culture

Distant War and Selective Empathy

Brooke Chambers on December 4, 2018
Photo of two children standing between white tents in a refugee camp. Photo by Mustafa Khayat, Flickr CC

The murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi sparked criticism of Saudi Arabia across the globe. But a recent New York Times article brings forward a striking paradox – this single incident has drawn far more outrage than Saudi Arabia’s large-scale intervention in Yemen. Over the past three years, thousands of civilians have been killed, half of Yemen’s population is at risk of famine, and over 20 million people need humanitarian aid. This conflict is largely caused by Saudi Arabia’s intervention, like attacks on civilian infrastructure and continual deadly air strikes. These factors caused the United Nations to label the violence in Yemen as 2018’s worst humanitarian crisis. Yet in the United States, this conflict has received only limited attention. Research can help to explain the lack of coverage of this crisis and why distant conflict may result in selective empathy.

Depictions of violence play an important role in understanding distant conflict. Places with a history of violence, like Afghanistan or Syria, become linked with this conflict – violence may become understood as timeless or inevitable. Individuals in conflict zones are then minimized into stereotypes, like tribal savages or helpless, incapable victims.
Aid campaigns can unintentionally reinforce these depictions. While campaigns that feature starving children or crying mothers are often well-intentioned, they can reinforce dehumanizing depictions by characterizing groups only through their suffering. In such campaigns, civilians caught up in conflict are  displayed as objects of pity, rather than people with rich lives that were devastated by violence. And more concerning, real suffering can be reduced to a tool to remind viewers of their own luck or deserving.
While we understand our own lives as complex, our conceptualizations of others are often less vivid – such comparisons tone how we understand ourselves and those around us. This contrast can result in stereotypical depictions of groups we see as distant from ourselves. For example, Edward Said argued that influential Western texts about Africa and Asia exoticized these places and the people that lived there. These simplifications become particularly problematic during times of violence because those experiencing conflict in far-away spaces may be understood as less complex and, therefore, less deserving of empathy.

The cultural and physical distance of international conflict can affect empathy, one reason that front-page coverage of Yemen has been limited. However, those seeking a deeper understanding of conflict can challenge these depictions by informing themselves about the history and day-to-day reality of violence and those who experience it. Doing so has the potential to counter these simplified tropes about conflict across the globe.

The Social Construction of Gender and Sex

Allison Nobles on November 26, 2018
Photo of a drag king holding a rainbow umbrella during a pride parade. Photo by IowaPipe, Flickr CC
According to a recent memo, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services is seeking to establish a legal definition of sex and gender based on “a biological basis that is clear, grounded in science, objective and administrable.” However, social and biological scientists agree that — based on their scientific understanding — gender and sex are not solely biological, and sex and gender are not the same thing. Sex is a category used to describe a culmination of biological and genetic components, including chromosomes, hormones, and physical anatomy. Gender, on the other hand, may or may not be linked to biological traits. Gender refers to a cultural identity, one that has social weight in the world, with particular meanings attached to it. Gender involves social norms, attitudes, and expressions.
Neither sex nor gender are binaries, meaning there are not just two categories — female or male, women or men — and they are not fixed or static. They can and do change over individuals’ lifetimes. U.S. society is increasingly more likely to accept that gender is more of a spectrum than a binary. We’re hearing more about transgender individuals in the media, but transgender is only one gender identity that challenges a binary view of gender. Others include, but are not limited to, gender nonconforming, gender fluid, and gender queer.
Just as gender is not a binary, neither is sex. The biological components of sex do not always align solely with “male” or “female.”  An individual may have XY chromosomes and an outward female appearance, including breasts and a vagina. Another might have XX chromosomes and high levels of testosterone. Yet another might have genitalia that appear to be neither male or female (too long to be a clitoris, too short to be a penis). These individuals fall into a category called “intersex.” While it’s hard to know how many individuals are intersex (some don’t even know themselves), a commonly reported statistic is 1 in 1500 to 2000 American births.
Nevertheless, U.S. society remains deeply invested in two categories of sex and gender. In fact, most of society is organized around these ideas. In other words, gender is an institutionalized system. And during our everyday lives we constantly categorize people based on their appearance and behavioral cues — gender is a system of categorization we use to understand our social world. People who challenge gender or sex binaries thus can face serious consequences, including discrimination and violence.

