations and staff from Sesame Works align their interests around mutually supported values by putting forward their non-negotiables and identifying shared goals. Second, both groups deliberately and iteratively exchange complex cultural knowledge—think more abstract values and norms, like fairness, that require nuanced discussion to communicate—to make a hybrid version of Sesame Street that reflects the core values of the original in culturally relevant ways.
The success of Sesame Street’s global adaptations is particularly remarkable considering that its proliferation occurred during an era of heightened cultural polarization. By examining the interactional processes underlying this success, Kay’s study illuminates an alternative—and more equitable—model of globalization in which new cultural products are co-constructed across national boundaries. Once again, Sesame Street has taught us something about how to get along.
In his Winter 2024 Contexts feature, “An Australian Uproar Over CRT,” Dr. Ryan Al-Natour investigates the similar narratives animating anti-CRT contingents determined to keep Whiteness at the curricular core in American and Australian education. He explains, “I just want to echo the words of a social work professor by the name of Ozy Alozeim, who once said that White privilege is your history being part of the core curriculum and mine being taught as an elective.” Read the article here.
Since our founding as a discipline over 180 years ago, sociologists have become masters at studying social problems. Sociologists can explain the overt and covert mechanisms of racism, sexism, homophobia, and ableism with great precision. Our disciplinary ability to explain social well-being and flourishing, however, is dull. We need to sharpen our tools.
Many disciplines are trying to answer important questions about well-being and flourishing: What is well-being? How do we nurture it? And how do we sustain it? The most prominent subdiscipline answering these questions is positive psychology, a discipline explicitly focused on understanding how individuals come to thrive. Other disciplines, too, have made shifts toward studying well-being: educational scholars are studying how to promote healing, ecologists are studying how to regenerate forests, and economists are studying the economics of happiness, to name a few. A collection of funders—including the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation and the William T. Grant Foundation—have supported this turn.Well-being is in. But are sociologists keeping up?Well-being is in. But are sociologists keeping up?
To be sure, some sociologists have studied well-being. In the 1940s, St. Clair Drake and Horace R. Cayton examined the “axes of life,” which included staying alive, having fun, serving God, getting ahead, and advancing the collective and individual success of Black people. In the 1970s, Aaron Antonovsky introduced “salutogenesis,” the study of factors that support human health. In the 2010s, Erik Wright studied real utopias. Even more recently, Corey Keyes has illuminated the contours of mental flourishing, Michèle Lamont has taught us how to see one another, Robert Stebbins has shown us how to pursue what makes life worth living, and Laurel Westbrook and stef shuster have even revealed the joy in embodying a marginalized identity.
iStockPhotos.com // PeopleImagesEven so, sociology as a discipline is missing the tsunami of intellectual energy devoted toward the study of well-being present in other fields. Other disciplines have grown subdisciplines with a critical mass of scholarship devoted to studying flourishing. Sociology has not. A quick look at the last two decades of our flagship journals—Social Problems, the American Journal of Sociology, Social Forces, and the American Sociological Review—demonstrates this point: 90% of the mentions of “well-being” in relation to Black people are about how social structures impede Black well-being or descriptions of ill-being in Black communities. This scholarship focuses on the absence of well-being rather than its presence.
Sociologists seem to agree that we are trying to ameliorate social problems. Indeed, it is important to understand social problems. In practice, though, we appear to be putting most of our energy into studying these problems rather than investigating the mechanisms that might solve them.
Our relative absence in the study of well-being is alarming because our discipline has unique and valuable tools that could benefit this field. First, we bring a well-refined, critical lens born from studying inequality and problems. Second, we theorize about micro, meso, and macro social processes. Finally, we use a host of different methods to accomplish these tasks. The upshot is simple: we have a lot of theoretical and methodological rigor to bring to these scholarly conversations.
What might a robust sociology of flourishing look like? We argue that it’s not simply the opposite of the sociology of languishing or ill-being; understanding the mechanisms driving ill-being does not mean we know how to foster well-being. To move our discipline toward greater engagement with flourishing, we propose three strategies: ask different questions, study hotspots of well-being, and embrace paradoxes.Understanding the mechanisms driving ill-being does not mean we know how to foster well-being.Ask different questions: If we ask questions about inequality, we will understand inequality. To understand flourishing, however, we need to ask different questions. For example, instead of asking, “How does social inequality come about?” we can ask, “How does social equality come about?” Instead of asking, “What are the fundamental causes of illness?” we can ask, “What are the fundamental causes of well-being?” By asking different questions, we can open our theoretical and empirical investigations to a wider range of findings.
Study hotspots of well-being: One of the best ways to understand flourishing is to study places that seem to be producing it. We speak from personal experience here. Auldridge-Reveles’s work explores the day-to-day experiences of low-income people who grow up in the places most likely to promote upward social mobility. Murphy’s work explores the agentic and creative practices that Black people use to make rewarding, satisfying, and dignified geographies and lives.
Embrace paradoxes: Poverty and disadvantage do not preclude well-being, just as wealth and advantage do not necessarily foster well-being. The best sociological research on languishing and suffering embraces paradoxes, and these paradoxes produce compelling explanations of our social world. Paradoxes are not just the core of inequality and ill-being but also the core of well-being. There are unique and messy issues on both sides. We need to understand both.
This is an invitation to ask different questions, study hotspots of well-being, and embrace paradoxes. Join us—there is room for more in the sociology of flourishing.
Trevor Auldridge-Reveles is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of California-Santa Barbara. He studies youth well-being in rural America.
Demetrius Miles Murphy is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Southern California. He studies Black well-being in Los Angeles County.
Note: Both authors contributed equally to this work.
How do lower-income mothers respond when societal expectations for feeding children demand resources they do not have? Amidst the pressure of intensive parenting norms, lower-income mothers experience the emotional dilemma of how to feel like good mothers when they perceive themselves falling short of their own and society’s expectations, such as preparing home-cooked meals and avoiding fast food. So how do they manage their emotions to achieve a positive maternal identity?
In a recent article published in the Journal of Marriage and Family, Priya Fielding-Singh and Marianne Cooper draw from 33 interviews in the San Francisco Bay Area to examine how socioeconomically disadvantaged mothers respond to the disconnect between their desired and actual feelings of motherhood. They identify a set of emotional “downscaling” strategies, in which mothers reframe their situations to suppress negative emotions and evoke positive ones.
Mothers’ downscaling strategies included comparing their own current reality to other families who had less and reframing it as an improvement over the challenges they themselves had experienced in the past. Mothers also directed the focus away from the nutritional value of food, an area in which they often felt inadequate, to emphasize other aspects of their caregiving role, such as fostering shared meals and raising children who were not picky eaters, qualities they saw as representative of successful parenting. Through such strategies, mothers suppressed feelings of inadequacy and guilt and amplified feelings of pride and dignity.
These findings provide new insight into the emotional dimensions of social inequality, illuminating how structurally disadvantaged mothers interpret their circumstances in order to feel like good mothers despite dominant cultural narratives portraying them as deficient. In doing so, this study introduces an approach the authors term “attunement,” or the practice of paying attention to what individuals emphasize and omit, to whom they compare themselves, and the emotions contouring their narratives. Through this lens, we can gain valuable insight into the emotional texture of inequality.
How we teach the past can be a contentious issue, especially around sensitive subjects like race, gender, and genocide. But the debates are high-stakes, as history classes play a vital role in the construction of collective memory, and they demonstrate the powerful emotion elicited by what we do—and don’t—teach. In other words, as Chana Teeger argued in a recent article in the American Journal of Sociology, it’s not just the content of history curricula that matters but also the emotions elicited by these lessons.
Drawing from ethnographic observations among students in two racially and socioeconomically diverse South African high schools, Teeger sets out to answer a perplexing question: Why were students captivated by lessons about the Holocaust but bored by lessons about South Africa’s apartheid regime? Supplementing classroom observations with analyses of curricular documents, classroom materials, and interviews with history educators, Teeger found that the Holocaust was framed as a causal narrative in which students were encouraged to ask “why” questions. In contrast, lessons on apartheid primarily comprised lists of repealed laws and past events. The issues of racism, economic exploitation, and settler colonialism, which are crucial for contextualizing apartheid and continue to be relevant for understanding contemporary racial inequality, were conspicuously absent.Teeger’s findings reveal “how a past can be remembered but not engaged.”Teeger’s findings reveal “how a past can be remembered but not engaged.” The way apartheid was taught in this context deterred students from exploring why historical racist atrocities were allowed to occur and how they continue to impact the present. Students’ boredom, which arose out of the detached way the apartheid lessons were imparted, enabled them to distance themselves emotionally from histories in which their own families were implicated. This emotional disengagement, then, serves as an “emotional defense of a racist status quo,” avoiding the discomfort of confronting the racist past and its contemporary implications.
Ethno-nationalist movements have gained traction globally, with consequences as far-reaching as the modern detainment of Uygher peoples in China. But while we know that ethno-nationalist beliefs are inherently racialized, we know little about how such sentiments may vary across different racial/ethnic groups within a single national context. A new article by Sam Perry and colleagues in The Sociological Quarterly addresses this question through the lens of Christian Nationalism in the United States, asking how the relationship between Christian Nationalism and attitudes about ethno-racial exclusion or assimilation operates for ethno-racial minorities.
Analyzing data from the 2014 wave of the General Social Survey, the research team looked at 1,130 respondents’ perceptions of how Christianity was linked to being “Truly American,” focusing on prompted scenarios in which out-group members (i.e., minorities and immigrants) would be drawn into the American mainstream. The scholars focused on the responses of three racialized groups that make up nearly 90% of the U.S. population: Non-Hispanic Black, Non-Hispanic White, and Hispanic Americans. Their findings reveal how merging religious and national identities implies ethno-racial belonging, but is attenuated by the ways public discourse relates minority group members to the majority. For example, when the suggested out-group member was a domestic ethno-racial minority, Black Americans rejected assimilation in favor of maintaining unique minority groupings. Hispanic respondents, in contrast, endorsed White Christian Nationalistic ideals regarding the assimilation of domestic minority populations. When, instead, the suggested out-group members were immigrants or cultural outsiders, Hispanic Americans favored including these individuals into the majority, while Black Americans exhibited views that paralleled White Christian Nationalism.The authors’ findings reveal how merging religious and national identities implies ethno-racial belonging, but is attenuated by the ways public discourse relates minority group members to the majority.Taken together, these findings suggest political figures can gain support from racialized populations by varying their discourses related to religious, racial, or ethnic outgroup members. Christian Nationalism functions as a system that stirs the American Melting Pot through inclusive and multiculturalist or exclusive and assimilationist frames among ethno-racial minority populations, while simultaneously preserving White cultural dominance in America. By reading the room, so to speak, U.S. politicians, like Donald Trump, can maintain power by either aligning or misaligning outgroup members with their base.
“Welcome to this warrior gang and we are bad motherfuckers!” exclaimed Jenny McCarthy to an audience of applauding parents. During an early autumn weekend in 2015, nearly 700 parents gathered at the InterContinental Hotel in Dallas to learn and exchange combat strategies. McCarthy, a media personality infamous for her vaccine skepticism, exhorted her audience to remain stalwart in this fight: “If something doesn’t work in your treatment along the way, you do not give up hope!”
Every parent in the room, including McCarthy herself, was fighting the same elusive enemy: autism, a lifelong developmental disability presently estimated to impact 1 in 36 children in the United States. While there is no “cure” for autism, the parents and practitioners who make up the alternative biomedical movement believe that they can “recover” autistic children with treatments. These treatments—none backed by scientific evidence—include diets, supplements, and experimental therapies involving hormones, stem cells, and parasites.
Meanwhile, autistic rights activists argue that there is nothing inherently wrong with autism—that autism is not a disorder to be avoided but a dimension of human difference, much like gender, sexuality, and eye color. On a Sunday afternoon in 2016, just outside Harvard in Brattle Square, 16 autistic rights activists and allies quietly held signs written in bright, colorful script: Disabled lives matter! Disability rights are human rights! Remember the dead and fight like hell for the living! It was the Day of Mourning vigil, an annual demonstration commemorating disabled people killed by their caregivers. The demonstration directs public attention to the cruel injustices that result from the devaluation of disabled lives. Beyond the right to merely live, autistic rights activists demand greater acceptance and an expansion of civil rights protections to increase access to employment opportunities, safe housing, healthcare, and meaningful participation in public life.
Despite global research efforts, there remains much uncertainty about autism’s causes, prevention, and treatment. However, two groups confidently—and defiantly—claim to have the answers. The alternative biomedical and autistic rights movements separately reject the way mainstream researchers, medical professionals, and therapists understand autism. Both groups criticize the prioritization of genetic research and behavioral therapy. However, these two groups have radically different designs for how autism should be reimagined—and as parents, practitioners, and autistic people, the issue is deeply personal and urgent.Despite global research efforts, there remains much uncertainty about autism’s causes, prevention, and treatment. However, two groups confidently—and defiantly—claim to have the answers.So, who gets to speak for autism?
In my recently released book, Spaces on the Spectrum: How Autism Movements Resist Experts and Create Knowledge, I explore how parents, doctors, and autistic people collectively challenge expert authority and develop their own understanding of autism. Drawing from over three years of ethnographic research, I argue that social movements are important spaces for rejecting mainstream understandings of autism—what it is, who the experts are, who has the right to represent autistic interests, how it should be studied, and how it should be approached.
The two movements are insulated spaces in which members reconstruct autism as either a dysfunction of the body or as an empowered identity. Collectively, movement members generate ideas about autism (its etiology, risks, and characteristics) and rely on each other to act on these ideas. Through the alternative biomedical movement, parents gain access to a network of specialized practitioners, private laboratories, compound pharmacies, and treatment purveyors. They use laboratory tests to render autism visible and quantifiable, even though scientific research has yet to identify unambiguous and reliable biomarkers. “Seeing” autism opens up opportunities to measure and assert control over it with alternative and experimental treatments. Furthermore, parents find support and community within the movement, which helps them persevere when friends and family question their methods.
While the demands of autistic rights activists are completely different from those of the parent-oriented alternative biomedical movement, they employ similar strategies. The autistic rights movement is a space where members model autism acceptance within their community by normalizing autistic traits and nurturing autistic culture. At meetings and special events, members construct temporary spaces in which autism can be taken for granted—a luxury of ease that does not exist outside the movement. This means that autistic traits, like hand flapping, vocalizations, obsessions, and sensitivities, are not merely tolerated but celebrated. Building such a space also has a physical aspect; members engineer an environment that is mindful of autistic social and sensory needs. Autistic rights members collectivize around a shared diagnosis, but within this space, they transform autism from condition to culture, from disorder to neurodiversity.
The expanse of the autism spectrum has given rise to multiple—often opposing—ideas about what is best for autistic people. Autistic adults and parents of autistic people present competing values and interests that complicate autism politics and ideas about well-being. Despite these vast differences, the alternative biomedical movement and the autistic rights movement align in one respect: fear. Disability is frightening because the United States does not provide adequate safety nets like universal health coverage, guaranteed housing, universal basic income, and quality home and community-based services. Disability is frightening because we have allowed it to be. Ultimately, movement members challenge experts and reimagine autism because they recognize the stakes are high and their options are limited.
Catherine Tan is in the Department of Sociology at Vassar College. She is the author of Spaces on the Spectrum: How Autism Movements Resist Experts and Create Knowledge.
Rural life is better known for its pastoral landscapes, tight-knit communities, and relative affordability than for its vibrant nightlife. Accordingly, research on the trend of rural young people around the world flocking to urban areas has tended to focus on economic drivers, like jobs and housing, rather than cultural motivations, such as leisure and entertainment. Recent work by a team of Spanish researchers led by Laura Pavón-Benítez suggests otherwise. The authors posit that youth’s conception of nightlife in the urban-rural imaginary is, indeed, constrained by existing stereotypes, yet presents an opportunity to reimagine rural life at the same time.
To better understand how Spanish youth think about nightlife across contexts, the study, published in the journal Rural Sociology, draws on interviews and focus groups with 118 youth aged 15-24 from a diverse array of class, ethnic, religious, and sexual backgrounds. From these discussions, the researchers found, first and foremost, that youth still perceive rural nightlife as pacific and boring, while viewing cities as the center of excitement, spontaneity, and opportunity. This is because cities better meet youth’s criteria for good nightlife, which include a variety of venues, young people coming together en masse, and a plentitude of alcohol and drugs. The researchers found an exception to this, though, in the form of summer village festivals and fiestas, during which young people thought their nightlife criteria were more easily met.
Consequently, the researchers identified two cultural shifts that offer possibilities for changing youth’s perceptions of rural nightlife. Through the increased use of digital technology, like social media and messaging apps, parties are becoming easier to organize, even in the absence of traditional venues. And relatedly, in recent years, an emerging desire for alternative and flexible venues—often referred to as pop-ups—has expanded the possible locations where nightlife can unfold, potentially making rural spaces more appealing.As many rural areas look to adapt to urbanization by making their regions more attractive to young people, there has been a tendency for municipalities, and scholars, to focus on the material dimensions of youth out-migration. This study suggests that beyond jobs and housing, leisure and nightlife—in short, fun—are central in shaping how youth view rural life and their place within it.Beyond jobs and housing, leisure and nightlife—in short, fun—are central in shaping how youth view rural life and their place within it.
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In this video, Contexts feature essay authors DeAnna Y. Smith, Michelle Pannor Silver, and Emily Huddart Kennedy explain why they wanted to publish with Contexts. Spoiler: it’s a journal that does justice to storytelling.
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“Celebrate good times, come on!”
The start of a new year brings opportunities for gratitude. Check us out: here we are, all smiles, celebrating our one-year anniversary as editors of Contexts! Looking ahead to 2024, we anticipate another year of scintillating stories and invigorating new voices—starting with this issue.
These pages are packed with thought-provoking inquiries, but we are especially ecstatic about the chat we had with the inimitable Malcolm Gladwell, the first of many Q&As with global thought leaders that we will present over the year. As a public-facing magazine, Contexts is committed to translating sociological science into easily readable yet still rigorous essays. For many researchers, writing this way might feel mysterious, or even intimidating. Gladwell reveals his process for how to transform dense ideas into rad and relevant narratives that hook the reader right away. If you’ve been wondering how to find or looking to home your public voice, then you’ll find that his advice is directed to you. Gladwell reminds us that the things we find inspiring are “rarely [due] to a lightning strike” but, rather, are pieces of writing that make strategic use of lively storytelling, smart editing, and thoughtful wordsmithing.As a public-facing magazine, Contexts is committed to translating sociological science into easily readable yet still rigorous essays. For many researchers, writing this way might feel mysterious, or even intimidating.When we asked how social science inspires his work, Gladwell replied, “If I want to talk about this really complicated, heartbreaking topic, I need it to be grounded in a place that can be described.” Places abound in our first issue of the new year, in fact. Its theme, “Inside Institutions,” refers to one of the most enduring types of places in sociological lore. Institutions channel how we feel, think, and act; they enable or constrain the decisions we make and the outcomes we dream possible. As you flip through these glossy pages, you will see how the U.S. military’s vague promise of fast-tracked citizenship incentivizes service among migrants without always delivering on its end of the deal, how LGBTQ+ people are changing their faith communities, and how school choice policies are exacerbating segregation.
Peopling places is a theme that expresses across the entire issue. A particularly powerful pair of essays highlight the struggles of the unhoused. David Bacon’s evocative photo essay takes us to Wood Street, an encampment in the process of demolition at the hands of local government; the housing developments that will take its place are, predictably, well out of reach of those who will soon be evicted. This visual story is complimented by a culture essay, where we gain the personal perspectives of folks begging for change, and humanity, on Atlantic City’s famed boardwalk.
Gladwell also pushes the aspiring public intellectual to write “simply and clearly,” as though you are “having a conversation… at a party,” a theme picked up by Michael Kennedy in his anchoring One Thing I Know essay, where he reminds us that the meaning of the word “public” is itself manifold. In that spirit, another feature elevates the voices of Black women who struggle with their presentation of self in institutions where they fear that the unique biological properties of their skin will make them appear too young for the roles they have earned. Qualitative research lends itself to masterful storytelling, and this essay exemplifies its strengths. But so, too, can quantitative work produce captivating narratives, as we see in the trends section, where our authors use statistics in service of offering digestible discussions about the parallels between COVID-19 deaths and the flu, in one essay, and how, in another, perceptions about crime and drug addiction change over time and across groups of people.
From our editorial offices in Vancouver to your desk or living room, we hope you’ve enjoyed our first year. Kool & the Gang was wise to encourage us to celebrate good times. “There’s a party goin’ on right here,” like they said—in these pages, in fact, going strong still, and you’re invited! Better yet, there are gifts: from the quick-read In Briefs about some of the best research being published in sociology today to our gorgeous features, from stunning photos to thoughtful book reviews, we hope you savor all this great writing.
