Archive: Jan 2013

It’s been hard to ignore various responses to growing economic inequality. Tea Partiers, Occupiers, and politicians have concentrated our attention on wealth, corporate greed, and governmental spending. Yet, a compilation of polls examined by Greg Shaw and Laura Gaffey (Public Opinion Quarterly) shows that these movements haven’t done much to sway public opinion. Assembling polls on inequality, taxes, and mobility from 1990 to 2011, the authors reveal that American public opinion has remained fairly stable on these issues. For instance, in 1990, 28% of those polled believed that the distribution of wealth in the U.S. is “fair.” In 2011, 26% said the same.

Dozens of similar poll results lend support to the argument that, while street protests may have impacted national conversation on inequality, Americans have not dramatically shifted their views. The authors describe the public striking an “awkward but lasting balance” between endorsing a belief in equal opportunity and acknowledging very unequal outcomes. This stable trend reflects American reluctance to embrace redistribution, even in light of heated criticism of income inequality. Fundamentally, these polls also reflect a difficult-to-dislodge cultural view that a tougher work ethic will lead to greater individual American wealth—that is, work hard, and the rewards will come.

Skateboarding has long been the hobby/sport of choice for disillusioned urban and suburban youth—spawning a fast-paced and thrill-seeking subculture that has become nearly universally loathed by parents. But it now appears that much of the ire that skateboarding and skateboarders have received over the years may be unwarranted. As Gregory J. Snyder (Ethnography, August 2012) writes, skateboarding’s growing prominence has aided in the creation of countless career paths, both direct (as boarders) and indirect (as photographers, artists, publicists, managers, etc.). Given the context in which these economic opportunities have arisen, Snyder calls them “subculture careers”—unique positions largely owed to skateboarding’s status as a subculture, not viable careers in spite of it.  While the subculture undoubtedly revolves around the skills and creativity of its most gifted boarders, these other positions are integral to the widespread dissemination of the craft.

Snyder also goes on to credit much of skateboarding’s remarkable expansion, from its origins as a niche hobby to its position as a global industry, to its communities’ close ties with and novel uses of urban spaces. Not only are skateboarders frequently depicted performing gravity-defying tricks over urban obstacles, much of the skateboarding industry is situated in major American cities (in the case of this article, Los Angeles). Snyder argues that this connection to large urban environments helps draw in talented boarders and artists from throughout the world. In turn, this cosmopolitan group helps continually diversify and develop skateboarding from within.

Color-coded awareness ribbons abound these days. Even NFL football players wear pink gear during October to support breast cancer awareness. But, as Rachel Kahn Best reveals in the American Sociological Review (October 2012), this awareness has accomplished far more than selling ribbons and staging fundraising walks—it’s transformed how government funding for disease research is distributed in the United States.

Using data on federal medical research funding for 53 diseases between 1989 and 2007, Best shows that advocates for single diseases not only secured increased funding for their causes, but also changed how decisions are made to fund medical research. Because these efforts redefined the beneficiaries of medical research funding as patients rather than researchers, policymakers needed new metrics to make funding decisions.  A focus on “dollars per death” and “big killers” emerged, making mortality a primary measure for distributing research funding among diseases. This has provided a seemingly rational, fair, statistically-based—and appealing—way to make funding choices.

But the shift toward thinking of patients as the beneficiaries of medical research funding has also brought stigma and the relative “deservingness” of patients front and center. Some diseases, like muscular dystrophy, appear to have “innocent” victims, ill through no fault of their own. But because those with lung or liver cancer may suffer after making arguably poor choices, such as smoking or drinking, they (and their diseases) are seen as less deserving of research funds. Best’s analyses demonstrate that, indeed, such stigmatized diseases have generally received less research money in recent years.