Jeffery C. Isaac
Published in The
Chronicle of Higher Education, April 11, 2003
In recent years, an eclectic group of American scholars, policy
analysts, journalists, and activists from across the political
spectrum has turned toward "civil society" as the answer
to today's social problems. Refusing to cede political power to
market forces, most advocates of civil society argue that serious
social problems -- economic dislocation, social instability, environmental
degradation, political alienation -- continue to plague American
society, and that meaningful forms of collective response to such
problems are both necessary and possible. Such responses, they
maintain, are best encouraged in the voluntary, private domain
between government and economic institutions and outside the arenas
of conventional politics and public-policy formation. Some civil-society
advocates, with roots in conservative and neoconservative critiques
of the welfare state and its "therapeutic" culture, focus
on promoting such supposedly "moral" institutions as
the nuclear family, religious congregations, and "faith-based
initiatives." Others, closer to the left, are concerned primarily
with the injustices of capitalist markets and focus on a broader
range of voluntary associations, including nonprofit organizations,
community-development corporations, trade unions, and social movements.
Two new books highlight some of the innovative civil-society solutions
being applied to a complex range of social ills, and emphasize
the importance of political economy in crafting such measures.
But the books' tonal clash with post-9/11 political rhetoric also
suggests how wide a gap has developed between grass-roots idealism
and the sweeping concerns of a state and a society obsessed with "homeland
security."
As their proponents argue, civil-society programs have much to
recommend them:
They work on the principle of "subsidiarity," typically
proposing to solve problems at the simplest level possible (e.g.,
community-based development of affordable housing). That local
orientation appeals to all those, right and left, who are wary
of the centralized, bureaucratic state and who seek to promote
greater civic engagement through citizen participation.
They seek to promote individual and civic responsibility, requiring
citizens to work together to achieve common goods. In that regard,
civil-society initiatives can be seen as allowing citizens to exert
their rightful political power rather than becoming clients of,
or dependent on, the state. Moreover, the initiatives typically
encourage citizens to exert that power through deliberation rather
than zero-sum strategic bargaining, and through community-oriented
rather than predatory practices that would unduly benefit particular
interests.
Relying on self-organization and volunteerism, civil-society projects
don't necessarily require large amounts of money from government
or other sources. Thus they appear to combine, at least ideally,
the virtues of entrepreneurial effort, efficiency, voluntarism,
and civic-mindedness. For that reason they are often presented
as being practical and effective in a way that welfare-state regulations
and allocations are not. Further, they are often seen as sources
of "social capital" that build confidence in social and
political institutions. As Benjamin R. Barber sums up this general
understanding of civil society in his book A Place for Us: How
to Make Society Civil and Democracy Strong (Hill and Wang, 1998),
it "posits a third domain of civic engagement which is neither
governmental nor strictly private yet shares the virtues of both.
It offers a space for public work, civic business, and other common
activities that are focused neither on profit nor on a welfare
bureaucracy's client services. It is also a communicative domain
of civility, where political discourse is grounded in mutual respect
and the search for common understanding even as it expresses differences
and identity conflicts. It extols voluntarism but insists that
voluntarism is the first step to citizenship, not just an exercise
in private character building, philanthropy, or noblesse oblige."
The emergent public discourse on civil society has been accompanied
by a proliferation of practical experiments shaped by an extensive
and increasingly dense network of philanthropic foundations, academic
institutions, and other organizations. Those include the Kettering
Foundation, the Pew Charitable Trusts, the Bradley Foundation,
the Open Society Institute, the National Civic League, the Hubert
Humphrey Center at the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities, and
the Walt Whitman Center at the Douglass Campus of Rutgers University.
In their book Civic Innovation in America: Community Empowerment,
Public Policy, and the Movement for Civic Renewal (University of
California Press, 2001), Carmen Sirianni, a sociology professor
at Brandeis University, and Lewis Friedland, a journalism professor
at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, call such initiatives
a genuine "movement for civic renewal ... with common language,
shared practices, and networked relationships across a variety
of arenas." Sirianni and Friedland catalog a range of recent
efforts in four domains -- community development, environmentalism,
health policy, and public journalism. Their chapter on civic environmentalism
discusses new forms of deliberation and negotiation over hazardous-waste
disposal and appropriate risk that include business, local government,
environmental activists, and civic associations; public-information
campaigns about toxic substances, such as the Right-to-Know Network
and Citizen's Clearinghouse on Toxic Waste; civic monitoring of
pollution and waste disposal; local green-space ordinances; community
land trusts; and environmental stewardship and good-neighbor agreements.