No doubt, the recent controversy in the Department of Health and Human Services isn’t the first time we’ve grappled with contested definitions of gender and sex in our political history — and it certainly won’t be the last.

Race and Affirmative Action in Brazil

Lucas Lynch on November 21, 2018
Photo of a march for Dia Consciência Negra in São Paulo. Photo by Central dos Trabalhadores e Trabalhadoras do Brasil CTB, Flickr CC

Historically, Brazil had presented itself as a “racial democracy” where interaction between racial groups formed a utopian, raceless society. In the last few decades, Brazil has come to acknowledge its underlying racism and resulting disparities, leading to the 2001 enactment of race-based affirmative action projects. Social scientific research can help us better understand the functions and necessity of these programs, which are likely to be under threat following the election of right-wing candidate Jair Bolsonaro who has been openly critical of Blacks and the LGBT community and the policies that serve them.

In Brazil, skin color has been the defining mechanism for racial categorization and identity in between a black and white binary. Some official methods, however, including the Brazilian Census, recognize multiracial identity and a number of racial categories. Multiple methods of classification can be tricky, and this can obscure deeper and more basic racial inequalities. Though pardos (a mixed-race category used in the census) can face similar social situations as dark-skinned Blacks (sometimes referred to as pretos), recent research finds that pardos actually do experience less disadvantage than pretos, complicating decisions about who receives help from affirmative action programs.
Given this complexity, determining who is Black and a possible beneficiary of the racial quota program has differed. Some universities have required applicants to be of African descent to qualify for racial quotas, which has caused complications since many Brazilians could claim African ancestry even though they may have light skin or are not seen as “Black.” In other cases, verification committees at different universities confirm whether an applicant should be considered Black and a beneficiary of the racial quota system. The quota program has now significantly broadened to include applicants from low-income families as well as Indigenous peoples. Independent of skin color or racial group, support for affirmative action programs and race-targeted public policies is strong. Research suggests, however, that the more education someone has, the less likely they are to support racial quotas. It is important to consider what factors affect support and execution of these policies as opponents such as President-elect Bolsonaro attempt to dismantle it.

Table Talk for Thanksgiving

TSP Grad Board on November 19, 2018

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Originally posted November 22, 2016.

For many Americans, this weekend is the time for food, football, and family we don’t see often. Given the heightened tensions surrounding the presidential election, social media is teeming with advice on how to constructively engage with friends and family who have different political views. Avoidance, wine, and crying is one strategy, but thinking about what family meals mean and actually engaging in constructive conversations about political issues may be more fruitful.

We often think of Thanksgiving as a time to have a family meal together and strengthen family bonds. But research shows that family dinner does not actually increase well-being in and of itself – it only works if the meal-time discussion is used to actually engage with those at the table and learn about their day-to-day lives. In other words, “polite” conversation may not be the best way to bring everyone together.
We know that people avoid talking politics because they want to seem polite and avoid conflict. But this does not necessarily mean they don’t have political views. In fact, being “not political” is a cultural performance that people do with different styles. It takes work to not be political and those strategies can be overcome without necessarily causing conflict. In fact, a recent study found that having a 10-minute canvassing conversation about trans-related issues was associated with reduced prejudice, at least in the short term.
For those of us who are academics, it is important to remember that engaging in these discussions does not mean spouting off your best summary of Gramsci’s theory of hegemony or Bonilla-Silva’s take on color-blind racism. We need to do as much, if not more, listening than we do talking, because listening to how others are thinking about and responding to the current political climate can help all of us better understand our shared situation. And if and when we do bring up social science theories and research, we should do it in a way that is approachable, not pedantic. As bell hooks argues, “Any theory that cannot be shared in everyday conversation cannot be used to educate the public.”
That’s not to say that academics cannot effectively draw on their experiences as teachers. There are many strategies we use in the classroom to teach things like race, gender, and class that can be useful outside of the classroom. Relying on personal examples and discussions about family histories instead of facts and figures is one example of how to do this. Focusing on experiences that you or your loved ones have had with racial discrimination, generational mobility, or gender role conflict can help them connect the social construction of race, class, and gender to concrete events and stories from their own lives.

