In an essay for the New York Times, University of Mississippi – Oxford M.F.A candidate Jason Harrington aims to dispel the myth that inner-city gangs in Chicago are rigidly structured organizations with clear, color-coded boundaries that separate one from another. According to Harrington this conception perpetuated in Spike Lee’s new satirical film “Chi-Raq” through the presentation of two opposing gangs engaged in a constant war, the “Trojans” and the “Spartans.” This emphasis on clear-cut gang warfare is outdated, according to Harrington and the residents he’s interviewed from Chicago neighborhoods Englewood and Auburn-Gresham, where the movie is set.

Most shootings in black Chicago neighborhoods are no longer a result of epic clashes between street battalions. Back in the 1980s and 1990s, big gangs like the Black P. Stone Nation and the Gangster Disciples were structured like corporations — tightly run narcotics operations with chains of command. If, for example, an order came down that anyone wearing a rival gang’s colors was to be shot on sight, then that command was dutifully followed by soldiers on the corner. But by the close of the 1990s, with the end of the crack explosion and the federal prosecution of many of the gangs’ founders, the groups splintered into small sets that now only loosely identify with their founding “nations.”

Today, most gun violence in Chicago does not occur due to what set someone claims, but over small, interpersonal feuds usually involving money, women or disrespect. However, the “gang-member” label of past decades persists. Harrington interviews Andrew Papachristos, a Chicago native and associate professor of sociology at Yale, about the implicit meaning of “gang-member.”

“People see ‘gang member,’ and the words ‘psycho killer’ instantly pop in their head. But that isn’t the case,” Andrew Papachristos, a Chicago native and an associate professor of sociology at Yale, says. A majority of residents who claim sets in Chicago are more like Trey, my close friend of 17 years and a member of the 81st Street Black P. Stones in Auburn Gresham. Trey has no violent criminal record and works full time as a security guard. In areas like Gresham, a lot of young men don’t have the luxury of opting out of affiliation with the local set; banding together in brotherhoods can be a survival strategy in neighborhoods where personal reputation is capital and walking the streets alone makes it more likely that you’ll be seen as weak.

Read the essay here.

Even with nearly a hundred percent consensus within the scientific community, the notion that humans are not causing climate change is still widespread amongst the public. A new study in Nature Climate Change by sociologist Justin Farrell of Yale University aimed to find out how climate doubt is manufactured, and was covered in The Washington Post.

Farrell, the sole author of the study, is quoted at length about his findings. Unsurprisingly, his motivation for research was grounded in a genuine curiosity as to how there is such an extraordinary gap between scientific and public consensus:

“I’ve personally been interested in understanding how a social movement can spread such uncertainty and doubt in the general public on an issue that has achieved near scientific consensus.”

What he found is that the organizations that promote these contrarian views are connected in a network. Those organizations that are central to the network, received funding from larger corporate interests, in this case either ExxonMobil or the Koch Brothers. Farrell isn’t anti-corporate funding, but he is pro-transparency.

“Of course, the solution is not to forbid corporate funding of this or that issue, but to start by providing better access to who is funding who, so that folks are not kept in the dark, making it hard to know who to trust, if anybody.”

“I hope people read these findings in the light of the bigger picture, and not just ExxonMobil or Koch, but more broadly these two entities are simply a very strong indicator of the larger types of financial interests that are behind the movement,” he said.

In addition to Farrell, the article quotes Robert Brulle, professor of sociology and environmental science at Drexel University, who served as a reviewer for the study. Brulle had interesting advice for how climate change activists can shift the narrative and persuade public opinion:

“When you look at comparative strategies, the climate science community or the climate advocacy community does not have as much of a media-centered focus as does the conservative movement,” Brulle said. “I think that that’s what this paper starts to push on. You have to move more toward a media-centered influence—the influencers’ strategy—rather than trying to convert individual by individual.”

Read the full article by Chelsea Harvey here, and learn more about sociological studies of how echo chambers work to limit the amount of climate change science that enters political debates with this article in the Fall 2015 issue of Contexts, the public outreach journal of the American Sociological Society.

“Sketchfactor,” “Nextdoor.com,” “GhettoTracker.com,” and “Operation GroupMe” are just a few of the digital services available to city dwellers hoping to monitor their neighborhood’s crime rates and connect business owners and community members to law enforcement with greater ease. But are they just a more efficient method of racial profiling and criminalization?

That’s the question that Leslie Hinkson, associate professor of sociology at Georgetown University, grapples with in a recent interview in a Washington Post article that investigates the effect of these surveillance applications in D.C.’s Georgetown neighborhood:

The group has codified its own language and operating culture. African Americans are referred to as “aa.” Hundreds of images of unaware African Americans circulate in the group.