Those arrangements are partly a response to the declining federal
ability and inclination to impose environmental solutions. But
they've also come about because many environmental activists have
learned that there are no cost-free ways to make environmental
decisions, and that bureaucratic regulation is often inferior to
consensus-building and civic responsibility.
In their chapter on community organizing and development, the
authors describe a range of experimental efforts to deal with urban
problems:
Local nonprofit social-service agencies that offer child care,
support for the victims of domestic abuse, temporary shelter, and
job training.
Community-development corporations that seek to leverage public,
private, and philanthropic funds to revitalize neighborhoods through
the construction of low-cost housing, the establishment of neighborhood-based
health clinics and cooperatives, and the promotion of neighborhood-based
retail outlets, banks, shopping centers, and other businesses.
Community-development financial institutions that bridge major
financial institutions and inner-city communities to counter the
effects of redlining (illegally denying loans in certain areas
of a community).
Community organizations facilitated by the Industrial Areas Foundation,
such as East Brooklyn Congregations, which pioneered the Nehemiah
Project to build low-cost housing, and Communities Organized for
Public Service, which supports a range of redevelopment efforts
in San Antonio. (On the latter, see Mark R. Warren's superb study
Dry Bones Rattling: Community Building to Revitalize American Democracy
[Princeton University Press, 2001].)
Innovative, locally oriented "third sector" programs
outside government and corporate agencies that build human and
social capital, such as YouthBuild USA and the National Community
Development Initiative. Sirianni and Friedland's encyclopedic account
makes clear that, as Harry Boyte and Nancy Kari, of the University
of Minnesota-Twin Cities, put it in Building America: The Democratic
Promise of Public Work (Temple University Press, 1996): "For
all our problems and fears as a nation, civic energy abounds. Americans
are not uncaring or apathetic about public affairs. In fact, a
rich array of civic work in many diverse settings is evident across
the country."
Thad Williamson, David Imbroscio, and Gar Alperovitz's book, Making
a Place for Community: Local Democracy in a Global Era (Routledge,
2002) is an excellent complement to Civic Innovation in America,
and to the literature of "civic renewal" generally. While
much of this literature has focused on political and sociological
themes, Making a Place for Community emphasizes economics. The
authors show that social dislocation and civic atrophy are generated
and reinforced by the tendencies toward free trade and financial
globalization, capital mobility, and urban sprawl that are integral
to contemporary global capitalism. While they discuss the economic
criticisms that have been leveled against those phenomena, the
principal focus of the book is on their political consequences
in undermining the neighborhoods and place-based social networks
that are necessary to the flourishing of democracy. Further, they
make it clear that those tendencies are not simply market-driven;
they are in part the products of governmental tax policies, trade
policies, and other forms of public subsidization.
The authors' point: The political economy must be addressed and
reformed if efforts to promote "civil society" and "civic
renewal" are to succeed. "The issue is not whether the
federal government will continue to have a role in the economy
and in shaping markets. Rather, the issue is whether such intervention
will continue to take place in a scattershot, inconsistent manner
largely driven by special interests, or whether the federal role
in the economy might instead serve a coherent objective ... the
reconstruction of community -- and local democracy -- in America
in the new century."
The strongest part of the book is its discussion of how such a
reconstruction might be accomplished. It outlines a range of federal
policies that are already in place, and whose expansion could foster
civil society and democracy. Programs worthy of expansion, the
authors say, include:
Trade Adjustment Assistance and the Job Training and Workforce
Investment Act, both designed to aid workers whose jobs are displaced
by new imports.
Community Development Block Grants, urban Empowerment Zones, and
Enterprise Communities administered by the Department of Housing
and Urban Development; the HUBZone Program, which promotes federal
contracts administered by the Small Business Administration in
high-unemployment areas; and the job-generating Economic Development
Administration.
Regional development projects, such as the Appalachian Regional
Commission and the Mississippi Delta Regional Authority. Efforts
to convert obsolete military bases to commercial, residential,
or environmental-conservation projects.
Rural-development programs administered by the Department of Agriculture.