State Agents Under Pressure

Isabel Arriagada on November 14, 2018
Photo of flu shot clinic for veterans. Photo by Maryland GovPics, Flickr CC

After President Trump blamed California state officials for not doing enough to fight and prevent wildfires, civil servants seem to be fed up. Though often understood as emotionless state bureaucrats, frontline workers of the state — from firefighters to social workers — must often deal with suffering, emergencies, and disasters in the everyday operations of their agencies. Social science research helps us understand how state actors manage these roles and maintain their own emotional wellbeing.

The work of state agents entails balancing institutional rules and scarce state resources. Their everyday decisions are thus an essential component of administering and implementing public policy. Because they control the distribution of services, state officials can become policymakers with considerable discretion in the daily implementation of state activities. Their work not only influences how state operations impact citizens’ lives, but it also shapes citizens’ perceptions of state legitimacy.
Workers’ affective lives — their emotional challenges and commitments to institutions — impact the functioning of organizations. Unlike many politicians, scholars, or journalists, state bureaucrats have everyday contact with adversity, social problems, and vulnerable populations. For state officials who interact with the public, working with clients can be emotionally draining and even physically harmful. Civil servants suffer emotional and psychological distress as a result of their daily roles. The consequences of exhausting interactions are harmful to the purposes of the organization, as — in the process of routine operations — bureaucrats may develop special preferences, antipathies, and discrimination against their clients.

State agents thus perform a complex balancing act, both for society and for themselves. Instead of using the stereotype of bureaucrats as vile and insensitive, public policy decisions must also consider the operations of organizational behavior and the struggles of bureaucrats in providing state services.

Why the Indian Child Welfare Act Matters

Brieanna Watters and Allison Nobles on November 8, 2018
Photo of a Seminole man holding his child at an American Indian Heritage Month celebration. Photo by Los Angeles District, Flickr CC

After years of debate, the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) — which sets minimum requirements for caseworkers handling state child custody proceedings involving Native children — was recently ruled unconstitutional by a Texas federal judge. The judge argued that ICWA violates constitutional rights to Equal Protection because it “elevates a child’s race over their best interest” — despite the fact that Native children are actually citizens of federally recognized tribes. Social science research helps us understand the historical context necessitating ICWA’s creation, with respect to the problematic history of child removal from Native communities as shaped by racialized, gendered, and cultural ideas.

The ICWA was enacted in 1978, a time when Native children were being removed from their homes and placed in foster care at staggering numbers under the guise of protecting children. At that time, 25-35% of Native children were removed from their homes by state child welfare or by private adoption companies. And the majority (about 85%) of these children were placed outside of their families and communities, even when relatives were willing to take them. Today, despite the minimal protections offered by the ICWA, Minnesota places more Native children in foster care than any other state, making up 20% of children in the system.
The ICWA’s creation and implementation has not only been a response to child-removal through adoption, however. Even earlier, Native children were sent to government or Christian-run boarding schools where teachers forced children to abandon their distinct tribal cultures — they cut Native children’s hair, did not allow them to speak their native languages or participate in cultural practices, and enforced strict discipline through corporal punishment. The boarding school era prevented generations of Native people from learning (and passing on) parenting tools. This separation of families, along with the disruption to Native cultural and spiritual practices, has been linked to symptoms similar to post-traumatic stress disorder, increased exposure to physical violence, and substance abuse in Native communities.
The removal of Native children is also couched in deep-set racialized, gendered, and cultural notions of family, specifically the white middle class ideal of the nuclear family, characterized by two married parents and children. Conversely, non-Native supporters of these adoption practices often relied on stereotypes of Native women as sexualized, unmarried, and thus unfit, which pathologized Native families as neglectful. They have also argued that each child’s best interests should be considered on an individual basis, rathering than acknowledging what tribes see as the importance of culture and identity, tribal rights, and belonging. In other words, supporters of Native adoption saw “disadvantaged” Native children that needed to be “rescued” by individual acts of goodwill (from white, middle class Americans).