Seth Abrutyn & Amin Ghaziani
For a long time, sociologists and policymakers have assumed that the fact kids in some neighborhoods do better in school than others can be boiled down to the quality of the schools in those neighborhoods. In this narrative, kids at elite, hard-to-get-into schools located in leafy suburbs outperform their peers in underfunded, concrete-clad inner-city institutions. But a new study in the American Journal of Sociology finds little evidence supporting this notion.
In their study, Geoffrey T. Wodtke and colleagues utilize data from the Early Childhood Longitudinal Study and supplement it with a comprehensive range of measures designed to evaluate school quality. These measures encompass different aspects of school effectiveness, resources, and climate. For example, by the measure of “school resources,” a high-quality elementary school is one that receives ample funding, has small class sizes, and employs “the most qualified and experienced teachers.” The findings suggest that living in a disadvantaged neighborhood, as measured by the socioeconomic composition of a student’s home census tract, reduces academic achievement, but not because the neighborhood influences school quality. In fact, differences in elementary school quality do not seem to play a significant mediating role. Moreover, school quality does not appear to interact with neighborhood context, as the effects of attending higher or lower quality elementary schools are similar regardless of whether children reside in advantaged or disadvantaged neighborhoods. Taken together, the findings suggest that neighborhood effects on academic achievement are most likely explained by other factors that are not directly linked to the quality, or the composition, of elementary schools.
The authors emphasize the need for careful examination when interpreting this counterintuitive finding, since even if elementary schools are not to blame for neighborhood-based disparities in academic achievement, they can still be part of the solution. For example, the authors find that elementary schools serving children from impoverished communities are, on average, educating their first-grade students as effectively as schools in more advantaged communities. According to the paper, policies that prioritize reinvestment in schools located in underprivileged neighborhoods, rather than extensive restructuring or closure, may prove effective in enhancing educational outcomes in those areas.Even if elementary schools are not to blame for neighborhood-based disparities in academic achievement, they can still be part of the solution.
Some people still have stress dreams about high school exams. I still have stress dreams about working for David Bouley.
Famed chef David Bouley passed away in February 2024. His New York Times obituary notes that his masterful cooking transformed fine dining. As a former employee of Bouley’s, I know the class politics of fine dining says as much about Bouley’s legacy as his highly lauded cuisine. I spent a couple of formative years working at Bouley, the Chef’s namesake lower Manhattan flagship. Working for a legendarily dictatorial boss in a legendarily dictatorial business premised on inequality was an education for a budding sociologist.
I worked my way up the hierarchy at Bouley’s from a food-runner to a captain while studying at the Borough of Manhattan Community College. My first sociology professor, Jack Estes, encouraged me to do an ethnography of the restaurant. Although I (regrettably) did not follow his advice, my sociological imagination was shaped by this (mostly) terrible on-the-job education where I (mostly) learned how not to treat people. I also learned that luxury, however pleasurable, is often just cleverly concealed exploitation.
The aura of transcendent individual genius around Bouley, and celebrity chefs generally, obscured the collective labor facilitating genius. As a headwaiter, my goal was to create the illusion that nothing unpleasant could spoil the meal, while knowing the entire ritual was marinated in cruelty. Wage theft was so common that on payday, we would rush down the block to HSBC to cash our checks before they bounced. Bouley was also known to stiff suppliers. The aura of transcendent individual genius around Bouley, and celebrity chefs generally, obscured the collective labor facilitating genius.One of the most egregious examples of Bouley’s worker exploitation took place in the wake of 9/11. Bouley’s Tribeca restaurant was just a few blocks north of the World Trade Center and, like much of the city, closed following the 9/11 attacks. For months after, Bouley used his kitchen to feed rescue workers through a contract with the Red Cross. This ostensibly selfless gesture became selfish when “what started as a charitable effort became a business venture.” Bouley was profiting from every meal served to relief workers, despite the fact that he was relying on the labor of volunteer staff and donated food. Ignorant of this profiteering, I was hired as part of the team that reopened the restaurant the following February. On the one-year anniversary of the attacks, we served first responders a special five-dollar tasting menu. Bouley told us to serve the first responders cooking wine, as he was confident that they wouldn’t know the difference. I don’t know if Bouley ever read Bourdieu, but he definitely understood how to manipulate symbolic distinctions to assert superiority.
Consumption was conspicuous. A party of two could, with the right bottle of wine, easily spend three thousand dollars on dinner. Watching people order expensive wine and barely consume it, while the server’s family back home earned less than the cost of a single bottle, was radicalizing. One shift, a party of seventeen buzzed Wall-Street guys (there were a lot of buzzed Wall Street guys) got into a pissing match over their wine knowledge. They collectively expressed disdain for the wine selection chosen for the meal, a corporate meeting. Refusing to drink below his station, one guest pulled me aside and ordered a more expensive bottle. It then became a game of drunken one-upmanship, with increasingly expensive bottles ordered for each subsequent course. Dessert was paired with bottles of Château d’Yquem (at the time, a dessert wine marked up to $1,200). When I presented the bill, the host asked why I had included a $2,700 gratuity. After I explained this was house policy for parties larger than six, he shrugged, said “Good job,” and added another $2,000.I don’t know if Bouley ever read Bourdieu, but he definitely understood how to manipulate symbolic distinctions to assert superiority.Bouley remains one of the most racially and ethnically diverse places I’ve ever worked. But the “abstract worker,” per Joan Acker’s formulation, was definitely male. There was only one woman head waiter employed in the roughly two and a half years I worked there, and the kitchen was also predominately male. Exclusionary sexism encouraged a kind of locker-room masculinity, where interactions were characterized by hierarchy and hostility. This masculinity, coupled with windfall tips and the general air of ruthlessness they encouraged, was stressful, and physical conflicts could erupt unexpectedly. I once witnessed an exasperated food runner, tired of being harangued, throw palate-cleansing bowls of elderflower sorbet all over the maître’ d’s suit before fleeing the kitchen. He never returned. On another occasion, I walked into the kitchen as a fleet of line cooks ran from their stoves to stop a waiter wielding a glass liter of Evian from squaring off with a cook hoisting a pan of boiling oil. Violence is normalized in the restaurant industry, so, once they were separated, we just continued serving food.
At Bouley, the customer was not always right: the Chef believed he was. In many restaurants, complaints about the quality of diver sea scallops might garner a discount. At Bouley, such complaints could lead to a message from the chef that your meal was over, and that you and your party might prefer to dine elsewhere. Requesting well-done meat or sauce on the side might be interpreted as a personal affront. Your request might be denied, and you might face a degradation ceremony. If your picky eight-year-old didn’t like the celery sauce accompanying the rare Kobe beef (at the time, about $115 for 10 oz), too bad. You should have hired a sitter.
Eating at elite fine dining restaurants like Bouley often means subsuming one’s personal preferences to the chef’s superior taste. Understanding this was a marker of class distinction as sharp as having the money for dinner in the first place.
Zagat Buzz, Flickr CC, https://flic.kr/p/73zjW5.Eating at elite fine dining restaurants like Bouley often means subsuming one’s personal preferences to the chef’s superior taste. Understanding this was a marker of class distinction as sharp as having the money for dinner in the first place. The maître’ d repeated a story, perhaps apocryphal, of a woman having the temerity to question the Chef’s taste. Pleased with a beautiful King Salmon that had arrived in the kitchen after being flown from Alaska that morning, the Chef had it paraded through the dining room before it landed on the menu. Despite this display of freshness, a guest complained that her fish tasted fishy, which, in a normal restaurant would have been mundane. Bouley responded to this affront by telling the maître’ d to kindly inform the couple that their meal was on the house and he hoped they enjoyed it; and also that the meal had reached its conclusion, and the couple should leave. Still hoping to try the hot Valrhona chocolate soufflé, the couple demurred. The soufflé never arrived. Bouley sent busboys to remove, in succession, the couple’s plates and place settings, then the table’s fresh flowers, then the table lamp, the tablecloth, and finally the table itself. When the busboys finished, the couple sat, separated by only their humiliation. I wasn’t working during this alleged degradation ritual, but the maître’ d’s repeated (and approving) recounting of this story conveys a sense of the restaurant’s self-image. As the arbiter of taste, Bouley was ostensibly there to serve, but actually there to teach his customers.
Working for Bouley was compelling, although I often hated what it was in service of. It was also a good lesson in how people can become complicit in, and even derive a certain perverse enjoyment from, structures that objectively oppress them. Employees had an ethos I describe as a psychotic perfectionism (as an academic, some may question how far I’ve moved from this particular trait). We knew we were working at one of the best restaurants in New York City (and the world). We craved the glory—and the compensation—associated with that greatness. We fussed over the distance between the bottom of forks and the table’s edge and used razor blades to cut threads off tablecloths before service. Meals unfolded with a specific opulence and rhythm—and when the timing was right, our service contributed to the performance. I had worked in the service industry for years before I was hired, but witnessed this devotion to perfection, however pathological, only at Bouley.
As employees, we recognized that this psychotic perfectionism hurt us. Its enactment depended on a set of asymmetrical exchanges that placed us firmly, and perpetually, in lower status. Of course, I interacted with some great customers. There was something beautiful about serving the occasional teacher whose family had decided to splurge on their birthday, or the couple blowing their budget on a once-in-a-lifetime anniversary dinner. But the most entitled diners were accustomed to transmuting their whims to reality with money. Serving them, it often felt as if waitstaff may as well have been furniture, only visible or worthy of notice when a lump or fray spoiled their comfort.
One day, Jack Estes, the professor who had suggested I write an ethnography about the restaurant, told me I looked terrible. When he asked what was wrong, I told him about the working conditions and the gross inequality at Bouley. He said, “It sounds like this job is everything you are against.”He was right, so I quit.Sociology’s core concepts—social boundaries, differential power—feel less like bloodless abstractions when failing to navigate these abstractions correctly means you won’t make rent.
If you’ve made it this far, it’s clear I can’t unequivocally co-sign Bouley’s posthumous lionizing. Nonetheless, I’m thankful for the ways working at Bouley shaped my sociological analysis. Sociology’s core concepts—social boundaries, differential power—feel less like bloodless abstractions when failing to navigate these abstractions correctly means you won’t make rent. And selling the pleasures of exclusion showed me that sociology’s normative assumptions—that inequality is bad, and that we should do something about it—is, for some, less compelling than an overpriced Pinot Noir and slice of rare duck.
Victor Ray is in the Departments of Sociology and Criminology and African American Studies at the University of Iowa. He is the author of On Critical Race Theory: What it is & Why it Matters.
We are thrilled to welcome Benjamin Shestakofsky to the Contexts Blog to celebrate the publication of his new book, Behind the Startup: How Venture Capital Shapes Work, Innovation, and Inequality. In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Ben about everyday life inside a tech startup and the consequences of venture capital funding. You can watch the full interview above and find lightly edited excerpts from their conversation below.
Elena van Stee: Can you tell us about the startup you studied and what prompted your initial interest in it?
Benjamin Shestakofsky: I call the startup “AllDone” (that’s a pseudonym). It provided a digital platform for local services. If you wanted to hire a house cleaner, math tutor, or wedding photographer, you could log into this platform as a customer, and they would connect you with providers of that service in their database.
I worked at a startup prior to grad school—not in a technical role but in a content generation and managerial role. And I didn’t think that that’s what I was going to end up studying, but it ended up making a lot of sense to me. I was always fascinated by this idea that rich people give these young folks a lot of money, and all of a sudden, they’re starting a company. What was going on there?
So I knew I wanted to study startups in general, and I knew that I wanted to do participant observation research. And so I went to my network—as most novice ethnographers do—to look for connections. In this case, I had a friend who had gone to high school with one of the co-founders of AllDone, and she was able to broker an introduction.
I explained that I was interested in studying their company and offered free labor in exchange […] At first, I was an unpaid intern, just coming in one day a week. But pretty soon, [my supervisor] asked me, “Could you come in twice a week, and we’d even pay you a little bit?” And I said, “Okay, seems like a win-win.”
EVS: What do you think [your position inside the company] helped you see that you might not have otherwise?BS: Josh Seim wrote this great article about hybrid ethnography. In the article, he describes the spectrum of different ways of doing ethnography. On one end is participant observation, where the observation component is more emphasized. On the other end is observant participation, where an ethnographer is deeply involved in the activities of the field site. For me, the advantages of deep involvement (observant participation) were twofold. First, it gave me increased depth of access. The more involved I got with the company, the more I could see and understand. I got involved with all three of the company’s teams—San Francisco first, then the Philippines, and then Las Vegas. And I got to see not only what members of different groups were doing, but also the relationships between groups […] The other thing Josh talks about in his article is that observant participants [have] the opportunity to engage in tacit learning through embodying an organizational role and experiences that are, if not exactly the same, at least in some way similar to what others in the field are going through.“The story I tell is about how the financing structure for startups shapes everything that happens inside them.”
EVS: Tell us a bit about what you found and what you hope others will take away from this book.
BS: In the popular press, there are a lot of startup exposes that are very sensationalized, and they portray tech founders as villains or fools. They’re always entertaining stories. But I think they don’t always tell the whole story. There’s also a lot of academic work on algorithms, and how technology itself contributes to inequalities. As I was writing this book, I realized I had a story to tell that was more about the structures that create the conditions that seem to systematically generate tech founders who do morally questionable things and algorithmic systems that can end up harming people. […] The story I tell is about how the financing structure for startups shapes everything that happens inside them.
Benjamin Shestakofsky is in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. He is the author of Behind the Startup: How Venture Capital Shapes Work, Innovation, and Inequality. Elena van Steeis a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. She studies culture and inequality, focusing on social class, families, and the transition to adulthood.
Do you know how many missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and 2SLGBTQQIA1 people are in what is now called “Canada”? Shockingly, it appears that the police do not. In a recent article in Gender & Society, Jerry Flores and Andrea Román Alfaro investigate the inadequate response of law enforcement agencies to such crimes and the ways police (in)actions serve to make sense of, justify, and/or dismiss this epidemic of violence.
Drawing on data from 48 interviews with Indigenous peoples and 219 testimonies from the Canadian National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, the authors find that the police use four main frames to make sense of violence against Indigenous women and girls in particular. These strategies include labeling Indigenous women and girls as “runaways,” “drunks,” “prostitutes,” and/or “drug addicts,” all negative stereotypes deployed to rationalize victimization as an inevitable outcome of personal choices. Moreover, the police dismiss violence with “indifference, callousness, and lack of information,” entrenching Indigenous women’s low status in the settler-colonial states. Lastly, the police employ a pair of narratives that justify and perpetuate violence: pathologizing the behavior of Indigenous women and asserting that “there’s nothing we can do.” Both narratives uphold and reinforce settler supremacy, allowing for the continued dismissal of violence against Indigenous women.The United Nations has identified violence against Indigenous women as a human rights concern and has urged governments worldwide to take action. This study, however, emphasizes the interactions between systemic discrimination and violence faced by Indigenous women in Canada. The findings imply that the police response to violence against Indigenous women, girls, and 2SLGBTQQIA1 people is insufficient, in part, because law enforcement institutions play a role in maintaining the settler-colonial relationship. A more just and equitable global society will require working to confront and demolish the systems that allow and perpetuate violence against vulnerable people.The findings imply that the police response to violence against Indigenous women, girls, and 2SLGBTQQIA1 people is insufficient, in part, because law enforcement institutions play a role in maintaining the settler-colonial relationship.
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In her Winter 2024 Contexts feature, “Pushing Back on ‘Black Don’t Crack,’” Dr. Alicia Smith-Tran explores the ways age, gender, and race intersect to produce unique binds—and additional unseen labor—for professional Black women. “I think the broader public certainly thinks of looking youthful as the ideal,” she explains, but that’s not always the case, “depending on who you are and how you present to the world.”
Dr. Sofya Aptekar is the author of the Winter 2024 feature article “Green Card Soldiers.” In this video, she chats with Contexts graduate student editor Colter Uscola about why she wanted to publish with our journal and what she hopes readers will take away from her research. Aptekar finds that “citizenship is not actually that primary in why immigrants enlist in the military,” in the U.S., but that citizenship–or the lack thereof–“ends up shaping their experience in the military” and beyond.
Read, download, and share Dr. Aptekar’s article at: https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/epdf/10.1177/15365042241229705.
Right now, major North American media outlets are buzzing with excitement over the emergence of ground-breaking weight loss drugs like Ozempic. As treatments proliferate, however, the causes (and potential consequences) of obesity remain the topic of heated debate. In Social Science & Medicine, researchers Jaeun Lim and Benjamin Cornwell consider the likelihood of obesity in relation to social networks and individuals’ positions within them.
Using data from a longitudinal national survey, Lim and Cornwell investigate the association between participants’ body mass index (BMI) and their “structural position,” defined as their location, level of connection, and strength of relationships within a group or community. The findings indicate a strong connection between obesity and structural position: Obesity is more prevalent among people who are marginalized, have fewer connections, or have weaker social relationships within their networks. In hypothesizing the mechanisms that could explain this connection, the authors note that those in marginalized positions may have more limited access to social support, resources, and health and wellness information. They also point to the ways social norms and behaviors within the network can impact an individual’s behaviors, including diet and exercise. The role of homophily, or the inclination for people to hang out with those who are similar to themselves, is also mentioned; if a person’s social network is predominantly made up of obese people, the risk of that person being obese increases.The findings indicate a strong connection between obesity and structural position: Obesity is more prevalent among people who are marginalized, have fewer connections, or have weaker social relationships within their networks. New science has suggested and is being used to make the case that obesity is strongly shaped by genetics. This paper moves away from individualization to provide a sociological counterexample, uncovering potential community-level drivers of obesity and suggesting ways social network structure can be leveraged to affect individual outcomes.
While dogs have long been our best friend, a recent paper by Nicolo P. Pinchak and colleagues suggests that they also are a neighborhood’s best friend. The mere presence of dogs in neighborhoods, they find, plays a role in deterring urban crimes.
The study, published in Social Forces, draws on extensive market survey data that captures the presence of dogs in households across different neighborhoods in Columbus, OH. The authors discover that neighborhoods with a higher density of dogs have lower incidences of robbery and homicide. This association is particularly noticeable in neighborhoods where there is a higher level of trust among residents, but even when removing neighborhood trust from the equation, the presence of dogs is still associated with lower rates of property crime such as burglaries, automotive crimes, and theft. What’s more, these results are consistent across neighborhoods with different class and racial compositions, suggesting that dogs are good for neighborhoods regardless of who lives in them.Even when removing neighborhood trust from the equation, the presence of dogs is still associated with lower rates of property crime such as burglaries, automotive crimes, and theft. Though many would assume that dogs deter urban crimes through constant vigilance and barking, Pinchak and colleagues highlight the function of dogs in facilitating residential street monitoring. Dogs have been found to encourage routine walks within the neighborhood and social interactions among residents. They play a crucial role in promoting local surveillance, or residents’ “eyes on the street,” thereby deterring potential offenders. This is exemplified by the findings of the authors, which indicate the associations between neighborhood dog presence and the reduction of street crimes such as robbery and homicide, which often occur outside of homes. Regardless of why dogs are a neighborhood’s best friend, it is important to look after our canine companions like our lives depend on them.
“Just recently martial arts has opened up, wearing masks and staying six feet away,” teenager Ryan told us. It was May 2020, the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States. Despite widespread social distancing measures, Ryan explained that it hadn’t been so difficult to continue to stay active and participate in his favorite activities with friends.
Ryan’s mother, Nicole, was clearly proud of her son’s adherence to social distancing guidelines. She was also proud of how her neighbors in the relatively wealthy and liberal community of Greenville had responded to the crisis. Nicole contrasted her neighborhood’s response to that of a neighboring, more rural and conservative county, which she said had “twice as many deaths and about three times as many cases.” She credited Greenville’s lower mortality rate and COVID case count to its citizens’ responsible behavior, celebrating the fact that Greenville was “taking this seriously and being more responsible around it.”
Praise for the community’s response to the pandemic was common among the 38 parents and teenagers we interviewed in the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic. Our respondents lived in Greenville and Springfield, two affluent, mid-sized cities in the Mountain West. Both towns are predominantly White and liberal, with a strong outdoor recreation culture. As we wrote in a recent article published in Social Science & Medicine, access to economic and geographic resources facilitated community members’ adherence to social distancing guidelines. However, residents often interpreted their ability to distance as proof of their superior intellect or morality, especially in relation to residents of the less affluent, more politically conservative rural counties around them. As a result, pandemic distancing practices became associated with—and ultimately exacerbated—pre-existing social divides.