And the Environmental Protection Agency Brownfields Initiative
to clean up polluted properties and put them to new uses. Also
discussed are state and local ownership of utilities and other
public resources; community-development corporations, community-development
financial institutions, and community land trusts; local efforts
to support small-business development and "import substitution" strategies
to promote local buying and selling; experiments in metropolitan
tax-base sharing of the sort pioneered by Sen. Myron Orfield in
the Twin Cities region; state and municipal "claw back" mechanisms
designed to make the recipients of tax advantages accountable to
their communities; employee stock-ownership plans; and economically
targeted investments in public programs by public-employee pension
funds. In the aftermath of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks,
Americans have been called to sacrifice in the name of freedom.
While in my view the threat posed by Al Qaeda-linked terrorism
is very real, requiring an equally real political and military
response, the current invocations of freedom ring hollow. While
attention has been fixed on the question of "homeland security," broader
questions of social and economic vulnerability and risk have been
substantially ignored by political leaders, policy makers, and
the news media. Books such as Civic Innovation in America and Making
a Place for Community are all the more welcome, for they take seriously
the project of civic engagement and civic renewal, and offer a
vision of a more robustly democratic society that is also safer
and more civil.
At the same time, I'm struck by the discrepancy between the hopefulness
articulated by Sirianni and Friedland, and by Williamson, Imbroscio,
and Alperovitz, and the cynicism of the broader public culture.
Even before 9/11, the voices of progressive liberalism had been
muted and marginalized by enthusiasm for "third wave" technologies,
the "opportunity society," and a "third way" that
had largely abandoned any serious commitment to an ambitious and
remedial public-policy agenda. The core constituencies of organized
liberalism have long experienced deterioration, division, and demoralization.
That political weakening is traceable to the racial, Vietnam, and
fiscal crises of the 1960s and '70s. It was shown in the ascendancy
of Reaganism, in the "Gingrich Revolution" of 1994, in
the repudiation of liberalism by Clinton's "progressive" agenda;
and in the victory of George W. Bush in 2000. The fact that Bush
lacked an electoral majority and came to the presidency as a result
of a questionable Supreme Court ruling only underscored the weakness
of a liberal alternative that could mobilize a decisive majority
or offer the political confidence to press the constitutional questions
at stake in the electoral deadlock. The rightward shift of public
discourse in 9/11's wake has simply exacerbated the trend.
In such a context, even so pragmatically grounded a project as "civic
renewal" or "the revival of civil society" has a
utopian ring. The tone of Making a Place for Community is resolutely
hypothetical: "If local and state-level initiatives can ultimately
be married to higher-order activism and policy making on the federal
and international levels, we believe there is a real not chimerical
chance of making serious headway in reconstructing community in
America over the coming decade"; "We have little doubt
that if this fundamental goal were to gain wide acceptance, creative
minds, committed activists, and courageous policy makers would
find countless ways to further the goal"; "the developmental
work of the past three decades has generated enough experience
... that a new framework of explicit policy support could permit
a major advance in the coming period" (emphasis added). The
authors lay out a modestly visionary program, estimating that for
$75-billion -- less than 4 percent of projected federal spending
for the 2003 fiscal year -- existing programs could be bolstered,
without any substantial new legislation, in a way that would "dramatically
expand support for community economic stability." But the
likelihood of even that relatively small shift in public discourse,
much less of the government making such commitments, must be judged
minuscule in the current political climate.
Williamson, Imbroscio, and Alperovitz quote the University of
California at Santa Barbara historian Alice O'Connor: "Having
encouraged the trends that impoverish communities in the first
place, the federal government steps in with modest and inadequate
interventions to deal with the consequences ... and then wonders
why community development so often fails." O'Connor describes
such policy efforts as "swimming against the tide." If
anything, current tides are even more powerful than the 1990s tides
of which O'Connor wrote. That's no reason to stop swimming and
embrace the prospect of drowning. On the contrary. It is more important
than ever that writers and activists think creatively about the
best ways of leveraging limited financial and political resources
to achieve a modicum of civic empowerment and social justice. Books
such as Civic Innovation in America and Making a Place for Community
are important contributions to such thinking. The ideas and projects
they describe are not likely to remake our political landscape,
yet they can serve as sources of political inspiration and instruction.
They demonstrate that even at a time of liberal decline the wells
of pragmatic reform have not run dry, and that conscientious and
committed citizens and activists can make a difference, even if
in small ways, in working to make the United States a more democratic
place to live.
Jeffrey C. Isaac is a professor of political science and the director
of the Center for the Study of Democracy at Indiana University
at Bloomington. He writes
regularly for Dissent magazine and is the author of the newly released The
Poverty of Progressivism: The Future of American Democracy in a
Time of Liberal Decline
(Rowman & Littlefield).
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