So what will legal reconsideration of the Indian Child Welfare Act bring? Many tribes fear that the Texas ruling sets a dangerous precedent that could dismantle the federal laws put in place to correct historical injustices like the boarding school system. Other tribal leaders see the ruling as an attempt to destroy their right to political and cultural survival through their children, while simultaneously compromising efforts to heal from the wrongdoings inflicted upon tribal communities. In the context of the current political division over the treatment of immigrant children separated from their parents at the U.S. border, such concerns warrant serious attention.

Why Witchcraft Appeals to Marginalized Groups

Allison Nobles and Jacqui Frost on October 31, 2018
Photo by Tom Lee, Flickr CC

Originally posted October 18. 2017

If you like Halloween, you know that witches are a popular costume choice and decoration this time of year. But the history of witches involves much more than bubbling cauldrons and flying broomsticks. Social science shows us that witchcraft has a long history of empowering marginalized groups, like women and sexual minorities, who question more traditional religious practices.

While popular images of witches often focus on magic spells, brooms, and pointed hats, witchcraft and other forms of neo-paganism have historically been used by women to push back against male-dominated religions. More traditional, hierarchical religions like Christianity and Islam often place women in a subordinate role to men, and research finds that many women are drawn to witchcraft and other alternative spiritualities because they emphasize female empowerment, embodied rituals, and sexual freedom.
People who practice witchcraft and neo-paganism typically see sexuality and gender as key sites for social transformation and personal healing, pushing back against the Christian idea that sex and bodies are sinful. Since neo-paganism values sexual freedom and sexual diversity, LGBTQ folks and people practicing polyamory often feel a sense of belonging that they don’t find in other religious spaces.
This has also been true for young adults. In general, young adults practice religion and spirituality differently than do older generations. For example, millennials are the least likely to participate in traditional religious institutions or identify with one single religious belief system, but many still desire some combination of spirituality and community. The increase in portrayals of witchcraft and other neo-pagan religions in popular media has exposed younger generations to these communities, and research finds that teens are more often drawn to these alternative spiritual practices as a means of self-discovery and community, rather than the promise of magical powers.

Global Media Coverage of Immigration

Allison J. Steinke on October 24, 2018
Photo of a protester holding a sign that says, “Stop deportation! I need my daddy,” with a picture of a child. Photo by Fibonacci Blue, Flickr CC

This post was created in collaboration with the Minnesota Journalism Center. 

“A Way Out of the Immigration Crisis.” “Like it or Not, Immigrant Children are Our Future.” “Trump Talks Tough on Immigration in Nevada but it Could Backfire.”

All three of these news headlines were published by mainstream news outlets in the United States in September 2018. All three portray immigration in a negative light. While much news and media coverage across the globe portrays immigration negatively, researchers who study this area also identify media outlets that include more positive coverage. 

One thing scholars have found is that immigration coverage has increased rapidly since 2004. In U.S. coverage, there is a heavy focus on “immigration reform” and “tougher border control” as solutions to the immigration “problem.” Across the pond in the United Kingdom, polls have ranked immigration as one of citizens’ top concerns, with coverage of immigration being overwhelmingly negative and centered on conflict through utilization of crime frames and discussion of immigrants as “illegal” or “failed.”
But not all publications discuss immigration in the same way. For example, scholars have found that African-American media outlets publish immigration stories with racial frames that depict immigrants as allies, while other major mainstream media outlets frequently utilize crime frames that discuss the legal status of immigrants.
Research also shows suggests that the conflict-oriented news coverage of immigration contributes to polarized public opinions about immigration policies in digital spaces as well as comment sections of mainstream news sites. Conversely, social and mobile media in Australia has been used as a platform for asylum-seekers in detention to share their experiences with the public directly. Journalists and citizens alike have collaborated with detained asylum-seekers to create journalistic narratives that raise awareness of human rights violations unfolding in offshore detainment centers. Though not embraced by all consumers, such stories about immigration appear to cultivate expressions of empathy from audiences.