Although residents of Greenville and Springfield certainly experienced challenges during the early months of the pandemic, multiple factors eased their adoption of social distancing practices. Many of our respondents had jobs that allowed remote work. They typically lived in spacious homes, had abundant access to outdoor space, and owned expensive outdoor recreation gear. Prioritizing time outdoors and physical activity has long been a feature of the local culture, so many of our respondents’ pre-pandemic hobbies were easily adapted to comply with social distancing expectations. Indeed, nearly all the parents we talked to mentioned family members taking advantage of these conditions by going on walks, riding bikes, or jogging. In short, we found that residents’ socioeconomic resources and longstanding outdoor culture made adhering to social distancing guidelines relatively easy.
As the pandemic progressed, distancing practices took on moral significance. Our respondents described social distancing as respectful, responsible, and “the right thing” to do. In interviews, people spoke favorably of others who observed distancing practices and—like Nicole—expressed pride in the conscientious response of the community writ large. Social distancing thus became an identity marker and a source of social status, publicly signaling moral virtue and community membership.As the pandemic progressed, distancing practices took on moral significance.When interviewees praised their community’s response to the pandemic, they typically did so by contrasting their own responsible behavior with that of others who, they asserted, did not practice careful social distancing. Although respondents were often quick to make exceptions for members of their own community—for example, teenage children participating in locally-valued sports activities in close proximity without masking—community outsiders were judged more harshly. For example, when asked about others’ distancing practices, a mother named Christine said, “It’s been great in our really close community, but out in the larger world, no. We see a lot of people not following the rules at all.” When asked if these differences fell along social class lines, she explained:
I think it largely is a “what news you consume” divide. …There’s a giant Venn diagram of the people who are like, “Our freedoms are more important than old people dying,” and Fox News watchers, and Trump supporters. …Are you reading the Washington Post and The New York Times? Or are you reading just Fox? …I’m sure that falls along education lines, and I’m sure that follows class lines.
Another mother named Amanda made a similar point, attributing others’ irresponsible behavior to “the MAGA [Make America Great Again] factor.” She explained, “The dummy in Costco is like, ‘You’re endangering my civil liberties.’ It’s like, are you kidding me?” Through statements like these, participants used social distancing practices to reinforce moral and social boundaries between members of their own community and outsiders.
Our discussions with Greenville and Springfield residents illuminate how class-privileged individuals adapted to changing social conditions by using new behaviors to draw moral and social boundaries. Ignoring the economic and geographic resources that facilitated their “responsible” behavior, residents preferred instead to interpret their community’s social distancing response as a reflection of its moral superiority. This narrative is concerning because it subtly legitimizes existing status hierarchies and lends fuel to the growing political divide. As social conditions change, it is critical to examine how individuals ascribe meaning to new social behaviors and consider how their narratives may justify and reinforce existing social hierarchies.
Katie Mercer is a doctoral student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Colorado-Boulder. She studies gender, sexualities, and health. Stefanie Mollborn is in the Department of Sociology at Stockholm University in Sweden. She studies health and well-being among young people and families in the United States and Europe.
Do you support legalizing recreational cannabis? If so, would you be comfortable with a pot shop in your neighborhood? In a recent article published in Law & Social Inquiry, Ekaterina Moiseeva explores how not-in-my-backyard (NIMBY) sentiments have affected the implementation of Proposition 64, the legal instrument that helped to legalize recreational cannabis across California.
Analyzing the register of all cannabis licenses issued in California from 2018 and 2019, the study suggests that economically prosperous cities tend to exhibit greater support for state-level cannabis legalization. Their residents, however, are reluctant to permit legal cannabis business within their communities, even if it means forgoing potential financial benefits. For example, even though 75% and 62% of Santa Monica and Laguna Beach residents, respectively, voted in favor of Proposition 64, both city governments passed ordinances prohibiting cannabis businesses. These communities are known for their affluence, with only 10.7% and 6.6% percent of residents falling below the poverty line. In contrast, cannabis businesses are more likely to obtain permits in economically distressed cities, even those in which a majority of the population voted against cannabis legalization. Cities such as Calexico and Firebaugh, where more than a quarter of the population lives below the poverty line, have adopted permissive cannabis regulations, though only 46% and 42% of their voters, respectively, decided in favor of state-level legalization.
Affluent communities’ concerns about cannabis dispensaries exemplify the presence of drug stigma, which is deeply intertwined with issues of class and race. In this case, the disparity between the demand for cannabis legalization in predominantly White middle-class communities and the supply of cannabis businesses in economically disadvantaged Hispanic communities highlights the enduring vestiges of the stereotypes perpetuated by the War on Drugs. NIMBYism, then, distinguishes between what is considered normal versus pathological, and it grants further privileges to groups, predominantly White middle- and upper-class individuals, considered appropriate for setting community norms. To evaluate the impact of the cannabis reform movement, the author highlights the importance of directing attention toward the economically disadvantaged communities whose priorities are often overlooked due to NIMBYism.Affluent communities’ concerns about cannabis dispensaries exemplify the presence of drug stigma, which is deeply intertwined with issues of class and race.
from the editorsin brief:* “Making Mom Proud,” Elena G. van Stee * “From the Corner to the Digital Street,” by Parker Muzzerall * “A Sesame Street Feat,” by Parker Muzzerall * “Business on Board for the Environment,” by Sophie X. Liu * “Courting Eviction,” by Parker Muzzerall * “History Lessons,” by Sophie X. Liu * “Burnout Torches Promotion Possibilities,” by Sophie X. Liu * “Deplatforming Blues,” by Colter J. Uscola
q&a:* “A Goldmine of Big Ideas.” Seth Abrutyn interviews marquee author and podcaster Malcolm Gladwell about social science and the importance of storytelling.
features:* “Green Card Soldiers,” by Sofya Aptekar. Citizenship, which proves harder-than-advertised to achieve through enlistment, may come second to the “poverty draft” in drawing immigrants into the U.S. military, but it matters for immigrants’ service and the lives they lead afterward. * “Pushing Back on ‘Black Don’t Crack’,” by Alicia Smith-Tran. In a culture that lauds a youthful appearance, the author reveals how racism, sexism, and ageism combine in ways that uniquely harm Black women as they seek professional respect in White spaces. * “How LGBTQ+ People Are Creating Change in Their Faith Communities,” by Orit Avishai, Jonathan S. Coley, Golshan Golriz, and Dawne Moon. For LGBTQ+ people, religion can be a source of oppression as well as a source of healing and inspiration. Within three social conservative religious traditions, the authors uncover LGBTQ+ adherents’ efforts to make their faiths more inclusive. * “An Australian Uproar over CRT,” by Ryan Al-Natour. A look into the arrival of narratives that critique Critical Race Theory on Australian shores shows that the fears motivating the political clamor are nothing new. Indeed, the effort to keep Whiteness at the curricular core attempts to bulwark settler-colonialist logics.
in pictures:* “The Second Demolition of Wood Street.” David Bacon captures the eviction of an unhoused encampment, exposing the bones of capitalism.
culture:* “Good Schools, Bad Schools.” Syed Ali on the effects of school choice. * “Begging for Change.” Jacob Avery on common humanity.
trends:* “Is COVID-19 ‘Like the Flu’?” Jessie Jimmelstern and Elizabeth Wrigley-Field on a misleading benchmark. * “Race and Changing Perceptions of Crime and Drug Addiction in the U.S.” Reginald A. Byron on patterns and policy preferences.
books: “The Complex China Story.” Yingyi Ma on The Contentious Public Sphere and The Currency of Truth.*
policy brief:* “Navigating Psychedelic Policy.” Sean M. Vina on the potential of therapeutic psychedelics.
one thing i know:* “The Point of Public Intellectuals.” Michael D. Kennedy on contributing to a culture of critical discourse.
I first met Isaac in September of 2019. Though it was still early in the fall, the weather had already turned cold in his hometown of Motorville, Wisconsin. A middle-aged White man, Isaac worked a blue-collar union job—just as his father had before him. In that way, Isaac was like many residents of this small, Midwestern city with its roots in shipping and extractive industries. He also shared many of his neighbors’ political views: Isaac was a self-proclaimed lifelong Democrat. In his view, being a Democrat was all about using the government to redress economic inequality. He articulated this perspective when I asked what his platform would be if he ran for local office:
I would hope for a balanced budget, but that would be paid for with probably higher taxes on more of the higher income people and less on the middle class and obviously on poor people… making sure that the elderly don’t go bankrupt and have to make a choice between food and medicine. I mean, you know, making things more affordable.
I returned to Motorville to interview Isaac three more times before the 2020 presidential election the following November. I also spoke with 55 other Motorville residents and community leaders. Throughout these conversations, my interviewees consistently returned to two basic themes. First, they viewed economic inequality as the core problem facing their community and the country as a whole. Second, they believed the Democratic party had the potential to solve this problem by using the state’s power to level the playing field.
Although Isaac’s political views were largely shared by the other Motorvillians I interviewed, Motorville’s Democratic leaning sets it apart from most White, postindustrial cities across the Heartland. Based on my analysis of county-level voting trends from 1932-2016, only 4% of the White, working-class counties that formed part of the New Deal Democratic coalition still vote Democratic today. Motorville is one of them.
To understand Motorville’s distinctive politics, I also interviewed residents and community leaders in two other White, postindustrial cities that had once been part of that New Deal coalition but have since aligned with the Republican Party. Lutherton, IN, which turned to the right after the Racial Realignment of the 1960s, and Gravesend, MN, which more recently turned to the right in 2016. Over the course of 18 months, I conducted more than 400 interviews with nearly 200 people across these three places.
Comparing the political contexts of Motorville, Lutherton, and Gravesend offers insight into why and how Motorville remains stalwartly blue. In doing so, it also provides a window into the conditions driving the ongoing rightward shift of other White, postindustrial cities. As I argue in my forthcoming book, How the Heartland Went Red: Why Local Forces Matter in an Age of Nationalized Politics, local organizational contexts, and particularly the political engagement of organized labor, can help keep postindustrial cities in a working-class political coalition. Despite experiencing membership declines due to both deindustrialization and political attacks on organized labor in Wisconsin, Motorville’s unions have remained actively engaged in local electoral politics. In Motorville, elected officials take for granted that labor’s support is crucial to winning and retaining office. This ensures that community leaders cohere around a shared definition of the city’s postindustrial social problems rooted in systemic economic inequalities and requiring actionable systemic political solutions. As a result, even residents without union ties tend to share Isaac’s worldview.
Given the economic and political forces working against unions, however, this kind of engagement is difficult to accomplish. The labor movement disappeared from public life in Lutherton in the 1970s, and although unions persist in Gravesend, they have faced several setbacks in membership and have not engaged in political mobilization in decades. When unions decline and other organizations come to dominate civic and political life (or when organizations decline altogether), residents of these kinds of cities are unlikely to see themselves or party politics through a class lens. Rather than viewing themselves as disadvantaged by an unequal economic system and as potential beneficiaries of state intervention to rectify that inequality, residents are likely to adopt a racial or religious lens that construes outgroup members as an existential threat.
This was particularly true of Gravesend, where the decline of unions, civic associations, and businesses had been particularly severe. This experience of loss left residents feeling that their city was under threat of extinction, and without a coherent vision for how to move forward. They saw Gravesend as a threatened community. As a result, when politicians like Donald Trump painted socialism and immigration as twin threats to the “great” (White) American way of life, this discourse resonated with many Gravesenders.…Local organizational contexts, and particularly the political engagement of organized labor, can help keep postindustrial cities in a working-class political coalition.Thus, rather than seeing themselves as potential beneficiaries of state intervention (as did many of my interviewees from Motorville), several Gravesenders believed that the federal government was benefiting immigrants at their own expense. As Melissa, a lifelong Gravesender, told me, immigration was “overloading our system, our school system, our healthcare system, our welfare system, everything.” She concluded: “…there’s gotta be a line. We can’t help everybody.”
The kind of racialized populism that Melissa articulated, framed in terms of “us vs. them” rhetoric, is similar to what other scholars have identified as commonplace in rural and postindustrial places. But the comparison between Motorville and Gravesend shows that this outcome is not produced just because of material decline or demographic shifts experienced by individuals; rather, it is the result of people making sense of those changes from within their communities. When those communities lack coherent organizational leadership to define their postindustrial problems, as in Gravesend, residents may begin to see the state, through a racialized lens, as their enemy.
To protect interviewees’ anonymity, all names of individuals and cities are pseudonyms; state names are real.
Stephanie Ternullo is in the Department of Government at Harvard University. She is the author of the forthcoming book, How the Heartland Went Red: Why Local Forces Matter in an Age of Nationalized Politics.
Along with freedom and liberty, the pursuit of happiness is central to American life, and in recent decades, entire industries have formed around mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing. We know, though, that happiness, and the right to it, is not distributed equally across the population; American men report higher rates of happiness than women, as do White Americans when compared to their Black counterparts. While scholars often point to structural constraints like racism and inequality as the primary drivers of this gap, a new study in the open-access journal Socius suggests that parenting also plays a key role.
Like others studying the phenomenon of happiness in relation to gender and race, authors Jennifer Augustine and Mia Brantlay draw on data from the American General Social Survey to examine how the experience of parenting affects self-reported happiness among White and Black mothers and fathers. Several trends emerged from the data. White mothers appear to be less happy than their non-parent counterparts, while no gap in happiness was found between Black mothers and non-parenting Black women. As for men, there was no happiness gap between White fathers and non-parents, while Black fathers were much more likely to report being very happy than were their non-parent peers.
The authors present several potential explanations for these trends, including evidence that Black women are much more likely to view themselves as role models for their children and to spend more time with their children, and that Black mothers tend to experience higher levels of community support than do mothers in White communities. As for the dads, one explanation may be that fatherhood helps alleviate the growing social disconnectedness found among young single men, and that shifting gender norms allow fathers to more easily partake in enjoyable family activities. Black fathers specifically may be less likely to view their ability to provide financially as being synonymous with being a good parent and instead embrace an alternative model of fathering that focuses on the parent-child relationship. Taken together, these findings help to combat many of the uniquely negative stereotypes and challenges facing Black mothers and fathers, highlighting the pathway to happiness that the experience of parenting may provide.
To the Editors:
In her essay, “The Drug War Turns 50,” Emily Campbell (2022) seriously misrepresents the situation when she writes, “Today, more than half of American prisoners are incarcerated for nonviolent drug offenses.” The most recent national figures available on-line are for the year 2020. They show that of the 1,043,000 prisoners in state prisons, 62% were in for violent offenses, 14% for property crimes, and 13% for drug offenses. Of the 131,600 drug offenders, 33,700 were in for possession, and 97,800 for other drug-related charges, presumably largely for selling. As of Sept. 30, 2021, 46.7% of the 42,290 sentenced federal prisoners had drugs as their most serious offense. Of the 514,000 people in local jails, 20,000 had been convicted of a drug offense, and 109,000 had not been convicted but were being heldon drug charges, and were presumably awaiting trial ). Totalling the figures for state, federal and local jails, it is clear that the number and proportion incarcerated for drug offenses are much lower than Campbell states.
David F. Greenberg
Independent Scholar
Response
In the 2022 article, “The Drug War Turns 50,” I write, “Today, more than half of American prisoners are incarcerated for nonviolent drug offenses.” For decades, more than 50% of persons held in federal prisons were there for a drug offense. This declined below the halfway mark in 2015 and has continued to recede. My assertion was based on secondary literature that relied on dated federal prison statistics that did not take state prisons and local jails into account. I stand behind the article’s main argument which states, “From an overdose crisis and mass incarceration in the U.S. to displacement and human-rights abuses in Mexico and beyond, this expansive policy has ravaged families and communities for decades.” I would like to thank Professor David F. Greenberg for his engagement and the editors of Contexts for the opportunity to respond.
Emily B. Campbell
Writing in Social Problems, Khoa Phan Howard uses a case study of a 35-year-old interracial friendship group anonymized as the “Asian Network Group” (ANG) to demonstrate that even within a group that claims to be a safe space for Asian gay men, there is still the problem of sexual racism, which favors White men and reinforces the belief that they are more desirable.
Drawing from eight months of ethnographic observations and 33 interviews, Phan Howard delves into 4 distinct sets of significant findings. First, comparing the motivations of Asian and White individuals for entering the group reveals that the racial hierarchy of desire observed outside the group persists within it. Asians may be somewhat desirable, but their desirability is attenuated; White people encounter fewer obstacles to desirability. In addition, the study investigates a specific group practice that involves monitoring “creepy” White men while depicting Asians as “helpless.” This practice reveals underlying racial stereotypes and, unfortunately, restricts the agency of Asian men. Third, a group norm encourages Asian-White relationships and exerts pressure on those who deviate from this norm which reinforces the idea that whiteness is necessary for romantic relationships. Lastly, when looking at individual experiences of desirability, White men continue to be perceived as the most desirable group members, despite the ANG’s attempts to increase the desirability of Asian individuals.Even within a group that claims to be a safe space for Asian gay men, there is still the problem of sexual racism, which favors White men and reinforces the belief that they are more desirable.This study takes a novel approach to studying sexual racism in that it goes beyond online platforms and interviews, utilizing real-world observations of group interactions to explore the profound linkages between race, sexuality, and the replication of racial biases. In so doing, it exposes the persistence of sexual racism and White desirability, even inside a purposefully diverse community network.
As sociology faculty nationwide counted down the days to winter break, heated debate again erupted on Academic Twitter (ahem, X). The point of contention? Praxis-oriented, justice-focused sociology. The debate was sparked by the 2024 American Sociological Association (ASA) conference theme: “Intersectional Solidarities: Building Communities of Hope, Justice, and Joy.” The prevailing dissent centered around the belief that the conference theme represented a departure from traditional “scientific” sociology, with critics arguing that the connection between theory and practice was overly political and non-scientific.
These arguments are nothing new to the ASA. Just a few years ago, Mary Romero’s 2020 presidential address ignited a similar surge of debate over her call for a social justice-oriented sociology. Back in the early 2000s, Michael Burawoy famously advocated for a renewed focus on public sociology in his 2004 presidential address. Yet, the roots of this controversy in mainstream sociology predate even Burawoy’s address, dating back to 1988, when Herbert Gans coined the phrase “public sociology” in his presidential address.
Opponents of justice-focused public sociology, such as Jonathan Turner, argue that sociologists should stay in their ivory lanes, claiming that advocacy and activism are unnecessary political perversions of the discipline. Such critics tend to frame the issue as a disciplinary divide. On one side are rational scientists (themselves) who practice reason and adhere to the objective foundations of the discipline. On the other are the political activists who use sociology to add a veneer of legitimacy to their policy agendas.Opponents of justice-focused public sociology argue that sociologists should stay in their ivory lanes, claiming that advocacy and activism are unnecessary political perversions of the discipline.Is this framing justified?
The historical record challenges the claim that “traditional” sociology is objective and non-political. Foundational theorists, including Karl Marx, Emile Durkheim, and Max Weber all recognized sociology’s potential to impact society. Marx emphasized the need to not just interpret but change the world, while Durkheim posited that sociology should inform a society’s morality. Even Weber recognized sociology’s role in the public sphere (although he maintained that sociologists’ political work outside of the classroom should not lead to political indoctrination in the classroom).
Sociology has never been apolitical. Although the term “public sociology” is typically applied to scholarship with progressive political goals, sociological research has a history of being used to inform policies with distinctly anti-progressive aims, such as rationalizing the racial status quo of White supremacy. Prominent sociologists, including Patrick Moynihan and George Fitzhugh, developed and practiced a style of sociology that reinforced racist public policy. This is evident in Fitzhugh’s public advocacy against the abolitionist movement and Moynihan’s infamous “Negro Family” report (in which he argued that Black family structure was the cause of Black poverty). Ironically, such scholarship has often been construed as scientific, rational, and devoid of political bias.
An alternative tradition of public-facing sociology, often referred to as Black Sociology, emerged among marginalized scholars at southern and Black universities. Scholar activists at the Atlanta Sociological Laboratory, including W.E.B. Du Bois and Augustus Granville Dill, used sociology to intervene in sociopolitical struggles and challenge prevailing racial prejudices. This tradition aimed to spread awareness of scientific findings that challenged racial biases and advocated for policy changes based on these findings.
While the debate surrounding the 2024 ASA conference theme highlights the long-standing tension between scientific objectivity and public engagement within sociology, it’s crucial to recognize that sociology has never been apolitical, and its potential to inform social change should be celebrated, not undermined. Sociology can strengthen scientific frameworks across disciplines by uncovering hidden ideologies and politics in all scientific activities. Embracing the intersection of sociology and public engagement is not a perversion of the discipline; it’s a continuation of its historical tradition.It’s crucial to recognize that sociology has never been apolitical, and its potential to inform social change should be celebrated.
Marcus A. Brooks is in the Department of Sociology and Criminology at Western Kentucky State University. His work examines how the laundering and mainstreaming of reactionary racist rhetoric in the media, and especially social media, influences public understanding about race and racism.