“We should be honest here,” Hinkson continued:

Crime does occur in Georgetown. And quite often when people describe the perpetrators of those crimes, they’re usually young men of color. But that doesn’t mean every person of color is an automatic suspect.

Read the article here.

Barbecue is to the American south what wine and cheese are to Europe. That is, a deeply ritualistic cultural practice that differs greatly by region and, more subtly, by micro-locality. Travel across the south and one will find different cuts of meat, cooking techniques, sauces, side dishes and beverages. Or so says John Shelton Reed, Sociology Professor Emeritus at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, in Calvin Trillin’s recent article “In Defense of the True ‘Cue,” for The New Yorker. The article zeroes in on the “Campaign For Real Barbecue,” an effort to preserve traditional North Carolina barbecue and what Professor Reed believes to be it’s vital role in North Carolina social life.

In his darker moments, he sees his beloved barbecue joints being replaced by the soulless outposts of some franchise operation he calls the International House of Barbecue, which uses “barbecue” to mean meat with bottled barbecue sauce on it—your choice of meat, your choice of sauce. Just as the Campaign for Real Ale believes in “well run pubs as the centres of community life,” John Reed believes that the traditional barbecue joint is a place in the South where people from all walks of life and all races, from the sheriffs’ deputies to the construction workers to the town bankers, gather to eat the local specialty at a price just about anybody can afford. (A barbecue sandwich at Stamey’s goes for three dollars and twenty-five cents.) A passage in “Holy Smoke” [one of Reed’s books] says, “North Carolina barbecue is an edible embodiment of Tradition. For many of us, barbecue symbolizes Home and People.”

Read the full article here.

Wikipedia is the largest source of free information on the Internet. According to the digital analytics website Alexa, it’s is the 6th most popular website in the United States and 7th in the entire world. What is troubling is that between 84 and 91% of its editors are male, and the site’s few female editors face regular harassment and marginalization. This imbalance means the content often reflects a strong gender bias. Emma Paling recently explored the problem for The Atlantic, interviewing Julia Adams, a professor of sociology at Yale University.

“Most people look at Wikipedia, and see the text, and assume that it’s unproblematically produced by volunteers and always on a trajectory to improvement,” said Adams. “But that is simply not the case.”

Read the full article here.

Gun violence has become a constant in American life. As of October 13th, there have been 10,348 shooting related deaths and 21,012 shooting-related injuries in 2015 already, per the Gun Violence Archive. What happens to the thousands who are shot and injured each year? Jooyoung Lee is a sociologist at the University of Toronto who studies the lives of gunshot victims. In a recent interview with The Trace, Lee talked about the different difficulties his subjects—mostly young, working-class black men—have faced navigating their lives and treating their pain since being shot:

Getting shot really changes a person’s social world; it makes them suspicious of other people. You see them going from young and vibrant to reclusive. They go to public settings, see a crowd, and get anxious that someone is affiliated with the person who shot them. The Fourth of July is a very stressful day for gunshot victims. A lot of the young men talk about how the sound of fireworks would give them flashbacks. I had one guy who told me he was out at a bowling alley with friends, the first time he’d been out since he’d been shot, and he was having a great time, and then the sounds of pins crashing caused a flashback. He had the feeling that everyone in the place was potentially the killer. This kind of thing makes it very difficult to resume everyday life.

Read the rest of the interview here.

Long Beach State assistant professor of sociology and hip hop journalist Oliver Wang “remixed” his dissertation on the cultural phenomenon of predominantly Filipino Bay-Area mobile DJs of the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s into the book Legions of Boom: Filipino American Mobile DJ Crews in the San Francisco Bay Area. Wang discussed the particular social and cultural context that these crews developed in an interview with Vice:

I was used to thinking about how hip-hop crews were often very identify-focused—I came up during the era of pro-black/political hip-hop after all—and so my assumption was that this would be a major part of their identity as well. It wasn’t, though. Their self-awareness/pride in being Filipino was very individualistic but not reflected in the scene as a whole. If you just look at the names of the crews or the parties, there’s almost never an indication that these were predominantly Filipino American crews. There are any number of ways to possibly explain this: It was their age, it was their generation, it was the overall climate around race/ethnicity and music, it was because, as Filipinos, they’ve historically been treated as invisible. I do think, had this scene taken off in the 1990s, we may have seen a different dynamic because of the influence of hip-hop.

Read the whole interview here.