Defining “Genocide” and The Power of Labels

Brooke Chambers on October 15, 2018
Photo by PictureCapital, Flickr CC

People invent words and definitions to help navigate the world around them. Once created, such labels can have monumental impacts. The word “genocide” is one example of a term that holds meaning for victims, perpetrators, and those who watch violence unfold. Over the past few years, debates have raged as to whether or not to call the Burmese state’s violence against the Rohingya “genocide.” Such debates often privilege the label, rather than focusing on the everyday violence experienced by civilians. Sociologists seek to understand the meaning, use, and consequences of labels like genocide.

Individuals and groups use institutions to construct consensus about labels. But people use terms in different ways, and labels often change in meaning over time. The term “genocide” was first coined by a lawyer, Raphael Lemkin, in the aftermath of the Holocaust. The United Nations adopted this term and formalized genocide as a crime in 1951, but the meaning of genocide continues to be contested. Some academics, for example, advocate for the inclusion of political groups as targets for genocide in addition to collectivities that are already included, like ethnic or religious groups.
Debates about labels have real effects. In the case of genocide, such implications are most directly felt by populations affected by violence. Victims can feel that their loss is recognized and mourned when appropriate labels are used, while an insufficient label may promote impunity for past crimes. As some theorists argue that an acknowledgement of past wrongdoing is central to healing, the use of fitting labels takes on an even more practical importance.
Despite these important considerations, some scholars and activists express concern that focusing on labels does more harm than good. The label of “genocide,” though critically important to survivors and advocates, does not come with legal obligations to intervene. While policymakers and activists discuss the relevance of the term “genocide” in Burma, atrocity crimes continue to unfold. As such, some scholars argue that the social importance of labels can distract from the immediate needs of victims of violence. From this vantage point, scholarly and advocacy attention is best directed towards serving the needs of those impacted by violence.

The Long History of “Día de la Raza” in Mexico

Lucas Lynch on October 12, 2018
Photo of Indigenous Women, some holding children, outside of a Church in Chiapas, Mexico. Photo by Adam Jones, Flickr CC

More and more Americans have begun observing Indigenous Peoples Day, at least in part to push back against national narratives of “discovery” associated with Christopher Columbus and his commemoration. While a relatively recent development in the United States, other nations of the Americas officially acknowledged the importance of their Indigenous heritage for much longer. For example, in Mexico, Día de la Raza or “The Day of the Race” was officially recognized back in 1928 and was part of a larger national project that emphasized that all Mexicans share a history of racial and cultural mixing — known as mestizaje — since the coming of the Spanish. Sociological research highlights how this recognition of Indigenous people as integral to the formation of the nation has actually had mixed consequences for Indigenous peoples and cultures of Mexico.

The notion of mestizaje emphasized that all Mexicans were fundamentally “mixed” individuals, or “mestizos.” It was adopted by the State in an effort to promote inclusion and national cohesion across racial lines — including Indigenous peoples — and even resulted in the removal of racial categories from the census (after 1921). In this spirit, the Mexican government sought to “improve” Indigenous individuals through education, social integration, and economic development, assimilating them into the newly defined mestizo nation. While some benefited, some lost their language and cultural identity, and many others, especially those with darker skin, faced further marginalization and found themselves pushed underground.
Due to internal and external political pressures in the 1990s, the Mexican government abandoned its assimilationist policies and began instead to protect and promote the languages and cultures of Indigenous peoples. These shifts appear to have contributed to greater ethnic pride and greater likelihood to self-identify as Indigenous, especially for more educated, wealthier, or urban populations. However, skin color continues to carry economic and social weight in Mexico. Non-white Mexicans tend to have lower levels of education and employment and are more likely to live in poverty than their lighter-skinned peers.

So, while Mexico may still celebrate a day to acknowledge its mixed racial heritage, it is worth wondering if there might be other, better ways to recognize and address the challenges that actual Indigenous people in the country face on a day to day basis.