Migration for the sake of survival is an unfortunate reality for many. From Ukraine to Syria, individuals make the unimaginably difficult choice to settle in new nations for self-preservation. How forced migrants navigate social life following the unique experiences that compelled relocation is not well understood. What’s more, ways of reestablishing oneself in new homelands become more difficult and less understood as subnational ethnic diversity rises with migration. This lack of understanding of an increasingly common experience justifies studies into subethnic migrant communities. In a paper in Sociology of Race and Ethnicity, Beka Guluma thus investigates how immigrants negotiate between their various racial and ethnic identity options as they acclimate to American society.
Constructing her dataset, Guluma interviewed 30 first- and second-generation Oromo peoples (the largest subnational ethnic group in Ethiopia) across two American cities highly concentrated with Oromo immigrants, Washington, D.C. and Minneapolis/St. Paul, MN. The Oromo experienced nearly 150 years of political subjugation, marginalization, and cultural erasure in Ethiopia. In fleeing oppression, Oromos drew sharp distinctions between themselves and their Ethiopian compatriots while simultaneously relating on a deeper level with Black Americans. This identity alignment was punctuated by the visible emergence of the BLM movement and the nearly concurrent murders of Hachalu Hundessa (an Ethiopian-born Oromo man) and George Floyd (a U.S.-born Black man). In this way, collective experiences from two distant nations became the crucible in which a new collective identity was forged, built up from a belief in a shared project of Black liberation as a response to cultural trauma.Collective experiences from two distant nations became the crucible in which a new collective identity was forged, built up from a belief in a shared project of Black liberation as a response to cultural trauma.A clear sense of home is essential to individual health and wellbeing. This study’s findings affirm the ways uniting under calamity and unexpected circumstances can foster affinity across diversity. At a time when forced migration for myriad reasons has become common, the Oromo demonstrate that tragedy and trauma may also lead to belongingness and the reconstruction of a sense of home and family.
Have working-class young adults inherited their parents’ politics? The 2016 election put a spotlight on working-class resentment as a driving force behind Donald Trump’s victory. But a new study by Jennifer M. Silva finds a different trend among the next generation of working-class adults: disengagement. So, what changed?
Drawing from interviews with 73 working-class young adults in a declining Pennsylvania coal town, Silva locates the root of her respondents’ disengagement in the decline of social institutions and roles that once facilitated political engagement. Lacking external sources of direction, meaning, and connection, the young adults in Silva’s study managed their suffering and made sense of their place in an unequal society by constructing narratives of the self in which pain is meaningful, the American dream is a lie, politicians cannot be trusted, and opting out of the political process is therefore not only logical but admirable. The cultural narratives readily available through social media—conspiracy theories and self-help ideologies—served to reinforce their cynicism and isolation. Consequently, the vast majority of Silva’s respondents did not plan to vote in the upcoming election.
Silva’s findings illuminate a departure from the political allegiances of previous generations: rather than fueling support for politicians of any allegiance, resentment appears to have manifested in political withdrawal for these working-class young adults. Young people are at an inflection point, and some have become so alienated that they have given up on the democratic process altogether. The question, as always, is how do we build a civil society that recognizes the worth of all its members and empowers them to participate in order to pursue greater justice, inclusion, and wellbeing for themselves and for others?Young people are at an inflection point, and some have become so alienated that they have given up on the democratic process altogether.
Decades of research have shown that economic growth directly contributes to a rise in carbon emissions—the primary driver of the climate crisis. Yet, we know surprisingly little about what, and how, other related social forces mediate this dynamic. The authors of a new study, published in the American Sociological Review, identify militarization—the development and growth of national troops and arms—as central to this relationship, especially as states increasingly view climate change as a threat to national security.
Spanning 106 countries from 1990 to 2016, the authors’ novel dataset brings together measures of military expenditure and enrollment, GDP, and total and per capita carbon emissions at the national level. Using this dataset, Andrew K. Jorgenson and colleagues investigate whether, and how, militarization contours the relationship between economic growth and carbon emissions. They find that the bigger a nation’s military, the more economic growth drives carbon emissions. Conversely, the smaller the military, the less economic growth drives carbon emissions. To explain this, the authors highlight that heavily militarized states—like the United States and Russia—rely on their national forces for economic development and that militaries themselves are capital- and carbon-intensive organizations.
Today, many states have developed preparedness plans that rely heavily on militaries to respond to climate disasters. Despite this, in late 2021, when President Biden signed an Executive Order mandating the U.S. government achieve the goals of 100% carbon-free electricity by 2030 and net-zero emissions by 2050, he exempted any activity related to the military and national security. As the findings here show, relying on militarized responses to the climate emergency while exempting military activity from climate policy targets risks exacerbating the very issue world powers are trying to combat.Relying on militarized responses to the climate emergency while exempting military activity from climate policy targets risks exacerbating the very issue world powers are trying to combat.
In the video below, USC Professor Hajar Yazdiha, author of The Struggle for the People’s King: How Politics Transforms the Memory of the Civil Rights Movement, speaks with Contexts‘ blog editor Elena van Stee about the ways political misappropriations of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s legacy fuel right-wing movements. Stick around after the interview to read Dr. Yazdiha’s blog post on the ways MLK’s legacy is mobilized to political ends today.
The Struggle for Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Memory
In the wake of the racial justice uprisings of 2020, right-wing backlash instigated a powerful moral panic around racial education. Across the United States, state governments and school districts have since institutionalized legislation to limit and even prevent altogether instruction on the complex truths of the racial past.
Counterintuitively, some right-wing strategists have sought public support for these restrictions by leveraging a powerful symbol of the Civil Rights Movement: Martin Luther King, Jr. In fact, according to a 2021 analysis by NPR, during a Republican news conference addressing the alleged threat of critical race theory (CRT) in schools, half of the conservative speakers deployed Dr. King’s (decontextualized) expression of a “desire to be judged ‘by the content of their character, not the color of their skin.’”
Despite Dr. King’s long-documented struggle for critical education, he has now been weaponized against this very cause. How did we get here?
My book, The Struggle for the People’s King: How Politics Transforms the Memory of the Civil Rights Movement, reveals that contemporary political misappropriations of Dr. King are not new, nor anomalous. Tracing forty years of the political uses (and misuses) of the memory of Dr. King and the Civil Rights Movement, I show how groups with divergent—even oppositional—aims have strategically leveraged this collective memory. And I argue that these misuses of Dr. King’s legacy have devastating consequences for multicultural democracy, rolling back civil rights and criminalizing dissent.
In honor of this year’s Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I’m excited to share a few central insights from this research. First, I want readers to understand that the political misuses of Dr. King are not accidents. They are intentional political strategies. Political distortions of Dr. King’s legacy date back to battles around the proposed King national holiday in the late 1970s and early 1980s when—after years of contention—then-president Ronald Reagan signed a bill designating the third Monday in January as a national holiday. Though this was ostensibly a progressive act, in reality Reagan despised Dr. King, opposed the gains of the Civil Rights Movement, and assured allies behind closed doors that the nation would remember a selective version of King, one that emphasized colorblind individualism and American exceptionalism.
As Reagan declared just before signing the holiday into law, “Dr. King had awakened something strong and true, a sense that true justice must be colorblind… As a democratic people, we can take pride in the knowledge that we Americans recognized a grave injustice and took action to correct it. And we should remember that in far too many countries, people like Dr. King never have the opportunity to speak out at all.”
This hijacked Dr. King would be whitewashed and co-opted to conjure a safe image of a beloved moral figure—one who had achieved his colorblind dream for America and made racism a mere artifact of the past. And indeed, this sanitized interpretation of King’s memory became a powerful political tool for a variety of right-wing social movements throughout the 1980s. Gun rights activists called themselves the new Rosa Parks, anti-abortion activists declared themselves freedom riders, and anti-gay groups claimed themselves protectors of Dr. King’s Christian vision. Conspicuously absent from these narratives were Dr. King’s statements decrying what he viewed as the three major evils of American society: racism, capitalism, and militarism. The radical King had been stricken from the record.The hijacked Dr. King would be whitewashed and co-opted to conjure a safe image of a beloved moral figure—one who had achieved his colorblind dream for America and made racism a mere artifact of the past.I argue that these misuses of Dr. King are concerning not only because they are historically inaccurate but also because they provide fuel for right-wing movements. Looking to more recent examples, right-wing politicians have drawn on this alternative history to claim that Dr. King would have opposed contemporary racial justice movements like Black Lives Matter. They’ve argued that King would oppose affirmative action on the basis that it is “racist against White people.” And they maintain that King would oppose anti-war protests even though these protests often use disruptive tactics drawn directly from the Civil Rights Movement’s playbook.
These strategies provided fuel for what we now know as “Great Replacement Theory,” the far-right conspiracy theory, amplified by public figures like Tucker Carlson on Fox News, that posits White people are being demographically and culturally replaced with non-White individuals and that White existence itself is under threat. This type of historical revisionism played a key role in the 2016 election of Donald Trump, providing a foundation for his administration to ban anti-racism trainings and roll back civil rights. It emboldened White supremacists toward violent ends, including the insurrection of the Capitol on January 6th.Conspicuously absent from these narratives were Dr. King’s statements decrying what he viewed as the three major evils of American society: racism, capitalism, and militarism.Although I’ve painted a bleak portrait thus far, I want to leave readers with a final insight from The Struggle for the People’s King that gives me hope during what feels like an impossible societal impasse. In my research, I discovered that activists advocating for immigrant and Muslim rights experienced moments of revelation and transformation in drawing parallels between the Black freedom struggle and their own efforts. These reflections resemble the practice of developing a sociological imagination, learning to interpret our own experiences within a broader social context and a longer history that reveals our underlying human connection across boundaries, borders, and time.
In turn, this recognition of anti-Blackness within immigrant communities can facilitate the development of genuine solidarities with Black Americans. In this way, collective memory becomes a bridge to unite communities in linked fate, or, as King himself once described it, the “inescapable web of mutuality.” Yet such alliances do not emerge overnight. They require the slow, relational work of spending time in community with one another, listening and learning, and building trust—all practices that are foundational elements of the Civil Rights Movement.
The Struggle for the People’s King is not just about the dangers of revisionist history. It is also about how people’s histories, beyond the mythologized “Kings,” can expand our imagined futures and our resolve for bringing them to fruition.The Struggle for the People’s King is not just about the dangers of revisionist history. It is also about how people’s histories, beyond the mythologized “Kings,” can expand our imagined futures and our resolve for bringing them to fruition.As Dr. King said, “Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter, but beautiful, struggle for a new world.”
Hajar Yazdiha is in the Department of Sociology at the University of Southern California. She is author of The Struggle for the People’s King: How Politics Transforms the Memory of the Civil Rights Movement.
We are thrilled to welcome Michèle Lamont, Mari Sanchez, and Shira Zilberstein to the Contexts Blog in celebration of Michèle’s new book, Seeing Others. In this post, blog editor Elena van Stee chats with Michèle, Mari, and Shira about Seeing Others and their respective studies on Gen Z young adults. You can watch the full interview above and find lightly edited excerpts from their conversation below.
Are there right and wrong ways to care about the environment? For Dr. Emily Huddart Kennedy and Carly Hamdon, “Contexts was just this ideal outlet to be able to tell a broad audience a short story” about why policing a hierarchy of environmentalism “might feel righteous and important, but it actually weakens social ties at a time when we need a really cohesive civil society” to deal with climate change. Read, download, and share the full Summer 2023 feature article, “Do People Who Drive Big Trucks Care about the Environment?” available at https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/15365042231192496.
Are ambition and planning the keys to success for young people today? Popular media and many researchers would say yes. Such accounts depict navigating the transition to adulthood as a series of relatively straightforward steps: enroll in college, delay family responsibilities (especially childbearing), and get a steady job. And to execute these steps, young people simply need a good plan.
My research suggests otherwise. As I wrote in my book, Best Laid Plans: Women Coming of Age in Uncertain Times, plans alone cannot ensure young people achieve their goals. I followed 61 middle-class, working-class, and poor young women from high school into young adulthood, examining their plans for the future, how they pursued those plans, and how their pursuits paid off. What I found is that these young women not only aspired to go to college and obtain a steady, well-paid job, but they planned for these futures, too. They talked to guidance counselors, parents, and other adults in their orbit. They knew the jobs they wanted and the years of education required to obtain these jobs. They applied to reasonable colleges.
Despite all these efforts, I found the young women’s pursuit of higher education, good jobs, and stable family lives were stratified by social class. For middle-class young women with resources and a private (family) safety net, plans for the future often paid off. For many working-class and poor young women, plans not only held them back but often contributed to them falling further and further behind their peers (and into debt they struggled to repay). The plans these young women made kept them locked into an educational system that was not set up to reward their efforts.Young women’s pursuit of higher education, good jobs, and stable family lives are stratified by social class.Why was this the case? I argue that the postsecondary educational landscape is labyrinthian, poorly regulated, and expensive—and that this reality, combined with very real advantages of a college degree, creates a system in which most young people go to college but many get lost along the way.
Among the young women I interviewed, there was a share of mostly middle-class women who traversed this landscape with relative ease—as I put it in the book, they were on track. Middle-class young women relied on adults they knew to point them to the right colleges, internships, and shadowing opportunities. They entered exclusive internal college programs such as honors colleges or pre-professional programs that offered resources and support. A small number of working-class young women also managed to navigate this terrain, albeit into less exclusive college programs.
Other young women—working-class, downwardly mobile middle-class, and upwardly mobile poor young women—got stuck holding on. These young women enrolled in college, worked full-time or intensive part-time hours, and helped their families with care work and household upkeep. Many found that the demands of work and family competed with schoolwork for their time. Some were placed into non-credit bearing remedial coursework even after performing well in high school, a problem that is more common than you may think. Others simply felt they did not belong. Many dropped out and made new plans, but without the benefit of advisors. Some entered unaccredited for-profit college programs, others churned through multiple colleges, and some completed short-term degrees but could not find full-time work in their field of study. They accrued debt, but not advancement. And yet they continued to push themselves—holding on, but barely—and blamed themselves for not making the “right” choices.
The last group comprises women who were navigating rough seas. These women hailed from poor families or were downwardly mobile from middle- or working-class families. They, too, had high hopes and reasonable plans in high school. Almost all entered college but soon dropped out, starting a cycle of churning through colleges and workplaces. Predatory postsecondary programs that enmeshed them in debt, a labor market that treated them as disposable, and family responsibilities—including, for most, having children themselves—overwhelmed them. Most were neither working nor in school when I interviewed them in the final wave of interviews.Planfulness—that is, the ability to make rational goals—is only useful when our institutions are set up to reward plan making.Our current postsecondary system takes advantage of the planfulness exhibited by many working-class and poor girls, setting them up to be ensnared in what sociologist Stefanie DeLuca and colleagues have called “educational traps,” such as for-profit postsecondary institutions, that don’t lead to useful degrees. And without labor market protections, these young women are equally trapped by low-wage, precarious work. Stuck between these two worlds and the demands of family life, many continue to try to complete a degree (or a second degree) in order to work their way up the occupational ladder; now, however, without the guidance they had in high school, these attempts lead more to debt accrual than labor market payoff.
Ultimately, my hope is that readers of my book will come away with a better sense of how planfulness—that is, the ability to make rational goals—is only useful when our institutions are set up to reward plan making.
Jessica Halliday Hardie is in the Department of Sociology at Hunter College, CUNY. She is the author of Best Laid Plans: Women Coming of Age in Uncertain Times.
Runaway income segregation and inequality call attention to the changing conditions of life on each side of the growing economic divide. But as social worlds diverge along socioeconomic fault lines, it is important to ask: How do we learn about the lives of others? A recent study of mine tackles this question directly, as I […]
Dr. Katja M. Guenther, author of “Understanding the Durable Myth of the ‘Irresponsible Pet Owner,'” in the Summer 2023 issue of Contexts, explains that by approaching this myth as a raced, classed, and gendered phenomenon, we can “encourage people to rethink some of their own deeply held assumptions” and the ways these “powerful discourses” exist […]
The day was cold, dreary, and wet, as so many November days are in New England. The weather kept attendance low at an English class for immigrant parents in Somerville, Massachusetts, a small sanctuary city that has rapidly gentrified in the last decade. The class was provided by the city’s school district, in partnership with […]
In her Summer 2023 feature article for Contexts, Elena G. van Stee studied the ways students from different class backgrounds experienced and understood parental support differently as they made decisions about where to live during COVID-19 campus closures. Writing for Contexts, she says, allowed her to focus on storytelling, to “take a deeper dive into […]
She’s a disarmingly earnest editor, translator of academia, nonfiction revisionary, and domesticated roustabout. Ladies and gentlethems, meet Contexts’ Senior Managing Editor, Letta Page! Letta’s the one with the magic polish, working behind the scenes to wrangle our sociological chatter into the crisp, jargon-free language you know and love. Hi, Letta! We’re thrilled to have you […]
Part 3: “How Would I Get Past the Wall?” May 24, 2022 The much-anticipated day had finally arrived: it was time for my immigration interview. In the past, the interview used to be completed in a single day, but now, purportedly due to COVID-19, it was spread over two days. Standing alone in line to […]
Part 2: “Do You Have Any Sexually Transmitted Diseases? Are You Sure?” May 18, 2022 We arrived in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, later that day. Stepping out of the airport, a scorching and parched air greeted our bodies, jolting us out of the daze that had rendered us speechless throughout the entire flight. Though mere miles […]
Part 1: “No Matter What Happens, Please Don’t Leave Me Here” In 1990, my parents brought our family across the Mexican/American border. I was two years old. The subsequent thirty-two years of my life were marked by a condition of “illegality,” which concluded only after a painstaking legal process that granted me U.S. permanent residency […]
Greetings from Vancouver, the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the xwm∂θkw∂y’∂m (Musqueam) People. We are grateful to them for passing their culture and caretaking practices from one generation to the next on this coastal site. We also take this time to acknowledge that you, dear reader, are located on the territories of many different […]
from the editors in brief: “The Way We Were?” by Rose Xueqing Zhang. “Editing Online Communities,” by Sophie X. Liu. “Cultivating Urban Environmentalism,” by Parker Muzzerall. “Anxiety and Alcohol,” by Rose Xueqing Zhang. “Coping through Humor,” by Sophie X. Liu. “Mapping the Megachurch,” by Parker Muzzerall. “Behind the Scenes of Financial Crises,” by Parker Muzzerall. […]
Contexts section editors are the amazing folks who make sure that we have a steady pipeline of fascinating work to share as culture reviews, photo essays, trends analyses, book reviews, and p9olicy briefs. Today we’re introducing peerless University of Toronto sociologist Jooyoung Lee, editor of the Culture section and author of Blowin’ Up: Rap Dreams in […]
Coupled up and cohabitating—with your parents? Over the past 50 years, the number of households with more than one generation has grown dramatically all over the world. A recently published paper in the Chinese Sociological Review investigates how multigenerational living arrangements influence the time allocation of young spouses. By surveying 9,359 couples, Muzhi Zhou, Man-Yee […]
Have you recently published an important new article or book? Let’s amplify those findings even further! At Contexts, we accept a range of original feature essays that we put through the peer review process. Because we are committed to translating complex sociological research into short, rigorous, and readable articles, we even encourage authors to pitch us […]
In 2020, the number of reported hate crimes in Canada rose by 37% to hit its highest recorded level. But what happens after reporting? Writing in the Canadian Review of Sociology, Timothy Bryan draws on 34 semi-structured interviews with police personnel as well as analysis of government and police policy documents to examine how the […]
Now that you’ve met the co-editors of Contexts, Seth Abrutyn and Amin Ghaziani, it’s time to get to know the section editors—those amazing folks who make sure that we have a steady pipeline of fascinating work to share as culture reviews, photo essays, trends analyses, book reviews, and, of course, policy briefs. Today, we start with […]
Disclosing a positive COVID-19 test result can be fraught in the best of circumstances. But in South Korea, the authors of a recent article in Social Science & Medicine find, the government itself stigmatized certain social groups through its wider releases of patient information. Consequently, the government generated a “trust paradox” in which members of […]
Europe’s growing ethnic diversity stands in contrast to rising anti-immigrant sentiments, discrimination, and racism. To investigate beyond conventional survey methods and capture such sentiments as expressed online, sociologists Anastasia Menshikova and Frank van Tubergen waded into Twitter. There, using automated text analysis, they were able to determine a pattern by which online anti-immigrant rhetoric paralleled […]
Contexts co-editor Seth Abrutyn is a generalist, a theorist, and an ethnographer whose work delves deep into pressing social problems, including youth suicide contagion and clusters. We’re extremely grateful for “surprisingly fancy” Seth’s editorial prowess—as well as his willingness to answer a few questions about his vision for the magazine going forward. Who the heck […]
How faculty hiring and promotional practices convert unearned advantages into indicators of “merit."
Civic engagement can take on many different forms: volunteering at a food bank, attending a town hall, and serving on a committee are just a few examples. During times of political unrest, as the needs of the community and country begin to coalesce, the lines between these various modes of civic engagement can become blurred. […]
Black sociology analyzes society from the standpoint of Black people to highlight how historical social structures affect them today. Its scholars-activists bridge academia and the public from a non-eurocentric perspective by addressing the interconnectedness of racial and economic inequalities impacting Black Americans.
Contexts co-editor Amin Ghaziani is a vivacious scholar of urban sexualities, a dedicated educator, a prolific author, and a world-traveler eager for adventure. We’re so lucky he’s taken the time to dedicate himself to editing our magazine, and while he’s at it, to answer a few questions about his ambitions for the publication in the […]
Research recently published in Gender & Society examines homophobic bullying among American high school students, finding that gender expression, rather than sexuality, may be the targeted characteristic. Analyzing survey data from U.S. public high schools with a nearly 150,000-student sample size, Joel Mittleman further finds that the relationships between gender expression and bullying victimization are […]
The recent SCOTUS decision on affirmative action does not just perpetuate inequality in college access—it also intentionally pits racial minorities against each other.
Amid heightened scrutiny, how do tech workers make sense of diversity within their own companies and arrive at the conclusion that they're "better than most"?
Elite cultural fields often lack diversity, and the fine dining field is no exception. Though we know that marginalized producers of cultural goods, such as artists and chefs, are often excluded from positions of prestige, much less is known about how racial inequality specifically affects how critics, and even the public, evaluate their products. In Social […]
The Florida professor’s inevitable termination was the cause, not the consequence, of his speech.
What types of digital humor emerge during an outbreak? And how does humor help negotiate themes of risk, contagion, and connections with others, particularly within Black Twitter?
Why are conspiracy theories so alluring? Sure, we’ve all had a hunch about something that ran counter to conventional wisdom, but that is vastly different from a systematic belief that a group of powerful people is planning to carry out evil deeds. Yet, during COVID-19, conspiracy theories proliferated, especially on social media platforms like Twitter. […]
The COVID-19 pandemic exposed how college students from different class backgrounds seek help from their parents.
What Kobe Bryant’s All-Star nomination can teach us about cumulative inequality and the persistence of status hierarchies.
A sociologist focused on food systems, Sarah Elton aptly says that she gravitated toward Contexts because it “makes complex ideas… nicely digestible for anyone who wants to read them.” In her new article, “Eating for Two Trillion,” she explains that gut microbes are part of the food system and, “”if we think of the gut […]
Elena van Stee, Ph.D. Candidate in Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania, is the newly-appointed Blog editor for Contexts, the public-facing magazine of the American Sociological Association, currently under the editorship of Amin Ghaziani and Seth Abrutyn in the sociology department at the University of British Columbia.
The Contexts Blog offers timely, snack-sized sociological takes on pressing social issues, providing informed social commentary rooted in research and theory. In this post, Amin and Seth introduce Elena to our community of readers.
AG and SA: Hi, Elena! We are delighted to welcome you as the new Blog section editor! Our readers would love to meet you: who you are, where you are, what you do. Please introduce yourself.
EV: Hi! I’m a Ph.D. Candidate in Sociology at Penn. I study culture and inequality, focusing on social class, families, and the transition to adulthood. I’m currently conducting interviews for my dissertation, which examines how young adult college graduates understand and negotiate parental support.
The inspiration for this project stemmed from my previous study, which looked at college students’ relationships with their parents in the wake of COVID-19 campus closures. In short, I found that class-privileged students became more dependent on their parents, while those from disadvantaged backgrounds generally took on more adult responsibility than ever (their parents sometimes depended on them). I won’t go into too much detail here because I want you to pick up a copy of Contexts’ summer magazine—watch for my feature essay in August!
Anyway, these findings sparked my curiosity about how young adults and parents understand their roles and relationship. We’re living in a period in which young adults face increasing economic barriers to independence and cultural ideas about parental support are changing. How, in this context, do young adults and parents attach meaning to parental support (or lack thereof)? This is the question driving my dissertation research.
As for where I am—my partner and I are dealing with the “two body problem” familiar to many academics (sociologist Jaclyn Wong has a great book on this, by the way), so my answer depends on the day of the week! You can usually find me in Philly, in Boston, or in my mobile office—the Amtrak Acela.
AG and SA: Personally, what do you love about Contexts? What is its unique contribution to the discipline?
EV: Contexts excels at its mission of making sociological research rigorous, readable, relevant, and rad—the 4 Rs of the magazine!—for a general audience. But I think Contexts also plays a second and important, though perhaps less acknowledged role—making sociological research accessible to other sociologists.
As academics, what we read is often highly constrained by the demands of publishing and teaching, limiting our exposure to research beyond our respective subfields. By featuring a range of topics and perspectives in concise, jargon-free language, Contexts provides a welcome remedy to this academic tunnel vision. I’ve discovered fascinating research in Contexts on a variety of topics outside my primary research areas that I would have been unlikely to see had it appeared solely in a conventional academic journal (a good example is Dan Cassino’s recent feature on crypto and masculinity—highly recommend!).
AG and SA: Why are you excited about being the Blog section editor?
EV: The Contexts Blog takes many of the magazine’s best features to the next level—blog essays are timely, jargon-free, and ultra-concise. I’m excited to help authors report their sociological insights in a way that reaches the diverse audiences who stand to benefit from these insights—not only other social scientists, but also journalists, policymakers, and general readers. Your grandmother probably won’t make it through the methodological appendix of your book, but she might actually enjoy reading your Contexts blog post!
As for benefits—there are so many. First, it’s a great way to get the word out about your research. We throw the full weight of our social media presence behind blog posts, and those that have been especially relevant and timely tend to get great coverage.
Second, I think there are intrinsic benefits to the writing process for authors. You only get 750 words. You can’t soften your argument with academic jargon, and you can’t hide your findings behind a literature review. The process of distilling complex research findings into simple and concise language challenges us all to identify the essence of our intellectual contribution and state it boldly.
So, got a fresh sociological take on a social issue? You know where to find me. Start with a pitch if you want to test the waters, or dive right in and send me your full blog post. I can’t wait to hear from you.
Learn more about Elena here.
See our call for blog posts here.
Dr. Catherine Corrigall-Brown, co-author of “Art Attack: Protest Takes Aim at Climate Change” and department head of sociology at the University of British Columbia, talks about welcoming the Contexts editorial office to her university. Read her article, co-authored with UBC PhD candidate Tom Einhorn, at ctx.sagepub.com, where it is free to read, download, and share […]
Dr. Leah E. Glass is an industry researcher whose new Contexts feature explores the (in)effectiveness of DEI training in a nonprofit context. DEI is a billion-dollar industry, and initiatives are now ubiquitous. But, Glass argues, we must ask what we’re trying to accomplish and what’s going on when well-intentioned people and well-intentioned work fall short of substantive change. “[E]ven some of the most progressive Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work and initiatives–in my case, it was a White supremacy culture training…–these things actually result in little organizational change and, in some cases, can actually have adverse effects.” In her study site, “despite DEI initiatives and training,” a culture of unnamed expectations and racialized differential treatment persisted. Yet when “white staff utilized the new language and vocabulary from the trainings,” the result “was a very convincing performance that made this organization appear to be antiracist and progressive, but there was really no substantial organizational change.” Read “Fool’s Gold: DEI and the Performance of Race Consciousness,” free to download and share through June 17, 2023.
Does a big award mean a blank check for creative careers? Winning a Grammy is a dream come true for many musical artists—it’s what management and sociology experts Giacomo Negro, Balázs Kovács, and Glenn R. Carroll call a status-shifting or symbolic award—but its relationship with artists’ post-win output is less than straightforward.
In their American Sociological Review article, the authors use a neural learning approach to analyze degrees of difference in the music of Grammy winners before and after their wins and in relation to other artists’ albums. Their data, stretching from 1959-2018, includes thousands of artists. The scholars find that honorees gain leverage and are more likely to pursue unique creative paths after their wins. Still, consumer tastes and critical expectations form a sort of buffer, potentially keeping that creativity within bounds. For the also-rans, missing out on the golden gramophone may mean another limitation: analysis shows their subsequent music tends to emulate the award-winning artist rather than exploring new sounds and styles.
Crucially, this innovative research approach opens a new avenue for scholars to get creative in studying status and change in the sphere of cultural production.
“Even if… cryptocurrency goes to zero, [buying it is] still rational, because the reward men are getting from buying that cryptocurrency is not financial reward, it’s social. It’s identity.” In this video, Dan Cassino talks through the main points of his Spring 2023 Contexts article, “Crypto, Meme Stocks, and Threatened Masculinity,” with Contexts graduate assistant Parker Muzzerall.
In the Spring ’23 issue of Contexts, Jessi Streib writes about the hidden opportunity structure—a luckocracy—that neutralizes class advantage and thus equalizes wages across college graduates from divergent class backgrounds. “If we all can recognize that luck plays a role in our earnings—and that we might get unlucky—that does shape how we want to think about the workforce we want to create.” Click here to read the article, and click here to listen to a longer podcast with Dr. Streib about her new piece.
Oh, hello, sociologists!
We’re looking for a few good fearless writers itching to reach the public by writing some short, punchy pieces. Is that you? Are you looking to get in on a timely issue, big discussion, or debate? Then you are ready to write a blog post for Contexts!
Blog essays are easy and effective ways to communicate big ideas to broad audiences. Why, you wonder? Let us break it down:
- Blog posts are super flexible. We have few rules about style or substance, so you can test out, or set free, your authorial voice.
- We don’t send blog essays out for peer review. That makes them quick—and who doesn’t love a quick turnaround in the marathon publication game?
- We use the full force of our social media machine to promote your essay—Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, you name it, we’re on it.
- Grad students: you can put this stuff on your CV!
All this can be yours without compromising on excellence. Your piece will be read and edited by several expert eyes to ensure that it is, like everything we do in the magazine, rigorous, readable, relevant, and rad.
So, what are you waiting for? Sharpen your pencils, dust off your keyboards, and start writing! Pitch us, if you want to test the waters, or dive right in and send us the full piece in all its sociological glory.
Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Just wanna say hi? Direct all correspondences to our brand new blog editor, Elena G. van Stee, at Penn (evanstee@sas.upenn.edu).
Virtually yours,
Seth and Amin
Michelle Pannor Silver, the author of a Spring 2023 feature titled “The Retirement Paradox,” says “I love the idea of sharing research in an accessible way” and that she appreciates “being in such good company” among Contexts’ authors. Here, she discusses the “fundamental tension between the autonomy, flexibility, and the lack of boundaries” that are associated with retirement and “our interest in maintaining structure, a sense of connection to society, and personal fulfillment”—the paradox at the heart of her new piece. To read more of Dr. Silver’s research, visit SAGE.
“It’s the economy, stupid,” quipped former President Bill Clinton in what was and still remains an evergreen assessment. In our second issue, Money Matters, the tangible yet also insidiously invisible ways in which the economy weaves its way into every nook and cranny of modern life reveals itself to you, our readers. Of course, this theme reverberates far beyond the pages of Contexts, echoing year after year, decade after decade. Since Clinton first made that pithy remark, two recessions, a pandemic, and a destabilized economy have dramatically changed the organization of work and work practices. More recently, a stubborn period of rampant inflation, rising interest rates, and hot-hot housing markets have pushed the American Dream further out of reach, leaving all kinds of tumult in its wake: domestic life, consumption habits, work and play, and our aspirations for the future. Money matters, you see—or perhaps we should say, matters of money are on our minds.
In our first feature, you’ll see how universities are equalizing machines—not because they create meritocracies, as you might think—but because they filter students into a slot machine-like social system that distributes outcomes by luck. But even this “luckocracy” manages to level the playing field, ensuring that students earn about the same as they come out of college. Our authors also tackle the allure of cryptocurrency. Crypto investments have less to do with financial goals—surprise!—and more with the desire among young men, who are its primary consumers, to assert their masculinity.
Page after riveting page, the remaining features ask what it means to be retired, take lessons from our microbiome on equity in food costs and consumption, and consider how DEI practices have both succeeded and failed at achieving occupational and economic parity.
The specter of money looms large in our two photo essays as well. The first asks how people come to value art in relationship to the status of the artist. An Indigenous artist and Mexican sociologist collaborate to explore the spaces where their disciplines converge. In the second photo essay, we travel to the white cliffs of Dover in the U.K., where a “border crisis” is unfolding as refugees—described in dehumanizing ways as “economic migrants”—seek asylum in the aftermath of Brexit. The photos in this essay present the perils and challenges of exclusionary nationalism as we imagine an alternative future.
While our tenure as editors has been brief (just look at us, still taking delight in our first issue), it has already been a rigorous ride! You might recall that one of our major goals is to grow our international community of readers, to globalize the public face of our discipline. We keep that spirit alive in this issue. A prolific British journalist tells us how she ensures that queerness, feminism, and human rights remain relevant in the media, while a culture essay explores climate protests in European museums. Our long-form, eminently readable book review draws on developments in China and the U.K. to create a conversation about nationalism, knowledge production, and state policy, while our in-briefs take us to South Korea, Canada, and Ukraine, among other places. In the span of just one issue, Contexts will take you around the world!
As we continue to develop our vision of a global, public sociology, we cannot stress enough how inspired we have been by all the great stuff you send us. And we want even more of your rad writings. To paraphrase Nick Kristof, the Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist we interviewed in our last issue: Sociologists, We Need You!!
Seth Abrutyn and Amin Ghaziani
University of British Columbia
from the editorsin brief:* “A COVID-19 Trust Paradox,” by Rose Xueqing Zhang * “Anti-Immigrant Influence,” by Sophie X. Liu * “Behind Bullying,” by Rose Xueqing Zhang * “More Family, More Time?” by Rose Xueqing Zhang * “Determining ‘Hate,'” by Sophie X. Liu * “What It Is To Be Ukranian,” by Parker Muzzerall * “Companions in Conspiracy,” by Parker Muzzerall * “The Racist Palate,” by Sophie X. Liu
q&a:* “Their Truths: Feminist and Queer Kaleidoscopes.” Amin Ghaziani interviews Amelia Abraham about focusing the world’s attention on queer, feminist, and human rights issues.
features: “America’s Hidden Equalizing Machine,” by Jessi Streib. Inside a labor market luckocracy, where low information and class-neutral hiring criteria even the odds for high earnings. * “Crypto, Meme Stocks, and Threatened Masculinity,” by Dan Cassino. They’re not good investments, so what’s driving their popularity? The answer lies in who* is buying Bitcoin, meme stocks, and similar financial instruments. * “The Retirement Paradox,” by Michelle Pannor Silver. Aging and retirement have changed dramatically in recent decades, and expectations about both need updating. Today, those willing and able to retire must also consider their hopes, capacities, and creative potentials. * “Eating for Two Trillion,” by Sarah Elton. Thinking of the gut microbiome as part of the foodscape reorients us to a food justice perspective on equality and access to human health and flourishing. * “Fool’s Gold: DEI and the Performance of Race-Consciousness,” by Leah E. Glass. Despite expensive investments in DEI programs, research within a non-profit reveals rhetorical race-consciousness rather than real-deal change.
in pictures:* “Art+Labor+Sociology.” Jess Tolbert, Maria Cristina Morales, and Nancy Plankey-Videla on value and aesthetic labor. * “White Cliffs Country: The Migrant Crisis and England’s Border Landscape.” Phil Hubbard and Stuart Leech on the politics of a bulwark shore.
culture:* “Art Attack: Protest Takes Aim at the Climate Crisis.” Tom Einhorn and Catherine Corrigall-Brown on messes with a message.
trends:* “The Continuing Association Between Racial Prejudice and Government Assistance Beliefs.” Lawrence M. Eppard, Troy Nazarenus, Lucas Everidge, and Debbie Matesun on racist ideas about welfare recipients. * “Race and Contemporary Perceptions of Public Accommodations Inequality.” Reginald A. Byron on reports of poor service.
books: “Science Wars.” Charles J. Gomez on The Quantified Scholar and Study Gods*.
policy brief:* “The Burden of Data: Court Practices Tilting the Scales.” Kat Albrecht and Kaitlyn Filip on data disadvantaging defendants.
one thing i know:* “Tackling an Accumulation of Inequities.” Mindy Fried on policies to promote women’s economic security.
Dr. Stephanie L. Canizales is the author of the Winter 2023 Contexts article “Caught in the Dragnet: How Punitive Immigration Laws Harm Immigrant Community Helpers.” In this video, she discusses the ways well-educated, class privileged, and otherwise well-situated professionals who work with migrants and their children experience secondary trauma—and what that tells us about the experiences of migrants themselves.
Recent years have seen increased emphasis on fact-checking in journalism, politics, and academics. Ethnography presents a particular set of challenges that some scholars have directly addressed. Research sites are often masked, subjects are anonymized, and details are altered to prevent close scrutiny. Even so, there are ways to test the accuracy of questionable ethnographic findings.There are ways to test the accuracy of questionable ethnographic findings.The following is a how-to-do-it guide to fact-checking dubious claims, using a vignette from a well-regarded ethnography as an exemplar. I have omitted the name of the author and the title of the book because my goal is to show the means of investigation, rather than critique any one individual or specific work.
The author’s field site was a university cafeteria, where they obtained a job in order to observe staff and customers. After some weeks, it occurred to the author that many of the mostly African American employees could barely read. Some workers even had trouble with the timecards because their names were written in cursive, which, according to the author, a significant number of employees could not recognize.
Some of the literacy-challenged older women would therefore stand under the clock, saying they could not reach their cards, and asking a taller person to retrieve them. Some of the younger men would ask friends to log out for them, giving the appearance that they were stealing time, but, like the women, only covering up their inability to read their names.According to the author, the reading problem affected several people in each age group, amounting to nearly 10% of the 70-person work force, but that struck me as quite implausible. Could there actually be such a significant number of people in the 21st century United States who could not recognize their own names?Could there actually be such a significant number of people in the 21st century United States who could not recognize their own names?
While it is perhaps conceivable that many employees were relatively poor readers, it is hard to imagine they were so illiterate that they had to use elaborate ruses to punch out every afternoon. After all, they had been able to complete job applications, navigate the transit system, cash their paychecks, and pay rent and other bills.
I worked for two years as a legal services attorney in a low-income neighborhood on the West Side of Chicago. As a poverty lawyer, I interviewed around 1,000 people, nearly all of whom were African Americans. Unlike the author’s co-workers, a great number of my clients were unemployed. Many received public assistance or disability payments, some lived in public housing, and all had legal trouble. I did not encounter a single person who appeared to have difficulty recognizing their own name (they all signed consent forms, almost invariably in cursive).
I could not go back in time to the author’s research site, but there were other ways to evaluate the reading claim. I surveyed the cafeteria workforce at a similarly located university, to see if there was even one person who fit the author’s description. I also contacted literacy organizations and reviewed national studies to determine the prevalence, if any, of such profound reading deficits among employed adult Americans.I could not go back in time to the author’s research site, but there were other ways to evaluate the reading claim.The head of Northwestern’s Chicago Campus food service told me that he had never encountered an applicant or employee who was unable to read his or her own name. In 12 years of food service management, he had seen some applicants who could not effectively read recipes, and he had employed one person, as a cashier, who could not adequately read or submit reports (he moved this employee to another position). He was surprised, however, at the suggestion that an employee could not identify his or her name, and immediately said that it had never happened.
The National Assessment of Adult Literacy, conducted in 2003, found that 14% of adult Americans fall below basic reading skills, although that number included those who were cognitively impaired or not literate in English. The least skilled English speakers were able “to locate or identify information” in “familiar or uncomplicated materials.” I did not find any data on the inability to identify one’s own written name. That elementary skill was not included in either the 2003 study or in the 1992 National Adult Literacy Survey, evidently because it is not characteristic of a measurable population group. Instead, the very lowest literacy level—called “below basic”—comprises those who can still locate information in a sports story or underline a sentence explaining an action stated in an article.
I also contacted the Director of Programs for Proliteracy, an organization that “develops and promotes adult literacy learning.” She confirmed that their lowest level of data is for people reading at or below the third-grade level. Such people, she told me, would have trouble reading the instructions on a prescription bottle, but would still be able to recognize their names or other written prompts. The only populations unable to read simple words would be either non-English speakers or, as she phrased it, the intellectually or developmentally disabled (IDD). “Born English speakers,” she said, would all be able to recognize their own names (although there were no separate data for cursive).I surveyed the cafeteria workforce at a similarly located university, contacted literacy organizations, and reviewed national studies to determine the prevalence, if any, of such profound reading deficits among employed adult Americans.Finally, I spoke to two representatives of Best Buddies, International, an organization that provides job placements for people, again as they phrased it, with intellectual and developmental disabilities. I asked whether their IDD clients in the food service industry would be able to recognize their own names. “Absolutely!” said one of the representatives, with more emphasis in her voice than can be conveyed with an exclamation point. “Every single one can read their own name.” I pursued the question of cursive reading with the second representative. “More than 90% can read cursive,” she said of her IDD clients, and the rest could be taught to recognize their names in cursive.
The IQ range of the Best Buddies population is roughly 77 and below (average is 100), yet virtually all could learn to recognize their names in cursive. The ethnography author, however, improbably claimed to have observed multiple individuals, in a single workplace, who fell short of the “below basic” standard, with poorer reading skills than the IDD clients of Best Buddies.
The ethnography’s editors, at a leading university press, evidently made no effort to confirm the inability of the workers to read their own names. The author presented this observation as a meaningful discovery, which is not unusual in urban ethnographies that prize unexpected findings, with an incentive to interpret ordinary events in novel ways.
Upon examination, however, such claims often fall apart under scrutiny. In this instance, the far more obvious explanations—relying on Occam’s Razor and common sense—are those provided by the subjects themselves. The older women could not reach the top row, and the younger men were indeed knocking off early and then killing time.
Steven Lubet is emeritus faculty at the Northwestern University Pritzker School of Law.
Why would you support a protest? Ranging from socially disruptive to catalysts for change, our perceptions of protests and social movements are often shaped by the extent to which our own political affiliations align with the goals of the movement. For example, during the wave of Black Lives Matter protests during the summer of 2020, Pew Research reported that public support was significantly higher among African Americans and Democrats than it was among White Americans and Republicans. However, new research published in the British Journal of Sociology suggests another factor at play in shaping our perceptions of mobilizations: spatial proximity, or how close we live to where protests are taking place.
In the study, which looks at public support of the 2014 Occupy Central Movement in Hong Kong, Duoduo Xu and Jaio Guo use two rounds of survey data to gauge the influence of spatial proximity on citizens’ support for the protests and on their political ideology. They find, first, that those who lived closest to the protest expressed higher levels of support for the movement, despite experiencing greater levels of disruption to their daily lives. Second, residents living closest to the protest also showed a liberalizing effect over time; as measured from slightly before the protests up to a year afterward, their self-reported political ideology shifted to the left. For social movements, this is good news: raising a ruckus, it seems, raises awareness and support in more ways than one. By making their movements more visible—and proximal—to the public, protesters may gain the voices and votes of their fellow citizens.For social movements, this is good news: raising a ruckus, it seems, raises awareness and support in more ways than one.
Do you remember the first book you read that changed your life?
I do.
It was Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man. I was in an African-American Literature class in college, and the professor assigned an excerpt from the book during the semester. And while I no longer remember much of the excerpt, I still remember how Ellison’s words made me feel. One line still echoes in my memory: “I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.”
While Ellison, as a Black man, was writing from a lived experience that was not my own, his understanding of invisibility resonated with me as I struggled to make sense of what it meant to be both seen and unseen as a queer, mixed-race, White-presenting woman who grew up poor. Ellison’s book, along with many others, made a critical imprint on what I thought and understood about the world with regards to power and domination. It changed how I saw the structures of race, gender, class, and sexual orientation—and what I thought and understood about myself.As both a sociologist and lifelong book lover, I’ve started to think a lot about the recent surge in book bans in schools across the United States and how they maintain White nationalist, capitalist, and heteronormative patriarchal ideological control over students by alienating them from a multitude of stories, narratives, histories, and ideas that might shift, challenge, and/or disrupt oppressive beliefs and attitudes. Banned books can inform students’ beliefs on how gender and sexuality work (or doesn’t); whether (and how) White supremacy and anti-Black racism impacts people’s lives, identities, and material realities; or even help students establish baseline knowledge about lives different from their own. Black, Brown, and/or queer authors write themselves and others like them into existence through their books—and students not only see themselves in these books, they begin to understand and believe that another (and less oppressive) world is possible.Black, Brown, and/or queer authors write themselves and others like them into existence through their books—and students not only see themselves in these books, they begin to understand and believe that another (and less oppressive) world is possible.
Gender Queer: A Memoir was the most-banned book in the U.S. in the 2021-2022 school year.To better understand the ideological impact of book bans, it’s critical to know where they’re happening, how often they’re occurring, and which books are being targeted. Non-profit organizations like Pen America have been instrumental in recording this kind of information and making it accessible to the broader public. From 2021-2022, Pen America maintained an “Index of School Book Bans” database to track banned books across the United States; it recorded “2,532 instances of individual books being banned affecting 1,648 unique book titles by 1,261 different authors.” The database recorded the titles and authors of the books, the number of times a specific book was banned or challenged, which state and school district the books were being banned in, and details about whether the ban came from an administrator or represented a formal state challenge. Users of the database can even see whether a particular book was banned in a classroom or in a school library.
Book bans, it turns out, aren’t popping up in every state with the same intensity. Many of the book bans are concentrated in more politically conservative states in the South and the Midwest. States with the most bans include Texas, Florida, Tennessee, and Pennsylvania. Texas and Florida have the most book bans—between 751-1,000 and 501-750, respectively. Comparatively, more left-leaning states like New York and Washington have between 1-10 bans. Quite a few states—including California, Arizona, and Nevada—have no bans at all.
The books targeted by bans often express ideas that challenge or disrupt dominant and often oppressive framings of the world. Some banned books express transgressive ideas about binary gender identity and compulsory heteronormativity. In fact, Pen America reports that 41% of the bans target books with LGBTQIA+ content and 22% grapple with sexual content. During the 2021-2022 school year, the number one banned book was Maia Kobabe’s Gender Queer: A Memoir. Banned in school libraries and classrooms on 41 occasions, Kobabe’s coming-of-age graphic memoir explores gender and sexuality through the lens of a young non-binary and asexual person. What happens to the student who reads Kobabe and has their understanding of gender and sexuality stretched beyond the binary? (And why, we must wonder, is that outcome so threatening?)The books targeted by bans often express ideas that challenge or disrupt dominant and often oppressive framings of the world. Other targeted books wrestle with the intersections of queerantagonism and anti-Blackness in the United States. Pen America reports that 40% of targeted books feature primary characters of color and 20% of targeted books deal with race and racism. For example, George M. Johnson’s All Boys Aren’t Blue shares the experiences of a young, queer, Black boy navigating life, family, love, pain, and, later, an HIV diagnosis. Johnson’s book has been challenged with bans or proposed bans in schools 29 times in states like Tennessee, Missori, Kansas, Washington, Utah, Texas, Pennsylvania, and New York on the grounds of “descriptions of sex between the author and other people in two chapters.” Reading Johnson’s work, students can begin to humanize queer Black folks, normalize Black and queer love, and detach pathology from queer and Black bodies.
While book bans can erase Black and Brown and queer stories, narratives, and authors from schools, what’s at stake here goes beyond bookish diversity, inclusion, and representation in classrooms and libraries. It’s about the erasure of possible futures and radically new, and freer, ways of thinking about the social world and the oppressive systems that define it. It’s about the erasure of histories, stories, and lived experiences that exist both within and yet in bold defiance of white heteronormative ideological dominance. These books can offer students radical new or alternative ways of thinking about the world they’re born into, co-create, and ultimately (re)produce.What’s at stake here goes beyond bookish diversity, inclusion, and representation in classrooms and libraries.But there’s still hope in resistance. Students can borrow “banned books” from their local libraries, for instance, though libraries are sometimes geographically inaccessible or have limited access to newer books. (What’s more, some fear that with the rise of book bans, libraries could vanish altogether.) Other folks are fighting back by weaponizing the book bans themselves. For example, a parent in Utah in the Davis School District is calling for a ban of the Bible on the grounds that, under the state’s book banning law, it is pornographic. And more recently, there’s been a larger political pushback to the bans; Florida Democrats have called for a ban of Governor Ron DeSantis’s book in Florida schools since it includes the topics of violence and gender identity.
Alyssa Lyons is the Sociology Department at Lehman College CUNY. She studies critical education.
Jennifer Randles, co-author along with Jennifer Sherman of the Winter 2023 feature article “Diaper Despair and Deflecting Inequalities,” tells us why she loves Contexts and what she hopes readers will get out of her piece. As she explains, “The case of diaper need is a really good example of how there is a tendency to individualize social problems—and the ramifications of that.” Read the full article and be sure to check out Randles’ previous piece on the topic, “The Diaper Dilemma.”
As sociologists who study race as it relates to immigrant detention, we see White ignorance as different from ignorance in the more general sense. In line with the dictionary definition of ignorance, someone is “ignorant” because they lack knowledge or are naïve about a particular subject (not because they intentionally engage in harmful practices). In contrast, White ignorance is much less passive. According to political philosophy scholar Charles Mills, White ignorance refers to the active and willful “unknowing” Whites possess about race relations and racial inequality. Mills and others we rely on in our work describe society as deeply “racialized,” meaning that people are treated as more or less valuable depending on their race. This deep racialization results in equally deep racial inequities, yet White Americans actively ignore them within their everyday lives. For example, at many universities, we learn about White contributors through the buildings that are named after them (at North Carolina State, D.H. Hill, Banks C. Talley, and James B. Hunt come to mind), but we don’t learn the names of the people actually responsible for maintaining university campuses, many of whom are non-White. With national holidays, street and park names, monuments, and even standard school curricula following a similar pattern, Americans devalue non-White lives by constantly acknowledging Whites’ presence and placement in society while “unknowing” the essential role of racial minority groups in the United States.
The consequences of this active racial unknowing are profound. As sociologist Jennifer Mueller explains, White ignorance “surround[s] White privilege, culpability, and structural White supremacy.” In other words, White ignorance supports the current racial status quo. Notable news stories from the past several months show how diverse this support can be, from doubt that police violence against Black Americans committed by Black officers perpetuates racist law enforcement to support for racial segregation as a peacekeeping strategy. And while White ignorance includes obvious racial bigotry reflected in individuals’ statements and actions, it also operates more subtly within institutional practices. During our review of 631 Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) news releases from 2020, we found a striking example of this institutional White ignorance: ICE’s silence on immigration detention and emphasis on fraud in its response to the COVID-19 pandemic.White ignorance operates within institutional practices.“What about Immigration Detention?” ICE’s COVID-19 Response“‘It was like a time bomb,’” Yudanys, a detained Cuban immigrant, told the New York Times. But Yudanys wasn’t alone. Kanate, a detained refugee from Kyrgyzstan, explained, “‘I was panicking. I thought that I will die here in this prison.'” The data we found supports their desperation. According to a report from Freedom for Immigrants, about 60% of all COVID tests performed in ICE detention centers by April 29, 2020 were positive. Media outlets and advocacy groups began calling attention to this situation early on. The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) urged ICE to “reduce the number of people in detention, starting with the most vulnerable, to keep them safe from COVID-19 before it is too late.” With concerns like these filling majorities of the March and April articles on immigration detention from the New York Times (about 94%) and the ACLU (about 75%), pandemic-era media coverage pushed ICE to address detention-related health risks.According to a report from Freedom for Immigrants, about 60% of all COVID tests performed in ICE detention centers by April 29, 2020 were positive. Only about 8% of ICE’s press releases in 2020 even mentioned COVID-19.In functioning democracies, governmental agencies should be accountable to the public. However, this type of accountability is not what we found in ICE’s pandemic response. Rather, the most striking pattern is what we did not find within ICE’s news releases—what sociologists call a patterned absence. Only 49 of the 631 news releases, or about 8%, even mentioned COVID-19. This means that, in a year where the pandemic was at the center of global attention, ICE spent only a small portion of its press even acknowledging that pandemic. Thus, ICE’s primary strategy during the initial year of the pandemic was avoidance.
So, what did we observe ICE discussing among the scant 8% of news releases about COVID-19? The agency mainly introduced and promoted a new type of enforcement campaign: Operation Stolen Promise. In an April 2020 news release, ICE explained the operation as a “collaboration with multiple federal departments and agencies, along with business and industry representatives” intended to “combat COVID-19 related fraud and other criminal activity.” Prior to the pandemic, ICE’s discussions of counterfeit merchandise accounted for about 3% of its news releases that year. However, references to Operation Stolen Promise specifically or counterfeit COVID-19 merchandise more generally appeared in approximately 49% of ICE’s news releases on COVID-19 that year. By highlighting this operation, ICE abandoned the role of an immigration enforcer to portray itself instead as a heroic protector against COVID-19 fraud. In doing so, the agency avoided providing a justification for its detention of migrants during the pandemic.
A protest sign held outside the Contra Costa West County Detention Facility in Richmond, CA, where migrant detainees are processed and held in I.C.E. custody. Photo by Daniel Arauz, Flickr CC. https://flic.kr/p/28BQS3GWhat about White Ignorance? Analyzing ICE’s ResponseWe view ICE’s framing of immigration detention, or lack thereof, during the pandemic as a powerful example of institutional White ignorance, given that most migrants detained by the United States are people of Latin American descent. The agency’s reluctance to take responsibility for COVID-19 transmission within its detained populations contributed significantly to the vulnerability of migrants in its custody. And, by not addressing how COVID-19 impacted detained migrants despite the media attention on the subject, ICE actively engaged in ignorance that showed an extreme lack of compassion toward an oppressed group. To be clear, ICE’s pandemic response was not just a public relations spin in response to bad press about immigration detention, as we have seen the agency use when facing past scandals. Instead, we witnessed ICE nearly abandon updates on immigration detention altogether as one of its responsibilities during the pandemic.
The agency’s practices negatively affected detained migrants. Of course, the agency did not openly endorse policies benefitting White Americans and harming people of color; instead, it implied support for racially inequitable policies through subtle yet strategic omissions in its descriptions of pandemic-era immigration detention and uncharacteristic diversions like Operation Stolen Promise. Just as Americans regularly “unknow” the contributions of non-White communities through building and street names, we observed ICE “unknow” the ways it harmed the people it detained, the majority of whom are non-White, by emphasizing the need to stop “COVID-19 fraud” rather than to minimize COVID-19 transmission risks.
Since government institutions like ICE keep racial inequality alive through White ignorance, it is essential to consider what can be done to lessen this active “unknowing.” From our broader analyses of immigrant detention, we understand practices like ICE’s COVID-19 response to be part of the U.S. government’s greater dependency on White ignorance. Changing radical dependency ultimately requires a radical intervention: a wholesale alteration of the government. But a change this large must start on a smaller scale. For instance, everyday White Americans can intentionally attune themselves to the life experiences of people of color rather than accepting the images government and other institutions present of non-White racial groups without question.Since government institutions like ICE keep racial inequality alive through White ignorance, it is essential to consider what can be done to lessen this active “unknowing.” A functioning democracy relies on government officials being accountable to the people they represent. While we, the people, cannot end White ignorance ourselves, we can start the process. Assuming we still live in a functional democracy, government change will follow.
Joshua R. Hummel is a Ph.D. candidate in the Sociology and Anthropology Department at North Carolina State University. His research explores the discursive construction of difference and racial identity. Emily P. Estrada is an Assistant Professor in the Sociology Department at State University of New York at Oswego. Her research investigates the implicit racialization of Latinx immigrants through cultural and institutional discourses.
Lauren Crosser is the author, along with Sarah Mayorga and Megan R. Underhill, of the feature article “Aisle Inequality” in the Winter 2023 issue of Contexts. Listen to this short interview to learn why Crosser and her coauthors chose Contexts as an outlet for their work and what readers will find when they delve in.
In her Winter 2023 article, “Heterosex on Campus: Laced with Double-Binds,” Chiara Elena Cooper’s interviews with race- and class-privileged college students reveal a web of double-binds and compromises–and a whole lot of unwanted sex. Here, we chat with Dr. Cooper about why she chose to publish in Contexts and what she sees as the biggest takeaways from her new piece. Read, download, and share the article here.
Above, co-author DeAnna Y. Smith, who penned the Winter 2023 feature “Child Removal Fears and Black Mothers’ Medical Decision-Making” with Alexus Roane, speaks with Contexts graduate editorial assistant Parker Muzzerall about the lasting impact of state contacts as well as their choice to publish in our public-facing journal. Below, we share some teaching exercises for those who wish to bring Smith’s work into the classroom. And in between? The article itself! Now free to read, download, and share through April 3, 2023 (and again after March 3, 2024).
Teaching Exercises:
- In the article, we read that Marcia, having been reported to CPS and suspecting that her son’s pediatrician made the call, “avoids providing intimate details about her life and the lives of her children” as she meets with medical practitioners. What does she risk if she’s candid, and what does she risk if she is not candid in this situation? Discuss the strategy of “concealment” (following sociologist Kelley Fong) and how it changes the interactions between clients and the institutions meant to serve them.
- Choose three medical conditions that may be linked to socioeconomic status (SES). Using the four metamechanisms of Fundamental Cause Theory, discuss how SES and these medical conditions may interact to produce unequal health outcomes for Black mothers and their children.
- Choose another theory from medical sociology and repeat exercise 2. How does this theory provide similar or dissimilar evidence?
- Medical mistrust, it seems, can flow both ways. Read about the movement to abolish CPS and about the role of “mandated reporters” in the function of such agencies. Why do some doctors feel compelled to report mothers to CPS, and how might that compulsion change if the movement to abolish CPS were to succeed?
Sociology tends more toward documenting social problems than human joy. But despite the many negative experiences of marginalized groups, like transgender people (who, we know, disproportionately suffer discrimination, violence, and social exclusion), every life has its beautiful moments. In Social Problems, sociologists stef m. shuster and Laurel Westbrook write of their discipline’s “joy deficit” and highlight it by focusing on the accounts of 40 trans people asked what they found joyful about being trans. It turns out, marginalization and joy really aren’t mutually exclusive!
The trans joy comments the authors study elicited themes like authenticity, pride, mental health benefits, and community. Interviewees, they write, “easily answered the question about joy.” After transitioning, for instance, 80% of shuster and Westbrook’s respondents reported enjoying the feeling of not needing “to pretend anymore.” Many also expressed immense pride in belonging to a minority group and considered their trans identity a “gift.” Embracing their identity, respondents said, enhanced their self-confidence, encouraged body positivity, and cultivated a sense of calm—all of which improved the quality of their lives. And where a majority of trans people shared that their journey began with feelings of isolation, they also shared that the process had compelled them to build meaningful, joyful relationships across their marginalized-and-vibrant communities.
By even asking about trans joy—itself a first-time question for many trans people in the study—shuster and Westbrook help undercut the dominant narrative that being transgender is always painful and negative. Addressing the joy deficit in all areas of sociological inquiry, it appears, will help scholars better capture the breadth of contemporary social life.
The COVID-19 pandemic gave us all a taste of social isolation, which mental health experts have long warned is detrimental to our well-being. Barring a lockdown, though, the risk of becoming socially isolated is more individual, as are its consequences. To help focus the picture, University of Texas researchers Debra Umberson, Zhiyong Lin, and Hyungmin Cha set out to see whether social isolation’s incidence or disadvantages varied throughout the life course or by gender.
Their study, published in the Journal of Health and Social Behavior, draws on a pair of datasets to learn about change in and experiences of social isolation. Respondents were sorted by gender and age (those aged 12-42 and 50+). The process revealed three key trends. First, regardless of gender, it appears Americans become lonelier as they age. Second, this process begins surprisingly early—during the teenage years and young adulthood, as major life changes begin to thin out social relationships. And third, the worst reported consequences of social isolation came before age 50 in men’s accounts, but after age 55 in women’s (a disparity most pronounced among the widowed, divorced, separated, and never married).
Together, the findings suggest those concerned with reducing social isolation will need to develop policies that attend to differences in at-risk populations and the resources needed to keep them socially connected at every age.
Well-worn explanations of international migration flows focus on factors such as poverty and political instability. New evidence, however, shows migration is increasingly associated with climate change and food insecurity (or FI)—defined by the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization as the “situation when people lack secure access to sufficient amounts of safe and nutritious food for normal growth and development and an active and healthy life.”
In their recent International Migration Review article, economists Michael D. Smith and Dennis Wesselbaum first establish that significant link, then examine how the distribution of FI impacts regular, permanent international migration flows. They find that the origin country’s FI has a stronger impact on out-migration than does national income or changes in temperature—a fact that’s true on two levels. First, the more severe the FI, the larger the association with migration flows out of a country. Second, individuals suffering more severe FI have a stronger incentive to migrate, leading to uneven migration patterns within the origin country.
Documenting the impact of FI on migration suggests that policies directed at one phenomenon will likely affect the other. Food assistance interventions may influence migration behavior, and migration policies may help alleviate FI. Moreover, reducing inequality by targeting the population below the mean prevalence of FI would have strong impacts on migration flows. To achieve interlinked global targets, such as those set out in the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals, coordinating approaches to issues like migration and food security strategy may increase policy impacts.
Amid rising scrutiny of police violence, many U.S. departments have implemented “neighborhood policing” strategies meant to facilitate non-enforcement contact between police and the community. For example, in the mid-2010s, the New York Police Department (NYPD) began to hold police-community meetings, inviting residents to informally express concerns with the officers assigned to their neighborhoods. Drawing on ethnographic data, Tony Cheng’s new American Journal of Sociology article reveals that, despite transparency talk, police frequently filter community complaints such that they appear to be endorsements instead.
More pointedly, Cheng finds that police actively curate public complaints in order to justify more policing rather than policing reform. A “selective decision-making” process results in police’s “cumulative discretion” and unfolds in a few key ways. First, departments choose where community meetings are held and who to invite. Second, they decide which complaints should be officially submitted into the organizational record. By Cheng’s reckoning, a full 88% of complaints seeking “police reform” to address “over- and unequal policing” practices are never properly documented. Third, police control reporting from community meetings online and work to publicly present only complaints that demand or are “construed to demand” increases in police services.
Because police actively work to control public perception of their practices, this study suggests scholars must carefully scrutinize administrative data provided by police departments. More broadly, the author demonstrates that when the police control their own complaint processes, public accountability is elusive if not impossible.
In a recent American Sociological Review article, Stephanie Bonnes asks what perpetuates organizational cultures of violence and misogyny. Drawing on in-depth interviews with 50 U.S. servicewomen, the author finds that chronic harassment and sexual assault in the hypermasculine space of the U.S. military, in addition to many other harms, degrade service-women’s identities as military insiders and severely limit their options for doing gender and career success.
For instance, the services’ hypermasculine climates push servicewomen to hide what Bonnes terms femininity anchors, as they seem to invite negative interactions. Pregnancy, she shows, seems to invite non-sexual and bureaucratic harassment, while having open heterosexual relationships with fellow service members can provoke harassment and assault. Further, femininity anchors appear to “sink” women’s military careers by undermining their belongingness in relation to the masculine norm.
Hypermasculine cultures are known to circumscribe women’s gains and successes. The military is, admittedly, an extreme example, yet femininity anchors exist in all male-dominated organizations and industries. Women’s management of them—including their attempts to untether from femininity anchors to keep safe or advance—unfortunately also contributes to the continued broad gender segregation of sectors such as construction, policing, and technology.
Imagine yourself, driving home from a long workday late some Thursday evening. In those moments, the neon glow of fast-food burger joints can seem to have a primal pull. But your choice among the various options isn’t only about hunger, convenience, or desperation, attests a recent Cultural Sociology article, it’s also about morality.
In “Moral Entrepreneurialism for the Hamburger: Strategies for Marketing a Contested Fast Food,” University of Toronto scholars Natália Otto, Josée Johnston, and Shyon Baumann use critical discourse analysis to analyze the websites and marketing campaigns of three major hamburger chains. In doing so, the authors identify three primary moral frames used by these chains as they push back against negative (often moral) perceptions of meat: global sustainability (McDonald’s), natural simplicity (A&W), and nostalgia and freshness (Wendy’s). Each of these frames bounds morally coded language and images aimed to associate products with particular values and evoke emotional reactions in consumers. Moral frames that mesh with target markets’ values build brand trust, loyalty, and desirability.
This form of “moral entrepreneurship” is a direct response to the increasing public scrutiny of fast food and the fast-food industry’s effects on personal and environmental health. By using moral frames to undermine negative impressions, the brands hope to make their burgers that much more palatable.
When was the last time anger or fear got the best of you? A jump scare, a close call, a confrontation? For most of us, most of the time, fight-or-flight events are memorable because they are rare. But in studying Christian Nationalist youth in the United States, Pew research associate Michael Rotolo found a more long-term and hard-wired sense of being under constant attack. This enduring threat perception, Rotolo writes in a recent issue of Sociological Forum, has both deep emotional underpinnings and severe political consequences.
Using a combination of interviews, ethnography, and surveys, Rotolo demonstrates that young Christian Nationalists’ biographies are often marked by the sorts of traumatic childhood experiences that lead to heightened, chronic states of rage or fear. As they enter early adulthood, these emotional states harden into a dominant belief that their cultural identity is perpetually precarious, which in turn shapes how they view contemporary social and political issues. The author argues that those with a disposition toward rage develop a “fight-for-America” emotional system that supports tribalism, nativism, and racialized sentiments, while those with a disposition toward fear develop a “flight-for-America” emotional system characterized by anxiety, passivity, and indifference.
Through his “fight-or-flight for America” framework, the author shows how the development of particular emotional dispositions throughout childhood, or “affective conditioning,” plays a fundamental role in shaping cultural and political attitudes in adulthood, especially among distinct cultural groups such as Christian Nationalists. This can have severe political consequences when the affective condition of a particular group is empirically associated with racist, sexist, and xenophobic attitudes and actions. To shift these enduring emotion systems, Rotolo suggests exposing people to unfamiliar -emotional stimuli, but also encourages us to look further upstream to the cultural contexts in which they were developed.
Once upon a New York Times, American columnist and Pulitzer Prize winner Nicholas Kristof urged, “Professors, We Need You!” Kristof incited an impassioned conversation around the world about the relationship between academe and the public. “Some of the smartest thinkers on problems at home and around the world are university professors,” Kristof observes, “but most of them just don’t matter in today’s greatest debates. The most stinging dismissal of a point is to say: ‘That’s academic.’”
Enter Contexts. We are the public face of sociology.
Since its inception in 2002, Contexts has steadfastly worked to make the best sociological research accessible for broad audiences as we all work together on the most pressing issues and debates of our time. At its heart, this is the mission of the magazine. A flagship publication of the American Sociological Association, Contexts provides a unique forum for intellectual fellowship, shifting “that’s academic” to “that’s pretty cool—and actionable.”
As the newest in a line of venerable editorial teams, we are delighted to take the helm of this page-turner. As we do, we express our gratitude to outgoing editors Rashawn Ray and Fabio Rojas for their hard work and dedication, and we welcome Contexts, for the first time, to an editorial home beyond the United States. Greetings from the University of British Columbia in spectacularly beautiful Vancouver!
We understand that where we are and who we are matter to the magazine. Amin is a queer-identifying scholar of color who studies expressions of urban sexualities that range from neighborhoods to nightlife, and Seth is a broadly trained theorist with interests in youth suicide, mental health, and emotions. For us as the new editors and you as our loyal readers, the transition of Contexts to Canada presents exciting opportunities.
A core priority of ours is to seize on the magazine’s increasingly international focus, expanding sociology’s global imagination even further. Hence, our inaugural issue includes gripping pieces on the rise and erasure of temporary migrant camps at Mexico’s northern border; on the spillover effects of punitive immigration policies on those who work to help asylum-seekers; the urgent need to globalize place-based initiatives that cultivate communities; intermarriage patterns among Nigerian immigrants; and attempts to stifle India’s #MeToo movement.
One common thread across the enthralling work in this issue is the unfulfilled promise of choice, or perhaps what it means to extol freedom while maintaining unequal options across a range of contexts. In this vein, you’ll read about the “optional illusions” faced by cisgender Black women under the spectre of CPS, by residents navigating consumer choice in mixed-income neighborhoods, and by parents struggling to balance budgets and keep their kids diapered. You’ll find a story about the binds that result in unwanted heterosex, and another about how researchers’ choices affect what we can know about phenomena like mass shootings.
Throughout, it’s clear that we’ve begun to make a number of small, though sparkly, innovations. For starters, we’ve reimagined how we review books. We ditched the conventional approach and instead placed two buzzy books—in this issue, a headline-grabbing pair on American racism—into conversation. This longer-form style allows a certain freedom to explore broad themes and demonstrates that even book reviews can inform our most significant, vexing concerns.
We’ve also reoriented our Q&A to focus on conversations with journalists, those key collaborators for any aspiring public sociologist. Fittingly, for this inaugural issue, we return to Kristof’s clarion call, first issued in 2014. It really hit home when he called on academics to get in the game—but have we come through?
Finally, we are keeping pace with the proliferation of new communication channels. Contexts may live as a print and online magazine, but we hope you’ll also connect with us on social media platforms, including Facebook, Twitter, Mastodon, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok. There, we’re exploring the sociological context(s) behind the headlines, sharing teaching exercises and blog posts, and posting (despite being a bit camera shy at first!) videos galore.
Talk to us. Let us know what you think and feel. We want to hear from you. We—and all our readers—want to learn from you. Let’s show the world why sociology matters.
For now, it’s back to work. It takes a chorus of voices to uphold the 4 Rs, after all.
Contexts: Rigorous. Relevant. Readable. Rad.
–Amin Ghaziani and Seth Abrutyn
from the editorsin brief:* “Fight or Flight for America,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “The Moral Appeal of McDonald’s,” by Parker Muzzerall. * “Anchored in Hypermasculine Orgs,” by Rose Xueqing Zhang. * “Policing Community Complaints,” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Food Insecurity Triggering Migration,” by Sophie X. Liu. * “Who’s Lonely?” by Rose Xueqing Zhang. * “TransJoy,” by Sophie X. Liu.
q&a:* “Professors, We (Still) Need You!” Amin Ghaziani interviews Pulitzer Prize winner Nicholas Kristof about the state of social science in news and policy.
features:* “Diaper Despair and Deflecting Inequalities,” by Jennifer Randles and Jennifer Sherman. How class blindness undermines collective solutions to collective problems–and creates a situation that just plain stinks. * “Child Removal Fears and Black Mothers’ Medical Decision-Making,” by Deanna Y. Smith and Alexus Roane. Fear of state punishment joins medical mistrust and experiences of discrimination as Black women consider whether and where to seek medical care for themselves and their children. * “Aisle Inequality,” by Sarah Mayorga, Megan R. Underhill, and Lauren Crosser. When a simple trip to the grocery store is anything but, the reality of unequal choices forces us to rethink the American notion that consumption is freedom. * “From Matamoros to Reynosa: Migrant Camps on the U.S.-Mexico Border,” by Bertha Alicia Bermudez Tapia. Inside the migrant camps emerging and being erased at the U.S.-Mexico border, we glimpse liminal lives crafted by punitive immigration policy yet sustained by hope. * “Caught in the Dragnet: How Punitive Immigration Laws Harm Immigrant Community Helpers,” by Stephanie L. Canizales. Legal violence, or the effects of an intertwining of immigration and criminal law, harms asylum seekers and immigrants, as well as the U.S. attorneys, social workers, health professionals, and advocates who help them. * “Heterosex on Campus: Laced with Double-Binds,” by Chiara Elena Cooper. Interviews with race- and class-privileged college students reveal a web of double-binds and compromises–and a whole lot of unwanted sex.
in pictures:* “Globalizing the City Creative,” by David Schalliol and Michael Carriere. DIY activists creating change in communities around the world.
culture:* “Nigerian Intermarriage: Making Black Diversity Visible,” by Karen Amaka Okigbo. * “So Shut Up and Listen to Us!” by Neeraja Kolloju.
trends:* “Working from Home: Before and After the Pandemic,” by Hilary Silver. * “How We Define Mass Shootings Shapes What We Can Learn about Them,” by Melanie Brazzell, Tara Leigh Tober, and Tristan Bridges.
books:* “American Racism,” by Iddo Tavory.
policy briefs:* “Improving Communication Access for Children with Incarcerated Parents,” by Sarah Jensen, Kaitlyn Pritzl, Pajarita Charles, Margaret Kerr, and Julie Poehlmann. * “The Case for Drug War Reparations,” by Jessica Flanigan and Christopher Freiman.
one thing i know:* “A Promise of Care,” by Steven W. Thrasher.
Contexts articles are perfect for the classroom: rigorous, relevant, readable, and rad! In this video, Dr. Seth Abrutyn, Contexts co-editor, talks about using his own piece, “Durkheim’s Suicide in the Zombie Apocalypse,” co-written with Dr. Anna Mueller, to help undergrads engage Suicide. The article is free to read and download from our publisher SAGE, making it easy for students to access and use it, and below, Dr. Abrutyn shares his small-group discussion prompts.
Please break up into groups of 3-4 students to discuss the Durkheim’s Suicide and the article on the zombie apocalypse. One student can be responsible for taking down the group’s answers to the following questions, and another for sharing with the full class when we reconvene.
- Why does a zombie apocalypse serve as a good analogy to Durkheim’s thoughts on modern societies?
- From your understanding, what were the major differences between Rick Grimes and Dr. Jenner’s characters that led to different outcomes?
- Can you think of other real or fictional crises that might have similar social outcomes to a zombie apocalypse?
What is Dr. Beth Hirsch’s favorite section of Contexts? The policy briefs, she says, are great because they put policymakers and scholars into conversation while helping the broader public think about how sociological insights and evidence can be used in actual problem-solving. Pitch your own article ideas to Contexts by visiting contexts.org/submission-guidelines.
Contexts: Rigorous. Relevant. Readable. Rad.
About Contexts and its trends section, Dr. Laura Nelson (University of British Columbia) enthuses, “This is what we [sociologists] do: We take data and we turn it into social insights!” Interested in writing for Contexts? Check out our author guidelines at contexts.org/submission-guidelines. Plus you can read, download, and share our back issues at ctx.sagepub.com!
Contexts: Rigorous. Relevant. Readable. Rad.
As UBC welcomes Contexts(or, should we say, CANtexts?), we’re speaking with sociology faculty to learn what they love about the magazine and its public-facing mission. First up, Dr. Ethan Raker with Contextsgraduate editor Rose Zhang.
Can I tell my employer about my gender identity? Many transpeople worry about the range of possible answers to this question.
At first, the question might appear trivial: why should your gender identity even matter to an employer? It does, though. Research shows that transpeople—individuals whose gender identity does not match the sex they were assigned at birth—are treated unequally in the labor market. They are less likely to be employed, they earn less, and they are more likely to live in poverty compared to those who are not transgender.
In a recent survey, almost half of trans respondents reported being fired or not hired based on their gender identity. Even highly educated transpeople, such as scientists, experience harassment, bullying, and exclusionary behavior in the workplace. In fact, they often are treated as if they were less skilled than their colleagues. Given that over 1.3 million adults in the United States identify as transgender, this type of discrimination affects a sizable share of the population.
This affects transpeople, clearly, but also society as a whole. Recent estimates suggest that the cost of labor market stigmatization, for gender and sexual minorities alike, leads to a loss in real GDP per capita of about $400 USD.
The way transpeople are treated at work often depends on their destination gender. Research shows that, pre-transition, transmen (female-to-male) earn much less than cismen. Their earnings slightly increase after transitioning, although they remain below cismen’s. Transwomen (male-to-female), on the other hand, have similar earnings compared to cismen pre-transition, but they experience a large earnings penalty after transitioning. Drawing on a theory of “doing gender,” qualitative work by Kristen Schilt shows that transmen tend to benefit from a “patriarchal dividend” by receiving more authority, competency, respect, and recognition in the workplace relative to what they received as women. By contrast, transwomen tend to incur a double penalty: by being a woman and transgender.Gender diversity is not the same as gender inclusion. The labor market stigmatization of transpeople affects the flourishing of individuals and the economy as a whole.Businesses are currently focused on making the workspace gender diverse but frequently overlook gender inclusivity. Although more businesses are employing transgender people, overt aggression and violent behaviors are being replaced by micro-aggressions that are more difficult to manage. People often assume that a person’s gender identity matches their sex assigned at birth, which can lead to feelings of exclusion and psychological stress, especially in workplaces that tolerate “joking” about transpeople.
In “Doing, Undoing, or Redoing Gender,” Catherine Connell shows that transpeople face a difficult decision to either deciding to mask or to disclose their gender identities. This forces them into a position of actively doing transgender. Yet, even if transpeople attempt to make their gender identities apparent in their interactions with others, those disclosures are often reinterpreted in ways that reinforce the gender binary at work, thereby reproducing inequalities.
What can we do about this situation in workplaces?
First, tackling gender discrimination should be included in company policy. Transpeople who experience discrimination at work should be able to report this to their manager or a confidential advisor without feeling dismissed or demeaned.
Second, it is important to have visible and approachable role models and safe spaces in which everyone is welcome to talk to and learn from each other. Research shows that contact interventions, in which different people from different subgroups meet and get to know each other, remove prejudices better than inclusivity trainings, for example.
Third, workers should use gender-inclusive language and avoid making assumptions about a person’s gender. This can include using gender-neutral terms like “partner” instead of “husband” or “wife” and using a person’s name and pronouns without question.
Finally, workers should avoid gender apprenticing. Some workers feel compelled to socialize transpeople into their destination gender so they can do gender in the workplace in the so-called “right” way. Although such people may be well-intended, this practice is counterproductive; transgender identity is distinct and unique.
Because “diversity” is not the same as “inclusivity,” a gender diverse workspace is successful only if it is accompanied by an inclusive workspace that accepts all workers as included and valued and that rewards workers based on their individual merits.
Deni Mazrekaj is in the sociology department at Utrecht University and is an affiliated researcher at KU Leuven and the University of Oxford. He studies the sociology of the family and sociology of education, particularly the role of school and family environments on children’s outcomes.
As part of the Iranian diaspora, a professor of psychology, and a therapist, I have had a front-row seat to the trauma inflicted upon the people of Iran, historically, in the present under the Islamic Republic, and through the processes of out-migration. This is not a traditional, longitudinal account full of bounded categories ripe for comparison but a reflection on how a new generation’s vision for the future has awakened the resilience of an entire population. It is not Iranians’ demographic characteristics that create unique socio-psychological bonds within generations, but their shared experiences. In other words, the dispositions we see as Generation Z leads the protest marches—both those in Iran and the solidarity marches around the world—of what is now the Woman, Life, Freedom revolution are also expressions of a collective self.
When we speak of the generations that make up any society, it’s key to look deeper by studying the zeitgeist that existed during the most critical periods of their development, including traumatic global events of the sort that shift entire populations’ ways of life (as the 1979 Islamic Republic revolution did for Iranians). What makes different generations stay within a particular spectrum of cognitive dispositions, and consequently, demonstrate a particular prominent pattern of behavior? What are the lived experiences that contribute to those uniquely formed generational cognitive schemas and how do they create divides across generations so that they struggle to understand (and frequently dismiss) others’ perspectives, choices, and actions?The dispositions we see as Generation Z leads the protest marches of what is now the Woman, Life, Freedom revolution are also expressions of a collective self informed by the strategies of survival employed by generations before them.In my work, I often find myself paying attention to how individuals within generations deal with systematic trauma and complex grief experiences, how they pass on their stories of survival and resilience to subsequent generations, and how those future generations interpret the covert meanings embedded in those histories.
Gen Z Iranians have been breaking every norm as they paradoxically learned to live, within Iran, under the Islamic Republic, and beyond it, as activists moving toward the overthrow of that Islamic Republic’s regime. And from the looks of it, their innovative approach is exactly what it takes to shake up the stability of the fascist system that has exploited religion and destroyed nearly every part of the Iranian society for over 43 years. Perhaps this is because Gen Z is a product of a multigenerational experience, and a product of nearly half a century of religious and sociopolitical trauma and oppression. Gen Z is subconsciously incorporating the lived experiences of four previous Iranian generations living inside of Iran, as well as those in the three major waves of out-migration that formed the modern, global Iranian diaspora. Today, all these interlocked experiences and systems are showing up in one body, as the collective self we see challenging the status quo, which has been the normalization of and tolerance for systematic oppression and gender apartheid.
TIME Magazine chooses “The Women of Iran” as its 2022 Heroes of the Year.Generation Z carries, within them, the Iranian Silent Generation. They shared an inclination toward enduring and avoiding conflict, having been born between World Wars. Now, they are too hypervigilant to lean into the patterns of leisure and “second acts,” including the psychosocial development we expect for those in the later adulthood stage of the life cycle.
Generation Z carries, within them, Iran’s Baby Boomer Generation. With scant resources, the Boomers are proud of the sacrifices they made to rebuild lives from scratch after the 1979 Islamic Revolution. They found the ability to respond to unimaginable shifts in their socioeconomic positions and to a series of deep losses, all so that the generations that came after them would have a different experience of life.
Generation Z carries, within them, the Iranian Generation X, those adults who have spent a lifetime assimilating to a world so different from their early childhood years. Whether living under the Islamic Republic in Iran or forced to migrate, they were fundamentally changed by the Iran-Iraq war, responsible for the loss of over a million lives. Often called “the burned generation,” Gen X had no models for building lives to move forward in a new environment. They had to create their paths forward, even before the Internet, which would have made finding resources so much simpler. Raised, like the Boomers, to avoid many of the traumas inflicted on their parents’ generation but informed by the rise of their collective, transgenerational psychological discourse, they became prone to a sort of persistent, collective depression. Their ability to experience the depth of their emotions—consistent with chronic, oppressive circumstances—gifted Gen Xers the potential to feel deep empathy. It sets their generation apart from the rest.
And Generation Z carries, within them, Iran’s Millennial Generation, those who strove to live anew, acculturated to globalization. They have brought the culture and pride of Iran and Iranians through food and music and dance and hospitality back to life after decades of degradation under the Islamic Republic. This generation dusted off the decades long dark shadow of the Islamic Republic looming over Iranian culture and revived the excitement about engagement in the cultural task for all Iranians. They have been keenly aware of the need to pave a path for Generation Z.
Iran’s Generation Z, who live in and well beyond Iran, comprises all these past generations’ dispositions, all the embodied lessons of their traumas, triumphs, and modes of survival. This is not a burden, but an engine, moving them toward a collective goal, a free Iran for themselves and for generations to come. This collective self is part of a global generation that will make the world a much better place for all global citizens. It’s not that generations are tidily divided, fully unified, or always getting “better”—but that the messy boundaries are places of transmission. More knowledge, more self-understanding, bigger worldviews, longer timescapes, these have accrued in the young leaders we see today. They aim to free and rebuild Iran without the Islamic Republic; and I believe they will succeed, because their force is much bigger and more powerful than the eyes can see.Iran’s Generation Z, who live in and well beyond Iran, comprises all these past generations’ dispositions, all the embodied lessons of their traumas, triumphs, and modes of survival. This is not a burden, but an engine, moving them toward a collective goal, a free Iran for themselves and for generations to come.In many ways, Gen Z Iranians are a combination of the very best and the most important learning experiences of their previous generations. They are marked by their perseverance and their refusal to use old modes of protective denial in order to navigate the impact of the paradoxes of life in, as their parents and grandparents did before them. They will continue to form a collective self through their agentic, adversarial approach to effecting change. For all these reasons, “The Women of Iran” are the right choice for Time Magazine’s 2022 Heroes of The Year.
Bahareh Sahebi is in the Department of Psychology at Northwestern University where she serves as assistant program director for The Center for Applied Psychological and Family Studies’ Marriage and Family Therapy Program. She is the author, with William B. Russell and Douglas C. Breunlin, of Integrative Systemic Therapy in Practice: A Clinician’s Handbook.
Contact the author: Dr.Sahebi@Northwestern.edu
Finalizing my divorce, searching for a new place to live, re-evaluating the possibility of a family—I was stressed out in November of 2009. Then my face stopped working.
The diagnosis? Bell’s Palsy, or damage to the 7th cranial nerve (similar to what Justin Bieber is experiencing with Ramsay Hunt Syndrome). Though it’s technically “reversible,” 10-20% of people develop a movement disorder called synkinesis. Effectively, as the nerve heals, it regrows to too many places; more “frozen” than paralyzed, those of us in this unlucky group end up mis-wired. It affects our facial expressions and movement, and it can impact tear ducts, salivary glands, the sense of taste, and the ability to filter light and noise. For me, it also meant adjusting to an array of very different social reactions to my fact and enduring years of frustratingly inappropriate medical treatment. Like any good social scientist, and as I sought ongoing treatment and support, I was ready to do some research.
Where I’d hypothesized that my interviewees, more than 100 people with facial difference, would focus on their experiences with discrimination, instead the most salient theme was the disruptions they experienced in terms of communication of and with the self. Developing synkinesis, a common facial disability, made it hard to communicate and socialize in culturally expected ways. I began to use the term “social disability” to capture the impacts of my and other conditions on the reception, expression, and/or interpretation of self—and to understand it, all too well, as an embodied challenge.Developing synkinesis, a common facial disability, makes it hard to communicate and socialize in culturally expected ways. The term “social disability” captures the impact on the reception, expression, and/or interpretation of self with this embodied challenge.Axes of identity, race, class, gender, age, and a variety of identity categories impact how social disability is lived, and participants shared how their intersecting communities, supported, disavowed, ignored, or empathized as they navigated social life with facial difference. For many of us with acquired facial difference, the masks that became ubiquitous with the COVID-19 pandemic actually restored our experiences of social space. Here’s why.
“La Monstrua”With a social disability, people lose the autonomy of self-presentation. The word freak came up a lot as respondents spoke about their inability to self-present as “normal.” Microaggressions and negative encounters pushed their internalization of others’ discomfort. People stared, they told me, and made hurtful observations. They’d been told to sober up, admonished for looking nasty. They’d been avoided and excluded.
Perhaps most difficult, for these folks, was the loss of their former ease, of the control and predictability of self-presentation. Consider my experience: I’ve always used my smile to communicate warmth, welcome, and my general pleasure in the world. As a middle-aged, reasonably attractive cis-woman with White privilege, smiling at others, even strangers, has almost always elicited a warm response. But a month after my diagnosis, I was brought up short. On a long-planned trip to hike in the jungle, I encountered a family that reminded me of my own childhood outings. I smiled.
“La monstrua!” shouted the daughter, perhaps six years old. Her lack of intention made the moment more devastating.
Now, in place of taken-for-granted interaction tools, people like me have developed on-going, deliberate strategies to forestall others’ discomfort and protect ourselves from the repeated hurt of social disability. We wear makeup, we start with a friendly wave from afar, we seek out occupational therapy to try to craft new, heavily forced but possibly natural-looking smiles. Surgeries can be impactful, too. Mine improved my appearance, reduced pain, and allowed me to breathe through my nose, but only one procedure was covered by my union-won health insurance. Most people have inadequate options.
Mimicry and Emotional (Mis)CuesWith synkinesis, miscommunications come not only because one appears different, but because fundamental aspects of communication are disrupted. For instance, the associated subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) tightening throughout the face means unintentionally communicating to others that we’re experiencing discomfort, anxiety, and stress.
Mimicry is an essential part of communication. As we interact with other people, we unconsciously mimic facial expressions, sharing emotions as we communicate. This is how we connect with others. I noted, in interviewing others with the same challenge I had, that I was getting a sense of what it could be like to communicate with me. Even knowing exactly what I was getting in to, I would notice my doubt and discomfort rising. Anxiously, I wondered what was off—did they not like me? Why did I feel such a weird social discomfort?
My respondents and I were, I realized, mimicking each other’s synkinesis, amplifying potential miscommunications about anxiety, stress, fear, discomfort, and displeasure. These interviews were profound, as many of us had never come face-to-face with anyone else with synkinesis. Most people told me others in their lives could be uninterested in, discomforted by, or dismissive of their challenges. But here we were, experiencing it together. And it was hard! It was something we had to get past—and we did, thankfully.These interviews were profound, as many of us had never come face-to-face with anyone else with synkinesis. But here we were, experiencing it together.Trying to ignore engrained social cues and my own perpetual miswiring at the same time makes social situations exhausting, defeating, and unpleasant. I have to ignore the messages of my own face, the ones that signal social failure, stress, and anxiety—the ones that are, in fact, physically painful for me. And I have to know that, to truly be with me, others are always surmounting the barrier of my unintentionally signaled negative emotion.
Miscommunication, AlienationLike all people, those of us with synkinesis experience our share of profound joy and mundane happiness, and so the most-grieved facial expression in my interviews was unsurprising: the smile. We can still smile, we can still show you our delight, but we can’t live the experience of truly spontaneous joy. A smile is always physically uncomfortable—it takes effort, and its a reminder of ongoing, lived trauma.
The act of smiling is the experience of the best of human experience, it’s a shared, expressed experience of the best of life. Losing appropriate, automatic affect disrupts communication. It also disrupts the shared experience of communing and the individual’s ability to process experience—to communicate with ourselves.Losing appropriate, automatic affect disrupts communication—including with ourselves.What I lost is the experience of smiling. Smiling without discomfort, without mis-feel, and without problematic reactions from others, should I leave my smile unmanaged. I’ve lost that moment of smiling together without background noise in my head, without doubt, without self-management.
As a result of living with synkinesis, people lose connection with the social display of self, the experience of performing the self, shared experiences of the social self, and easy interaction. Facial disability is a barrier to the experience of fellowship. That it is a challenge to the experience of self that one always has to manage reinforces that it is a social disability.
Communities of SupportAdvocacy helps many people find community, support, and purpose. Online and in-person support groups, respondents shared, provided some with a chance to expand their options for medical coverage, share tips and strategies, and to relax the vigilant facial management most performed so often. The concept of a social disability provides a way to express a specific type of challenge and advocate for ways to mitigate the impact of synkinesis on people’s lives. It also points to the potential for support spaces, higher quality care, and social awareness to build social lives that are less burdensome—to be social with rather than in spite of facial disability.
Faye Linda Wachs is in the sociology department at Cal Poly Pomona. She is the author of the forthcoming book Metamorphasis: Who we become after facial paralysis.
On September 13, 2022, a 22-two-year-old Kurdish woman named Jina (Mahsa) Amini was arrested by “Morality Police” in Tehran, Iran, with the charge of defying the vaguely defined hijab codes. Three days later, an image of Jina in a coma on a hospital bed, with visible signs of head trauma, went viral. The police had […]
Journalists don’t contact me when new bars open, when they set new fundraising records, or when their events send queer joy spilling into the streets.
Thanksgiving is almost upon our U.S. readers, and whether it’s the long drives, visiting a childhood home, couch dozing after a winter walk, or getting plain old turkey-tuckered, we’re already dreaming of the glorious cat-naps that so often accompany the holiday. In our Winter 2011 issue, Simon J. Williams invited us to “sleep on this: […]
This article was first published in the Spring 2022 issue of Contexts Magazine. That version contained errors upon publication. This was the fault of the production team and not the author. A formal correction was issued in the Summer 2022 issue of Contexts, and the article below is the corrected version. It’s 2 AM. Crystal […]
Dilapidated homes, unoccupied with boarded windows. Overgrown patches of land, acres of empty parking lots with vines slowly reclaiming the space. Big box stores converted into megachurches. Fast food joints and dollar stores and gas stations offer up liquor, junk food, and, of course, predatory payday loan services. These are the all-too-familiar signs of civic […]
Working from home was on a long, downward slide until the 1980s, when sectoral shifts and information technologies triggered a reversal. For a couple of decades, the rise in homeworkers was slow and steady, picking up steam in the new Millennium. Then, as readers will see in my trends piece in the February 2023 issue […]
As voters in the U.S. weigh their ballot options, we’re looking back to Lane Kenworthy’s Summer 2009 Contexts article, “Tax Myths.” In four sections, Kenworthy takes on the following: Myth #1: Heavy taxation reduces economic competitiveness. Myth #2: Republicans favor tax cuts because they believe they’re good for the economy and key constituents. Myth #3: […]
Incoming Contexts editors Amin Ghaziani and Seth Abrutyn, both sociologists at the University of British Columbia, invite your feature story pitches—now accepted through mc.manuscriptcentral.com/contexts! For information on pitching or submitting to the other sections of our magazine, and for more information about our process, please see our Author Guide. Additional questions can be directed to […]
The late Sinikka Elliott was a treasured colleague, here at the University of British Columbia, the new editorial home of Contexts, and around the world. We are pleased to share her 2016 piece and a set of review questions for use in the classroom—one of the many places her brilliance burned bright. The following review […]
Letter from the Editors In Brief: “Having ‘The Talk,'” by Bergen Schmidt “The Whiteness of NPR,” by Bergen Schmidt “Limits of Police Reform,” by Alisha Kirchoff Q&A: “The Constitution of Knowledge, with Jonathan Rauch,” by Fabio Rojas and Alisha Kirchoff Features: “Five Big Ideas About AI,” by Steve G. Hoffman, Kelly Joyce, Sharla Alegria, Susan […]
Letter from the Editors In Brief: Who Is Latinx? by Jaylynn Rodriguez Diversifying Management, by Nico Bjork Another Person’s Peril, by Inge Pham-Swann Social Networks and Disasters, by Olivia Hudson The Science of Pornography Bans, by Mellie Ernst Dashed Expectations or Unfulfilled Aspirations, by C.C. Servon How Helpful is Helicopter Parenting? by Niko Bjork Protesting […]
Intellectual humility is a call for people to read broadly, to seek out knowledge from the periphery and center it in their research, writing, and teaching.
Systemic inequality is buoyed by the idea that the underclass—whether they are women or a disadvantaged racial/ethnic group or economic class—holds the greatest responsibility for correcting inequalities. The problem of the underclass receiving the bill for solidarity applies basically anywhere we find a recognizable, lesser privileged group.
The United States does not care for people’s lives and will forget about Uvalde and Highland Park soon. At the time of writing, it has been 191 days into the year of 2022. With just 191 days, the United States recorded 384 mass shootings; we can expect two mass shootings every day. What we are […]
A notable feature of academic life is its open-ended nature and the freedom to pursue what interests you in a variety of forms. Of course, what makes academe desirable can also make it frustrating. One of us had a provost at a liberal arts college who liked to say that, “You should spend 9/9’s of […]
I know that the recently leaked draft from the U.S. Supreme Court portends a decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health that will harm pregnant people and our society. From my expertise as a medical sociologist who studies abortion care, I know that allowing the restriction of abortion will result in more maternal deaths, more […]
In the past week, there have been several articles published commenting on Canada’s controversial plan to revise its current euthanasia law to allow people with psychiatric disabilities to be eligible for medical assistance in dying starting in March 2023. Titled Bill C-7, in 2021 this law expanded access to euthanasia to any person with an […]
Over the past year and a half, politicians and media commentators have amplified a growing movement opposing education focused on racism and racial discrimination in the U.S., often under the guise of fighting “critical race theory” (CRT). Like other critical moments of backlash to efforts at racial progress, the anti-CRT movement contains the hallmarks of […]
To say that the pandemic has been difficult on us all would be an understatement. It’s impacted work, family, and everything in between. And yet, the group that is statistically least likely to die from COVID-19—youth—are impacted by the pandemic in ways that may be immeasurable, particularly as it relates to mental health and other […]
In their recent Socius article, Knoester and Rockhill explore public opinion of recent, positive changes in sports that hope to further antiracism and multiculturalism. They use data from the National Sports and Society Survey (NSASS) to assess public opinion on changing team names and mascots that appropriate Native American identities and cultures, as well as the acceptance […]
Sexual violence is both a cause and a consequence of inequality. It is also about who holds power individually and institutionally. In their book, Sexual Citizens: A Landmark Study of Sex, Power, and Assault on Campus, Jennifer S. Hirsch and Shamus Khan seek to understand why campus sexual assault happens and what can be done to […]
On January 6, 2021, following former President Trump’s public ranting at the “Save America March,’’ a collection of Trump supporters, intertwined with altright gangs (e.g., Proud Boys), anti-government “militias” (e.g., Oath Keepers), accelerationists (e.g., Boogaloo Bois), and Internet trolls (e.g., Groypers) stormed the U.S. Capitol Building in an attempt to prevent the certification of the […]
Last year, whistleblower Dawn Wooten decried alleged conditions and medical malpractice at Georgia’s Irwin County ICE Detention Center. Days after her claims of mass hysterectomies and questionable COVID-19 procedures, 160 congressmen called for an investigation, according to Democracy Now and National Public Radio reports. However, initial news coverage suggests ICE has only confirmed two cases of medical malpractice. Follow-up […]
“There is wide socioeconomic variation among LGB people that has been overlooked by previous research even though socioeconomic status is deeply intertwined with sexual minority status and union status.” Sexual orientation became a major site of political conflict and social change in the 20th Century, continuing into the 21st century. Research, activism, and policy decisions […]
This photo series explores the origins of how misconceptions such as one-dimensional expression and emotional inaccessibility have come to be. I specifically explore the complexity of African American masculinity for young Black boys and Black men. For the last seven years, I’ve been an educator in inner-city Houston. Before I was an educator, I was […]
I had the opportunity to interview Marcus Bullock, CEO of Flikshop, an app that allows people to send postcards to their friends and family who are incarcerated. Marcus knows prison life all too well as he was incarcerated at 15-year-old. However, today, Marcus has become an exemplar of what it means to be a returning […]
This article originally appeared in a report by The Brookings Institution and the American Enterprise Institute. It was supported with the generous support from the Ewing Marion Kauffman Foundation. Contexts Magazine appreciates the ability to further highlight this work. In this article on School Police Officers (SPOs), we showcase the link between SPOs and exacerbated […]
Fabio Rojas and Rashawn Ray, Editors of Contexts Magazine. (Photo by Alisha Kirchoff) One of the most striking developments in modern American history is the rise of mass incarceration. While more and more people have been put behind bars worldwide, sadly, America leads the way. In this issue, we contribute to the ongoing discussion on […]
I teach many classes in environmental sociology and they are all steeped in the belief that we, as sociologists, must train students to work in the environmental field. As the need to address the climate crisis becomes more immediate, I see this almost as a moral imperative. Just as the discipline of engineering has trained […]
California Supreme Court Justice Mariano-Florentino Cuéllar has served in many roles, including as a professor of law at Stanford University and an official in the Clinton and Obama administrations. He sat down with Jeannine Bell at Indiana University–Bloomington to discuss his experiences as a judge, working in administrative law, and considering current legal issues in […]
The nation’s growing racial diversity received significant media attention following the release of the 2020 Census results, which show that a declining number of people in the United States identify themselves as white. Rather predictably, this led to a good deal of hand-wringing over a shrinking white population. In his most recent book, The Great […]
As the country steadily recovers from the pandemic and businesses reopen their doors, aggrieved restaurateurs have shifted their primary concern from temporary or permanent closures to understaffing burdens, labor costs, and hikes in the price of goods. Headline after headline in news media, albeit somewhat hyperbolically, direct attention to some of these struggles, such as, […]
When discussing US policies on sexual commerce, we live in a country where truth, science, and facts do not always matter. On May 4th, the Louisiana House Criminal Justice Committee held a hearing to debate a bill proposed by Representative Mandie Landry to repeal the state’s prostitution laws. They shelved the bill decriminalizing prostitution before […]
New Gallup numbers on LGBT Americans are causing quite the stir after the 2020 polling of over 15,000 U.S. adults in all fifty states showed an increase in LGBT identification overall—5.6 percent, up 1.1 percent from the 4.5 percent rate estimated in 2017— and a majority (54.6 percent) of LGBT individuals identifying as bisexual. In […]
The one thing we know is that teaching sociology is uncomfortable and controversial, but necessary now as ever. Our pedagogy should reflect the need to embrace all that and more. But sociology students are often underprepared to discuss fundamental topics in this field without intensive guidance. Additionally, the current uninformed discussions coming from the right […]
The anti-abortion movement is feeling hopeful in the wake of Texas’s abortion ban and the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold the ban. But what seems like a resounding victory for pro-life advocates will have an unintended consequence: derailing the educational plans of millions of Americans—women and men. Reproductive rights and educational attainment go hand in […]
Fictional princesses have new expressions beyond toys, motion pictures, and theme parks (e.g., Disney). In an emerging gig-based, non-commercial industry, young women presenting people perform as princesses in interactive, non-staged events booked for children’s entertainment. As of yet, there is no comprehensive count of active princesses; however, preliminary interview data indicate major metropolitan areas […]
“Was it in vain? What has changed?” These words are graffitied across an art piece by a celebrated local Akron artist named Don Drumm—a sculpture in which you can see several real bullet holes that had pierced through the metal 50-years-ago. The engraving written here is in reference to the Kent State Shootings in which […]
We live in a moment of remarkable inconsistency in the gender structure. We have ever-increasing numbers of young people who reject a gender category or are gender fluid, while the movement toward equality between women and men has stalled. Do today’s young women believe they are—or deserve—equality with the men around them? We provide unique […]
The great sociologist Erving Goffman taught us that the social world is a play and we are merely actors in it. When the play is about gender and sexuality, though, the script gets complicated. The old lines aren’t enough; we continue to push for new roles and new scenery. That is what the Summer 2021 […]
The Fall 2022 issue of Contexts: Sociology for the Public will be dedicated to the theme of “Visions and Transformations.” Since the inception of the discipline, sociologists have critiqued the social world in order to improve it. However, as a discipline, we often emphasize critique at the expense of discussing the institutions, policies, and social […]
At the beginning of 2021, musical artist Sia has caused waves of controversy. Earlier in February, her directorial debut Music was nominated for a Golden Globe. The film features an autistic character played by Maddie Ziegler, who is not autistic. Sia received criticism for her choices from autistic folks for many reasons, however, the […]
Fifty years ago fewer than one percent of marriages in the United States were interracial or interethnic while today the U.S. Census indicates that the number is ten percent (though another conversation could be had on how “interracial” is defined). The mixed-race demographic (those who report identifying with two or more races) is the fastest […]